Page 13 of Change My Mind
“I won’t need you, but I’ll call you if I do,” I replied, stepping away from him and turning to unlock the door.
“Love you, kid,” Xander said to my back.
“Love you too. Give my love to Juliette,” I called over my shoulder.
I heard his reluctant steps back to the car and started dragging my suitcases over the threshold of my newflat.
When I closedthe door behind me after settling my final suitcase in the hallway, I noticed that the flat smelled like a wood. More specifically, it smelled like the woods just after it had rained. It was thick and lush. It was also one of my favourite smells. I had no idea why it smelled like that, but I was fine with it. It made the whole experience of coming home even more welcoming.
Mum had given me a virtual tour of the place a couple of weeks ago when she was confirming how I wanted my room set up, so I knew the rough layout.
The living room was opposite the front door, and to the left was the combined kitchen and dining room, which could be accessed both from where I was standing and through the living room. To my immediate right, the hallway led to the two bedrooms on the left, and then the bathroom at the end.
I knew I should remove my suitcases from the hall, but this was also probably the only time I would have guaranteed alone time to have a little snoop to try and get a read on Eli.
I took a quick picture of my suitcases clogging up the hall and sent it to Tori, letting her know I was safely back on home soil, and then wandered into the living room. There was a TV set up and a decent-sized leather sofa opposite. A matching armchair was tucked away in the corner. Eli had put up an art print of a Polaroid-type photo of Hampstead Heath. The edges of the frame looked weathered, like it had made the move back from Manchester.
There were plants on the windowsill in the living room. It was a good-sized window, with a lot of light streaming through it. The plants there looked happy. Other than the art print, there didn’t seem to be much of an Eli stamp on the room. I walked through to the kitchen to see if that would yield better results.
I didn’t get very far because there was a note on one of the black marble-top counters.
Hey roomie (I will never use that again, hated it),
Hope your flight was okay and not an utter travel nightmare. I checked with Vivi and she said that you’ve never met a pasta dish you didn’t love. Thought you might be hungry when you got in, so there is a bowl of pesto pasta in the fridge. Oh, and your sister left you a doughnut.
I will be home by dinnertime (which is 7 for me, is that a normal dinner time?)
Look forward to seeing you later.
Eli
Now that I had been presented with the idea of food, my brain couldn’t move past it. I opened the fridge and took out the large bowl of pasta, searching the various drawers until I found the one that Eli was keeping the cutlery in, and took a fork out. I jumped up on the counter and started stabbing penne, taking too-large mouthfuls as my hunger finally took over. The pesto was incredible and dragged a little moan out of me. I would need to learn Eli’s pesto secrets.
I looked at Eli’s note again and realised that it said Clara had left me a doughnut, which meant that maybe she would know what Eli looked like. I pulled my phone out and texted her.
Have you physically met my new flatmate? Thoughts? Oh and thanks for the doughnut Xx
Ten
ADDIE
Ididn’t have enough wardrobe space. I couldn’t say that I was surprised that this was the case, because after Mum had confirmed my room set up more or less matched what I had in Montreal, I discovered I had been stashing clothes in places that weren’t drawers or my wardrobe. Like the floor, both my bedroom desk chair and the armchair in the living room, and a kitchen cupboard. By that point, it felt ridiculous to ask if I could havemorestorage—I already had quite a lot.
So, now there was a suitcase of clothes that I had no home for, and my patience to search for a solution had abandoned me. Getting out of the flat felt like the best thing to do, which was how I found myself in the supermarket thinking about what I could make for dinner. Eli was nice enough to leave me lunch, so I figured the least I could do was thank him with dinner.
The problem with my plan to cook was that Eli was a chef by trade, and I was getting stage fright. I was a good cook. I found it soothing to get lost in the process of making a meal. Ihad cooked so many fancy meals for Tori, and she had nothing but good things to say. But suddenly, nothing seemed good enough for achef.
Not to mention that I didn’t know what his dietary requirements were. I assumed he ate dairy because you didn’t get the balance that right in a pesto without tasting it. But that wasnothingto go on. Not really.
What if he was one of those chefs who would cook anything, but actually followed a strict diet? Or was gluten free? I didn’t know.
Then I remembered where Eli was working, and more importantly,whohe was working with.
Dad answered my panicked call before the dial tone had even rung once.
“Adrienne, my macaroon, how are you?” Dad said, following my strict instructions that the family had to speak English to me until I remembered to default to it again. Dad always sounded overly happy to hear from me. Even after all these years, he was still overcompensating for something that he had no real control over. Either that, or he was just grateful that I still wanted to talk to him at all. Watching your dad fall to the floor, clutching his chest mid-sentence, does have a way of scarring you in a way that no amount of therapy can save you from. Clara always reassured me while I’d been gone that he was better at not doing so much these days, but I still couldn’t quite release the fear that sat deep in the pit of my stomach.
“I’m in a fight with my wardrobe space, or lack thereof, but otherwise, I’m fine. Jet lag hasn’t kicked in yet, but I do feel a bit floaty. Like all this isn’t real yet. It feels like I’m going to wake up in Montreal and go about my usual every day,” I answered slowly, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly tired now that I had said the words ‘jet lag’ out loud.
