Page 63 of The Plus One
She landed a punch to his shoulder that, for some reason, felt as wonderful and delicious as a hug.
“I was thinking it’d be fun to watchScooby-Doo. None of the shitty new animation, obviously, but the classic old-school ones from when we were little.”
The suggestion sparked countless happy memories, sleepovers at the Papadakises’, late nights giggling with Collin, early mornings of cartoons and pancakes with both siblings.
“I like that idea,” Jude said softly. Indira smiled like a kitten in cream.
She clicked over to the show and scrolled through the options, mouth pursed as she read through descriptions. Jude stared at the little divots it created in her plush lips, the way time had kissed her features, still vibrant and fresh, but with subtle lines of vulnerability that she wore proudly around her eyes and mouth.
“Didn’t this one used to be your favorite?” Indira asked, bringing up a thumbnail with a character in an eerie submarine costume.
“Wow. Yeah, it was. I can’t believe you remember that.”
Indira opened her mouth like she was going to say something smart and biting, but nothing came out as she looked at him. Something about the way she studied him, saw him, made warmth spread from the center of his chest like sunshine appearing from behind a cloud.
“Memories of you are inevitable,” she said at last.
She returned her attention back on the TV, goofy cartoon voices filling the room.
Jude, despite taking himself incredibly seriously as an adult, quickly lost himself in the nostalgia and fun of the show. He was mortifyingly riveted by an animated crew of mystery solvers.
So, when the doorbell rang again about fifteen minutes later, it caught Jude off-guard. His spine went taut and his heart rebounded off his breastbone. Indira must have felt the reverberation of his shock, her head snapping up to look at him. Their gazes held and Jude swallowed.
The trick-or-treater hit the doorbell again in rapid-fire mode, ding after ding clashing over each other, propelling Indira to move. She grabbed the bowl of candy, enthusiastically greeting the nextgroup of kids at the door and leaving Jude stuck in his spot, a hot and sticky pulse of fear slow to ebb out of his system.
After a moment, she came back into view, chewing on her lip as she thought, eyes fixed on the candy in her hands. She smiled slightly, then bolted up the stairs. Jude could hear her muffled footsteps as she zipped around the upper level. She came charging back down the stairs, then turned into the kitchen, rogue bite-sized sweets trailing after her.
When she reappeared a few minutes later, she clutched all the (highly excessive) bags of candy Collin had bought for Operation Please Don’t Destroy My House and a piece of paper.
She held the sheet in view for Jude to read as she moved toward the door.
Happy Halloween, Ghouls and Goblins! Doorbell broken. Help yourself,the words written in green and made to look like slime. Indira deposited her armloads of candy on the porch, ripped off a piece of duct tape that was looped around her wrist, and stuck the sign over the doorbell.
She walked back into the house and shut the door with a proud thud, dusting off her hands as she made her way back to the couch and plopped down next to Jude, restarting the show.
Every muscle in Jude’s body felt locked in place, a prickle of sweat irritating his skin as he tried to breathe. He couldn’t get himself to relax, couldn’t snap out of whatever brutal impulse propelled his body headlong into this state.
“Can I hold your hand?” Indira asked, eyes still trained on the TV. Jude looked at her.
“My hand?” he echoed, slow to process what she meant.
“Yes. This episode is scarier than I remember and I could use some comfort.” She scooched toward him a bit.
Jude cleared his throat, the corners of his mouth ticking up. “If you must,” he said with as much melodrama he could muster. His heart started to thud with something like triumph instead of fear when he saw Indira smile.
She reached out, more direct and self-assured than she’d ever touched him, and picked up his hand resting on his thigh, twined their fingers together, then leaned slightly against him.
And the feeling of being touched in such a soft and deliberately comforting way seemed to let every muscle sigh with relief.
Her touch made him feel… safe. Grounded. Gave him the physical anchor that allowed him to push his way through his jumbled-up thoughts and resurface as himself.
Without even realizing it, he felt himself leaning back, letting go, just a bit, and allowing Indira to support some of his weight.
It felt delicious and indulgent and like coming home.
Jude felt drugged by the happiness flooding his brain, the familiarity of childhood comforts, the lovely trill of Indira’s laugh, the way she gently scoured her nails up and down his arm, making every hair on his body stand tall in pleasure.
As minutes ticked on and they watched episode after episode, they kept drifting closer.
