“Just Dave. He’s the oldest. He came out to UVic for law school and decided to stay. He’s got a wife and two kids, though I guess they’re not kids anymore. His son, Jordan, is only twelve years younger than me. He’s the one who helped us out at the Lily last December, when we were slammed with all those events.”
“I remember.” At the time, she’d thought it unusual that Knox had a twenty-one-year-old nephew, but she hadn’t asked him about it. “Before coming to Victoria, you lived in Vancouver, right? I think you mentioned it once before.”
“I went to university at UBC and lived there for six years after that.” He ladled the soup into two bowls and brought her one, along with a box of saltines and a glass of ginger ale. “It’s not fine Italian cuisine, but it’ll do for tonight.”
“Thanks, Knox.” Though she could barely smell anything, the warm steam from the soup felt heavenly. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“It’s no bother. And I still owe you a real dinner.”
She was about to tell him he wasn’t under any obligation, that tonight was more than enough, but she stopped herself. If he wanted to have dinner with her, why dissuade him? “Okay. I’ll hold you to it.” She took a small sip of the soup, which was salty and delicious, filled with big chunks of chicken and thick noodles. “This is so much better than the canned stuff.”
He went to fetch his own bowl and plopped down on the armchair next to the couch. “Chuck’s is the best. Though I have to admit, we grew up eating the store brand. Or Campbell’s, if it was on sale. With so many kids in the house, my parents were always on a tight budget.”
She crumbled up a handful of saltines into her soup. Knox’s childhood contrasted so sharply with her own. She’d grown up in complete privilege. If she needed anything—new clothes, shoes, money for a school trip—she only had to ask. And yet, Knox had probably been surrounded by more love and warmth than she had.
“Before I forget—this is for you.” He reached into the front pocket of his flannel and pulled out a wad of tissue paper, wrapped around something small. Leaning closer to the couch, he passed it over to her.
She tore off the paper to reveal a tiny glass swan, light blue with white wings and an orange beak. “Oh…where did you get this?”
“At a flea market this morning. I was tooling around, looking for used books, and this made me think of you.”
Any more kindness from him and she’d burst into tears. “Thank you. It’s lovely.” She set it on her coffee table, next to the box of tissues.
He glanced at the TV, which still displayed the DVD menu. “What were you watching?”
“Don’t judge me, but I was rewatching the third season ofThe Hidden Forest.” She ducked her head in embarrassment. “It’s kind of childish, but I don’t like to watch any further. That way, I can pretend Princess Elodie and Finn live happily ever after.”
“I get it. I’m sure a lot of viewers would agree with you.”
How did he know this? Had he spent hours perusing the show’s Reddit forum, like she had? When he didn’t elaborate, she focused on eating her soup, taking careful bites so she wouldn’t spill it all over herself. The silence lingered, but it wasn’t awkward. More like the kind of quiet comfort shared between two friends who were at ease with each other.
After they were done, he took the bowls to the kitchen and put them in the sink. “Do you want anything else?”
“I’m good for now.” Since he hadn’t hinted he was in a hurry to leave, she pointed to the shelf containing her DVDs. “If you want to stay for a bit, we could watch a movie. I slept most of the afternoon, so I’m not that tired.”
“Sure. Any preference?” He walked over to her collection and perused the titles.
“Whatever you want. Maybe something under two hours?” That way, she’d have less chance of falling asleep.
He took one off the shelf. “See if you can guess: ‘Have fun storming the castle.’”
She grinned at him. “The Princess Brideis one of my all-time faves.” An odd choice for Knox, given that it was centered around an epic love story, but she wasn’t about to bring that up.
Once they were seated, with the movie playing, Charlie no longer cared that she’d gotten sick. She couldn’t remember ever enjoying a first date this much.
* * *
Knox had seenThe Princess Brideat least five times. Maybe more. In his family, Friday nights were set aside for movie watching. His mom would make a huge batch of popcorn and—if they were lucky—break out a bag of Kit Kats. They took turns picking the films, and among his sister’s favorites wasThe Princess Bride. But if anyone spoke while it was playing, she’d shush them until they stopped. Fortunately, Charlie didn’t feel the same way. Like him, she loved talking back to the screen and making snarky comments.
Toward the end of the movie, she grew quiet. He got up to check on her, only to realize she’d fallen asleep. He turned off the TV and covered her with another blanket. She’d probably be more comfortable in bed, but he didn’t want to wake her.
Even if the night had ended with her drifting off to sleep, he was glad he’d risked coming over. He could tell she’d enjoyed his visit and had liked hearing about his family. When she’d mentionedThe Hidden Forest, he’d been tempted to reveal even more about himself. Not just the good parts, but everything that had happened in Vancouver, including his relationship with Lila.
He’d held off because he hadn’t felt right unloading all his baggage on Charlie. The full story was a lot for anyone to take in, let alone someone who was battling a nasty cold. But he was so tired of keeping the past locked up where no one could find it. If he wanted a chance with her, he needed to share more of himself.
After waiting another ten minutes, he figured she was out for the night. He could have stayed, but watching her sleep made him feel like the vampire from theTwilightmovies. He went to the kitchen and found a sheet of note paper in one of the drawers. After contemplating what to say, he wrote her a letter, folded the paper in thirds, and set it on the coffee table.
The act of writing something—even if it was just a friendly note—felt good. Like using a muscle that had gone dormant.
