“How do you know you weren’t a sign?” I say. “It’s not like a person can justdecideto be one. That’s not how signs work.”
“Fine. I’m decidingnotto be one!” She tilts her face up to the ceiling. “I do not give my consent to be a sign!”
“Too late,” I say.
She looks sincerely upset when she settles her gaze on me again. “I can’t believe you used me as an excuse for your emotional constipation.”
“Don’t take it personally. I hardly knew you!”
Jo does a slow spin in the office chair. “You’ve got some serious issues, Nina. Holy shit.”
I prop my legs on her knees to keep her from spinning. “Shit. Shite. Tomato. Potato. Tell me something I don’t know.”
“Do you think he’ll really go back to Ireland?”
I think of how I watched Ollie walk out the door only a few hours ago. How it felt different from the other times he’s walked away. “Unfortunately, I do.”
“Are you going to be okay?”
I give Jo the best smile I can manage. “What other choice do I have?”
22
September
When the knock on my door comes a few weeks later, my first thought is of Ollie. It’s two o’clock on my day off, and I haven’t changed out of my pajamas. I’ve been in my pajamas a lot lately. Jo is starting to worry, though I tell her not to. They’re silk pajamas at least. I’m not that far gone.
I smooth the wrinkles from my shirt before walking to the door and peeking through the peephole. But it isn’t Ollie who stands in the hallway.
“Xav? What are you doing here?”
“Is it a bad time for a visit?” he says, generously pretending he doesn’t notice I’m in my pajamas and my normally sleek hair looks like a bird’s nest.
It’s probably not the best time, but I don’t really care. Xav has seen the best and worst of me; he can handle my less-than-perfectly-tidy apartment. Besides, I could use a distraction from scrolling through old photos of me and Ollie, and Xav’s visit has me curious. “Come on in.”
I move aside, and Xav steps into my apartment.
“Sorry it’s a bit of a mess,” I say, shutting the door behind him. “Can I get you some water? Coffee? I’d offer food, but I don’t have any. Have you had lunch? If you’re planning to stay for a while, I can order something. You like that Salvadoran place downtown, right?” I pull out my phone to look up the menu.
“You don’t need to be chief stew today, kiddo,” Xav says. “I’m here as your friend, not your boss.”
“Well, in that case, make yourself at home. There’s beer in the fridge.” I set my phone on the coffee table and settle onto the couch, tucking my feet beneath me.
Xav’s beard twitches, barely concealing a smile. “You want one?” he asks, starting in the direction of the kitchen.
“It depends on why you’re really here,” I say.
Xav doesn’t respond, but when he returns, he has a beer in each hand.
“I’m going to need a drink for this?” My heart sinks a bit when he passes a bottle to me and takes a seat at the other end of the couch.
Xav sighs and takes a swig from his beer. “That depends on how you feel about it, but I figure a drink can’t hurt either way.”
“Every year you become more and more cryptic, you know. I fully expect you to embody Captain Nemo by the end of your career.”
“Finally, someone’s catching on,” he says.
I take a sip from the beer in my hand. As I do, my eyes are drawn to a folder Xav has tucked beneath his arm. I set my beer on the coffee table.
