Page 96 of Is She Really Going Out with Him?
“It’s been what, eight years?” I ask as we walk past a projected hologram of people dressed as Romans having massages on stone tables. Noah nods. “And have you met anyone since?” He shakes his head. “Because you haven’t wanted to, or…?” I trail off.
“I could never love anyone as much as I loved Gemma,” he says firmly.
“I don’t want to compare what you’ve been through to my situation, but I never imagined being thirty-eight and starting all over again. I do understand.”
“I’m sorry if I haven’t been a good neighbor,” he says slowly.“I’m not good with people. Gemma used to say I had the social skills of a garden gnome.”
“What do you mean? You’re a great neighbor. You take in my packages, you lend me ladders, you let me know when I’ve put the recycling bins out at the wrong time. What more could I ask for?” Noah rubs his chin, and his eyes crease into a smile. “Come on, let’s go drink this ‘healing’ spring water.”
At the end of the exhibition, there’s a water fountain where you can drink the water coming up from the geothermal spring. Some people believe it has healing properties, a cure for whatever ails you. Noah passes me a small paper cup and asks, “What are we drinking to?”
“A truce?” I suggest.
“A truce,” he says, raising his cup and taking a gulp of water.
“Oh, that’s disgusting,” I say, swallowing it with a grimace.
—
By the timewe get home, Noah and I are laughing as we get off the bus. He is still awkward and quiet, sometimes curt, but I feel as though I understand him a little better now.
“Thank you for this evening,” he says. “I enjoyed myself.”
“Me too,” I tell him as we stand on the street at the bottom of my steps. “Why don’t you come around for dinner sometime? I can’t claim to be a great cook, but we’d love to have you.”
“I would like that. Thank you.” He nods to the bins. “Remember, blue recycling bin goes out tonight.”
“Got it,” I say, raising my hand in a salute.
Noah heads to his front door and I walk up to mine smiling. As I turn the key in the lock, I hear voices inside. Surely the kids can’t still be awake?Then I look at my watch and see it’s only nine, we didn’t stay out that late. Walking into the living room, I pause at the door, surveying the scene. Ethan and Jess are in their pajamas sitting on the floor, Lottie is on the couch with amug of tea, and Will is standing in the middle of my living room, acting out a charade.
“The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe!” shouts Ethan, and Will shakes his head, miming opening and closing a door.
“Open-and-shut case!” shouts Lottie.
Will frowns, throwing up his arms in frustration.
“Do the second bit again,” Jess suggests. None of them have even noticed me come in, they are all too absorbed. Will pulls his earlobe to denote “sounds like,” then starts miming climbing some stairs.
“Open climber?” Ethan suggests, and Will points at him, nodding enthusiastically, then pulls on his ear again.
“Open slimer?” Ethan tries.
“Oppenheimer,” I say from the doorway, and now they all turn to look at me.
“Yes!” Will says, clapping his hands together once. Then he collects himself and rubs a palm along the back of his neck. “Hi.”
“You’re back,” says Lottie, a huge grin on her face.
“What’s going on here then?” I ask, trying to sound casual.
“Will brought you flowers,” Jess says, turning around to look at me with wide eyes.
“They’re bigger than my head and Jess’s head put together,” says Ethan. “We measured.”
“How was Noah? Did you kill each other?” Lottie asks.
“No. It was fine,” I say, still confused as to why Will is here.
