Ava glanced at me, her expression wry. “No need to be worried, Savannah. I’m only mentioning it because he could use a friend and I didn’t want you to be surprised the first time you met him.”
“Well, if he’s been living there a week, I probably should have seen him by now. I’ve been in the front garden every day.”
Ava didn’t say another word, her focus on the counter she was wiping down.
I drained my latte. “You didn’t tell me much else about him. Is he younger, older? A warlock?”
“He looks young,” she answered cryptically.
I studied Ava, reading between the lines. “Appearances can be deceiving.”
We exchanged a glance. I wasn’t sure exactly how old Ava was, but I knew she hadn’t aged a day in ten years. She still looked about twenty-five years old. The weight behind her emotions told me more about her true age than her appearance. Though she shared pieces of her past on rare occasions, I could feel how each experience had left its mark on her psyche.
“He’s lonely,” she stated quietly.
I bit my bottom lip and looked down at the counter, something twisting inside my belly. I knew the feeling of loneliness all too well. Empathy welled within me that had nothing to do with another person’s emotions and everything to do with my own. “I’ll stop by and introduce myself,” I stated.
She smiled. “Good. I have a feeling you two will hit it off.”
Immediately, I knew she was up to something, but the door to the shop opened before I could reply. I decided to let the matter drop. Just because she wanted to play matchmaker didn’t mean that I had to comply.
A few hourslater, I leaned a hip against the counter and rubbed my aching temples. I took slow, deep breaths, focusing on inhaling and exhaling as my head throbbed. The shop had been surprisingly busy all morning. A steady stream of witches and warlocks came through the doors for coffee and supplies for potions and spells. Most of them were skilled enough that their mental blocks were strong, but there was still a constant buzz of emotions all around me. It was exhausting and it had finally caught up with me.
To my relief, the flow of people slowed until the shop was empty. Ava glanced at the clock then at me.
“It’s two. Go ahead and go home. Spend some time in your garden, maybe take a nap.” I started to argue, but she lifted a hand. “You’re a part-time employee and your boss is telling you to go home.”
I relented because the pressure behind my eyes grew with each passing moment. All I wanted to do was close the blackout drapes in my bedroom and crawl into bed. It would be stupid to argue about this when it was what I needed anyway. “Fine, but I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon.”
“You’ll do tarot readings tomorrow and that’s it,” she said firmly.
I took off my apron and hung it from the hook. Ava and I could have this out tomorrow when I was fresh and not wishing for a bottle of ibuprofen and a dark room.
“See you tomorrow,” I said.
“Go home and rest,” Ava replied, giving me a squinty look that said she didn’t believe I truly would.
“I will,” I promised, utterly sincere.
I stepped out of the shop and hissed as the sunlight hit my eyes. Quickly, I dug my dark sunglasses out of my bag and slipped them on. Grateful that the house I rented from Ava was close by, I focused on putting one foot in front of the other and headed home.
Though her bossiness was sometimes annoying, I adored Ava. I knew she had my best interest at heart. I might have been able to get by without her help and her presence, but my life would have been far emptier. My grandmother left me a small inheritance that would pay my bills if I lived frugally. But I needed a job for more than money. Even though the emotions of others were difficult to take on a regular basis, being around people helped dispel the excruciating loneliness. Being an empath, I required a great deal of isolation to recover from any kind of social situation, but as a human being, I still needed friends and conversation. Chatting online was nice, but it didn’t replace the need to look into another person’s face and share a meal.
It also didn’t replace physical contact. Despite the pain it might cause me to be in the presence of others, I loved to be touched. Not necessarily in a sexual way, though that was something I missed as well, but just a quick hug or holding hands. Even an absent caress on my arm or leg. I craved the contact.
As I walked home, the beautiful spring day soothed the frayed edges of my spirit and eased the pain in my head, but it didn’t lift my mood. Talking about my new neighbor with Ava had brought my own loneliness to the forefront. I knew she’d intentionally brought up his seclusion because she wanted me to empathize with him but it also highlighted my own issues.
I loved Ava like a sister, but the woman knew exactly which buttons to press when she wanted me to do something. She tended to push me when I needed it and the outcome was usually for the best. I would never admit that to her because she was already convinced she knew what was best for everyone. There was no need to feed her ego. She was bossy enough as it was.
Even though I knew that Ava had an ulterior motive, she accomplished her goal anyway. As I approached my house, I looked across the street at the little blue cottage Ava also owned, thinking about who might be inside. It had been vacant for the past few months and I’d wondered if she even wanted to find a tenant.
It was strange that I’d never seen the man who rented it, even in passing. I spent a lot of time outside in the front garden. I should have at least caught a glimpse of him coming or going, maybe getting his mail, but I hadn’t. As far as I could tell, the house still appeared vacant.
I hesitated on my front porch, my eyes scanning the structure across the street. Then I decided to do something impulsive, even though I was tired. If I hadn’t seen my neighbor, then he probably hadn’t left the house much since he moved in. The thought made something in my belly twist again. I hated the idea of someone feeling the same loneliness I did when I could do something to dispel it.
I went inside the house and grabbed my shears. I would take my new neighbor a bouquet of flowers from my garden to welcome him. Then I wouldn’t spend most of the evening mulling over Ava’s words about his isolation and feeling as though I should do something about it.
