Elijah had wheeled his suitcase inside and shut the door behind us. He now stood watching me.
“I think it’s dead,” he said.
“But can it be revived?”
He tilted his head as if he didn’t think it could but was going to let me try.
“I feel bad.” I picked up another dead plant off the counter in the kitchen and added it to the sink.
“For the plants?”
I let out a breathy chuckle. “Yes. There are at least two more that I’m sure have met the same fate. Including my shower fern.”
“Shower fern?”
“You’ve never heard of a shower fern? Don’t act like it’s not a thing.”
“It’s not.”
“Well, I like to shower with living things.”
His eyebrows popped up.
“Plants, I mean. Greenery.” I gestured toward the very-much-not-green plants in my sink.
“Well, if you ever mean anything else, I’m here to help.”
I laughed and turned off the water. “Um… you can put your suitcase…” I pointed while moving toward my bedroom.
He wanted to stay in my bedroom, right? God, it had been too long since I’d started a relationship. I didn’t remember what the beginning phases consisted of. But we weren’t starting a relationship… were we? Why hadn’t we talked about this? And why was it onmeto bring it up?Hecould ask me. He could say,Do you want to date me? Are we exclusive? I’ll move to Los Angeles for you.
No, not that last one. He didn’t need to say that last one. Shouldn’t. Why would he? He was in a hole with his dad that I knew he needed to climb out of. And even once he was out of the hole, he’d already failed at what he had wanted to do—photography. Why did I think he was suddenly going to try it again just because I was in the picture telling him he could? He would probably stay at that boxing gym forever.
“This is the famous bed?” he asked, coming through the door behind me.
I took a happy breath. I’d missed my apartment, my bedroom, my life. “This is it.”
“Which side do you sleep on?” he asked.
“The right.” I pointed to the side farthest from the door and closest to the windows.
“Uh-oh.”
“Is that your side too?”
“It is. But I will concede since it is your bed.”
We slept on the same side of the bed. Was that a sign from the universe that this relationship was not meant to be? Stop.Thatwas nothing to read into.
My eyes caught on a piece of paper on the nightstand on the other side of the bed. I walked over to it. A key sat on top of the paper with handwritten words that read:Got my stuff, here’s the only thing of yours that was at my place.
I stared at the key. Was that really the only thing? The key that I had given him before I left so he could water my plants and keep an eye on my stuff. I hadn’t left a T-shirt or a toothbrush or even a hair tie?
I looked at the backside of the paper. It was empty. I crumpled up the note and balled it in my fist, then tossed it in the trash can in the bathroom. “I… uh… this is the full bath,” I said, continuing to give him a tour of the place.
“Is this the one with the shower fern?” He poked his head inside. “Yes, it’s very dead.”
“That’s what happens,” I said, looking at the poor fern. “When it doesn’t get watered.”
