Had Eli Buckley been nice to me today? On multiple occasions? Was I actually in a coma at Cedars-Sinai and this was just my brain pulling together some desperate fantasy of an alternate reality version of Eli?
Real or not, I couldn’t bring myself to even consider his offer. The thought of living with him only reminded me of all the times I’d come over to see Brody and Eli would leave the room like my presence had suddenly ruined his mood. But mostly, I didn’t think I could handle reliving the disastrous morning after our nuptials every time I saw him with a hint of bedhead or toothpaste on the corner of his lip.
Inside, I had the apartment to myself. Ruby had texted earlier to say she was at a friend’s place and wouldn’t be in reach of her phone—whatever that meant.
For the first time in weeks, I sat down with the small crate I’d packed full of notebooks and photos and little remnants of the past. The same crate that I had intended to pack my old laptop inside of had I not left it on my car.
There were photos of me and Tess at her first baby shower and Mom at Disneyland and even Ruby, a birthday cake full of sixty very melted candles lighting up her face. There were pages upon pages full of notes on my abandoned script. Most of them were deeply embarrassing and full of half-formed questions and thoughts that I still had no answers to. I didn’t know that there was any way I could rebuild what I’d lost. And maybe the best path forward was to just stop. To just give up this half-baked dream of writing. I had a handful of partial drafts, butThe Wunderkindhad been my one sole completed project. My whole identity as a writer was wrapped up in a script I hadn’t even managed to properly back up and a degree I had done nothing with. But this was all so much bigger than just a script.
With a sigh, I took my cannoli out of the bag and licked the powdered sugar off my fingers.
Once upon a time, I’d had a life and it was time to get it back.
The first terrifying step was getting off Ruby’s couch by whatever means possible.
Fucking fuckity fuck.
INT. HER ROOM—EARLY MORNING
She lies in bed. His hoodie is on her chair.
POPPY (V.O.)
He leaves pieces of himself like litter.
And I gladly pick them up.
Chapter Sixteen
I hardly slept the night before. My brain was a constant loop of possible future scenarios. Brushing my teeth alongside Eli. Making dinner. Sorting laundry. Remembering to double-check that I’d locked the bathroom door. Sharing groceries. Staying home while he went off to go on dates with the proud owner of the mystery hair tie.
It took a while, but eventually I fell asleep and the scenarios turned into the most ridiculous fantasies that left me unsatisfied and wholly annoyed with myself.
When I walked out the door for work, Ruby was still asleep and based on the hour I’d heard her stumble back in, that was probably for the best. I was heading out earlier than usual to deal with my car.
Except that the visitor spot where I had been parking wasn’t empty. Not only was it not empty, but my RAV4 was there. And I knew for sure it was mine because of the Harry Styles watermelon-scented air freshener that hadn’t carried any scent in years hanging from the rearview mirror and the faint crack in my windshield from when an eighteen-wheeler had kicked up some gravel right in front of me a few months ago.
Tucked under the windshield wiper was a Starlight Palms business card with Dr. Eli Buckley’s information. On the back in choppy handwriting, it read:
You are once again road safe. Come find me for your keys. —Eli
First, the offer to crash with him and now he had fixed my car? A small part of me wondered if this was all to get back at Brody, like some incredibly involved long game. Whatever it was, it was too much.
On my way to the main building, I stopped by Leonard’s. I’d listed his coffin yesterday and he already had a bite. He asked me if I might be there when the interested party came by, and because I would have to run over myself with a golf cart if some internet stranger killed Leonard and got away with it all because I wasn’t there, I said yes.
Patrick chirped in his cage as Leonard let me inside. His potential buyer, a young woman with white-blond extensions so luxurious I could trade them in for a new car, sat perched on his coral leather couch.
“Vera, this is Emery,” Leonard said. “Vera assisted me with the online listing.”
“Well, it certainly piqued my interest,” Emery said as she stood up. Her platformed Doc Martens sandals were paired with lace shorts and a purposefully torn tank top. Maybe it was the Starlight Palms population rubbing off on me, but I almost asked her if the shirt was cheaper with or without the holes.
Leonard led the way to the coffin room and when he opened the door, Emery gasped and let out a squeal that left my ears ringing. Something did not sit well with me about all of this.
“It’s perfect!” She circled the room, taking a good look at the glittering dove. “How many other people do you have coming to take a look?”
“Actually—” Leonard started.
“We have two more coming this afternoon,” I lied through my teeth, feeling suddenly protective, “and one in the evening. But I have a few other messages I haven’t gotten to yet.”
