Lana huffs a laugh. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”
“Yes,” I tell her. “And I’ll even put away your groceries.”
“I’ll be sure to leave a good tip.”
I smile. “Have a good day at work, baby.”
“I’ll see you at home,” she says, and it’s almost enough.Home.
I find the rest of the things on her grocery list as quick as I can to get the hell out of this shopping strip. I’m sure on the outside, I look crazed and frantic, and I feel that same way on the inside as I get into my car and drive away. Far away from the six packs of beer and the liquor store, my hands shaking on the steering wheel.
I’m stronger than this, I know that. I’ve come too far and I’m not going to give up on it—or her. I’m not losing everything again.No, I’m not doing that!
Using voice command, I dial Terrance. It rings four times before he answers with, “Calloway.”
“Hey,” I rasp. “What—What are you doing?”
A beat of silence before he says, “Working?”
I exhale heavily and run my fingers through my hair, coming to a stop at the light. “Yeah. Yeah, sorry.”
“What’s on your mind?”
“I was just at the supermarket,” I tell him, hand curled tightly around the wheel.
“Ahh.” Terrance chuckles raspy and hoarsely. “Aisle nine? Or was it the liquor store two shops over?”
I snort. “Both, I think.”
“It’s weird, isn’t it?”
My voice is shaky. “What is?”
“Having more power over it than it does over you for once,” he says.
I shake my head, throat burning and tightening. “Doesn’t feel that way right now.”
“The fact that you called me and drove away is enough proof.”
I suppose he’s right. My only response is a grunt before he says, “You’re stronger than you think. Go find your girl, kid. That’s who you need right now.”
“Yeah,” I croak. “I do.”
“Alright then. You call me if you’re still feeling like this, got it? I’ll answer right away.”
“Yes, sir.”
After he hangs up, I feel slightly…fine. I have to have hadsomepower to walk and drive away.
Driving aimlessly around town now, I come across a home furniture store. I pull into the parking lot and roam around the store for a bit, wondering what I’d put in a house for me andLana. I’d build her a reading room, a place to put all her books and paint it yellow and fill it with sunflowers. I’d put floor to ceiling shelves and a ladder that glides around.
As if I manifested it, I see it right in front of me at the end of the aisle. I don’t think about it as I lift two large boxes onto a cart, pay for them, and somehow manage to fit them in my car.
I finish the rest of her list, picking up the flowers I always buy for her now, and then some. I find the nail polish color she’s been using religiously for years.
It’s noon by the time I let myself into Lana’s house and I think about how she used to arrange her books in the past.
Lana always changed it up. Sometimes she arranged them so they’d look like a giant rainbow across the shelves. Sometimes she’d do it by author or genre. One of her favorite things to do was to empty the shelves and reorganize the entire thing.
