In the light of morning, I looked at the house with fresh eyes. I’d thought someone had gone through the effort to guess my tastes and decorate for me. But more than one of the division heads had referred to this space as House, like it had its own personality. Or magic.
“Good morning, House. Thank you for making me feel so welcome.” A surge of joy pushed through me, like a child receiving praise for cleaning their room. There was an air of familiarity in here I hadn’t noticed before.
I was starting to put some puzzle pieces together. For some reason, I’d forgotten most of what I knew about Treater’s Way when I left for college. There was a crucial memory clawing at the back of my mind, eager to come out, but it felt blocked. And, given that everything surprised me and yet somehow felt familiar, I suspected magic was the culprit.
“I’m looking forward to getting to know you again.” A wave of nostalgia warmed my chest. Apparently, the house felt the same.
Something clattered in the kitchen. When I went to investigate, I found a charming drink nook in the corner by the breakfast table. I didn’t remember it from the day before. Maybe it wasn’t there.
Fresh coffee gurgled from a full pot, its inviting aroma making my stomach grumble in return. A small tray of pastries sat on a pretty, pink plate. At the center were two large, blueberry muffins. I lifted one, warm in my palm, and took a bite.
There was something about food, eaten at the right times or in the right way, that sparked emotions. I could never be one of those people who viewed it strictly as fuel. A fresh aroma. A tart berry on your tongue. The lift of your mouth when you chewed.
It’s like it sends you back in time or cements a moment inside you.
“I used to bring these to Ethan, didn’t I? After our morning workouts, we’d sit on the bleachers and chat and eat a blueberry muffin.” Looking back, we’d been better friends than I realized. But we’d kept it a secret.
Maybe Ethan could tell me why.
The breakfast corner overlooked the back garden. When Ethan arrived, we settled there. I cracked a window to let in a soft breeze, thanking the house for providing it. It was mid-July, but this was the temperature other parts of the country must refer to as spring. As much as I loved Louisiana, it wasn’t because of the weather.
“You look better this morning.” Ethan’s eyes lit up at the muffin I passed him from across the table. We ate in silence for a few moments, enjoying the birds chirping and the dim laughter that lifted its way up from the Wellness Center.
“It’s funny.” Ethan toyed with the mug of coffee I hadn’t noticed appear in front of him. “Growing up, I always wanted a reason to come here. Back then it was just the therapy center. When I was fourteen, I begged my dad to bring me with him. He was Agatha’s lawyer for years. He let me, and one of these delicious muffins popped onto a counter for me.”
He took a big bite, making exaggerated “mmm” sounds as he chewed.
“After that, you brought me one once a week when I’d see you on the track.”
“Thank the house, not me.” I shoved the last of my muffin into my mouth, washing it down with the most perfect cup of coffee I’d ever had. “I know I dropped my mom here for work before school, and the bag would be waiting for me on her desk. I can’t tell you if I knew how it got there or not.”
I let comfortable silence hang between us. I had so many questions, but part of me wasn’t ready to start asking. I needed to take my time. Ethan, for his part, seemed content to wait.
“Can we start with the easy stuff?”
Ethan chuckled, wiping his mouth on a napkin and laying it over his plate.
“I’m not sure there is easy stuff.”
“That’s fair.” I took a breath. “Why did we keep our friendship a secret when we were in school together?”
“You remember that?” A flicker of pain passed through his eyes.
“The muffin brought it back,” I said, gesturing at my crumbs.
“That’s not an easy answer.” Ethan took a sip of his coffee, then grimaced as if it were suddenly bitter.
“Was it Lauren?”
“Only partly. It was also…” Ethan’s voice trailed, and he shifted in his chair. “You really don’t remember why?”
I closed my eyes, trying to peer behind the curtain that shielded me from the past. The breakfast, and my talk with Gumbo, had it cracked. It would take a lot of effort to pull it all the way back. I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
“It was Ray, wasn’t it?” Just saying his name was like stabbing myself in the heart with Cupid’s rusted arrow. A brief fling senior year should not hurt this bad. But it had sent me running, and Ethan was part of that. Nope, I definitely didn’t want to go there yet. “Okay, new question. What does mental health have to do with pedicures?”
“That sounds like the start of a very bad joke.”
“Or a good one,” I said. We laughed together, and with each snicker, my shoulders softened, and my jaw loosened. It really was like picking up with an old friend. When your old friend grew up insanely hot. “You have to admit, it is an odd combination.”
