Page 52 of Night and Day
Chapter 20
Izzy set two plateson the breakfast table, energy vibrating under his skin. Mia would join him soon. He’d noticed she took little time to get ready. It might have been the lack of toiletries, but he suspected she did everything with the same speed and efficiency he’d sensed in their work emails. Nothing in them had particularly intrigued him, which made him wonder how much he missed by conducting his life via email. The true Mia, the one who’d burst into his life like ball lightning, was nothing like her emails. With her around, the creative dead end he’d wrestled had faded to the back of his mind. He felt better about it, almost peaceful. He’d discover the perfect ending for the story.
Izzy scratched his jaw, marvelling at how different it felt. He’d gotten up early to trim his beard. The operation would have probably required a hedge trimmer to begin with, and had caused him to stare into the mirror for a lot longer than he was proud of, wondering how he’d allowed himself to get like that. He’d filled the upstairs sink with facial hair and discovered two more pieces of red cabbage (seriously?), but eventually, his face had been transformed. It felt oddly light. He could only hope Mia considered it an improvement.
She stepped into the kitchen just as he hefted a pan of scrambled eggs on the table. Her hair stood up on the side and she carried the screenplay he’d given her before bedtime, along with the bloody debt notebook she brought everywhere. Her attention, however, was firmly on the phone she held in her other hand, and she took a moment to look up and notice him. As she did, her expression morphed in seconds, from worry to bewilderment. “Oh, my God! You look so... different,” she added the last word on an inhale and it sounded like an airless gasp.
“Good, different?”
She cleared her throat and refilled her lungs. “Amazing, different.” She stared at him for an unnervingly long time. “Who knew you had a face under that thing? Honestly, I kind of expected—”
“A triple chin? A spider nest?”Probably best not to mention the cabbage.
“Ew. I just meant... never mind.” She fanned herself with the script and sat at the table, laughing, and then turned to marvel at the breakfast. “This looks so good. You’re totally spoiling me!”
“I’ve pretty much used up all my tricks now. Fried, boiled, or scrambled. Don’t expect me to poach anything.” His amusement dropped as his eyes landed on Mia’s phone, the screen still glowing bright on the table. “Did you hear from someone? You had that... deep frown just now.”
Mia gave him a meek smile. “Yeah. Mikko emailed me the flight details. I’d sent them to him before I left Finland, so he just forwarded the message to my new email. I tried to call him but he didn’t pick up. It’s Sunday night in Finland, so he might be out.” She didn’t sound too convinced. “Or he didn’t want to pick up. I can’t complain too much. I’ve been kind of avoiding him lately, even before I lost my phone.”
“Maybe you can try again tonight,” Izzy suggested, getting up to make coffees. It was easier to talk about her boyfriend if he wasn’t watching her, reading into every micro expression flitting over her face. It was none of his business anyway.
“When’s the flight?” he asked, his back to her, every muscle in his body tensing against his will.
“Wednesday evening,” she said in a small voice. “But it doesn’t matter. I might not get the travel documents in time. It said on the website that it can take up to two weeks. I’m sorry.”
A sigh of relief escaped Izzy’s chest. “No! Don’t worry about any of that,” he called over his shoulder, grateful that the loud hiss of the milk steamer covered the inappropriate brightness in his voice. Wednesday was only two nights away. Far too soon.
“I have to ask the airline if I can change my flights. I think I have flexible tickets, but there’s a fee...”
“I’ll lend you money for the fee. Just write it down in your little diary.” Izzy threw a dirty look at the notebook and poured a beautiful flat white.
Mia accepted the coffee with her cheeks flushed. “I’m racking up quite a debt here. A BnB with all meals included, and these coffees are like five dollars each.”
“You’re not writing that down!” Izzy raised his hand to stop Mia from opening the notebook. He’d seen her scribbling in that thing, listing things like petrol costs whenever they drove somewhere. His first instinct had been to demand her to stop, but the act of bookkeeping seemed to calm her, and he didn’t want to mess with that. He’d burn the book at the end or something. There was no way he’d accept money from her.
Pouring a coffee for himself, Izzy joined Mia at the table, risking a glance at the screenplay. Had she read it? Why had she brought it up here? He felt almost too nervous to ask, but he had to know.
