Shop, Thea spent half an hour listening to the cashier—Jonathan—vent about his on-again, off-again boyfriend as if Thea were a lifelong friend and not literally someone who walked in off the street. When we left the shop, Thea had the guy’s number in her phone and was surreptitiously wiping her eyes.
“Since the accident, all my old friends in Richmond have moved on,” she said. “Or maybe Delia cut them out of my life. Other than Rita, I haven’t had a friend until you.” She gave my arm a squeeze. “But you’re my boyfriend now, so that’s not the same. Everyone needs that BFF to talk boys with.” She waved at Jonathan through the window and blew him a kiss.
He waved vigorously and mouthed Call me.
“Boyfriend, huh?” I said, trying for casual when my stupid heart grabbed at the word and held on for dear life.
“Oh shit. Is it too soon? I just thought…”
“Whatever you thought, I’m thinking it too,” I said. I pulled her close to me and kissed her, tasting cool vanilla sweetness on her tongue.
“You always say the best things,” Thea said.
“I want to get a good report when you call Jonathan.”
She laughed and pounced on me, wrapping her arms around my neck. “You’re doing all right so far, Jimmy Whelan.” She slid down until her feet touched and then her eyes widened at something over my shoulder. “That bookstore is too cute. Let’s look.”
She took my hand and dragged me down Bleeker to a small shop with carts of books spilling out the front door. We went inside and Thea picked up an old paperback, opened it, and put it to her nose to inhale deeply. “No better smell than an old book.”
“Did you read before the accident?” I asked.
“Romance novels, mostly.”
I frowned. “I didn’t see you with any books at Blue Ridge.”
Thea lifted a shoulder. “They probably thought it wouldn’t take if I was only ‘there’ for five minutes at a time.”
But did they try?
“I also really dig books about books,” she said. “My all-time favorite is Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafon. Ever hear of it?”
I shook my head, scanning the Zs on the fiction shelves.
“It’s romance, magic, and tragedy set around an old Barcelona bookstore in nineteen forty-five.” She toyed with the little green gem on her necklace, her gaze turning distant. “My mom introduced me to Zafon,” she said. “He was her favorite too.”
My fingers found Shadow of the Wind and handed it to her. “I think this is yours.”
Thea smiled gratefully and took it. She blinked hard at the cover. “Reading it again will be like coming home. What about you? Do you like to read? If you say yes, I’ll have to marry you right now.”
“Yeah, I read,” I said slowly.
“You do?”
“Yep. Guess you’ll have to marry me right now.”
Thea hugged her book to her chest, a blush in her cheeks “Guess we should find City Hall.”
“Guess we should.”
The moment caught and held. Thea looked away first, uncharacteristically shy as she perused the shelves. “What’s your fave?”
“Chuck Palahniuk. Fight Club.”
“Saw the movie.” She wrinkled her nose. “Too violent for me.”
“Yeah, it is. But I read the book a hundred times over the years. The idea of creating a better, stronger version of yourself that doesn’t put up with any shit appealed to me, I guess.”
Thea moved around a table of bargain books. “And now?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Like your love for all things Egyptian, Fight Club doesn’t feel like it fits me anymore.”
“You don’t need a better, stronger version of yourself.” Thea pecked my cheek. “You never did.”
“What are we going to do next?” Thea asked after we left the bookstore, a new copy of Shadow of the Wind for her and Catch-22 for me in her backpack, and her arm tucked into mine.
“Up to you,” I said. “It’ll be dark soon. You hungry?”
“No, I mean when this trip is over,” she said. “What’s next, Jimmy?”
“We go back to Virginia, I guess.”
“And then? I’m not going back to Blue Ridge. No chance.”
“Neither am I,” I said. “Because I was fired.”
She didn’t smile. “You need a job. I need a job. We both need to go back to school. I mean, if you feel up for it.”
“Maybe,” I said. “Your art school was in Richmond?”
She nodded. “But even if I went back. I don’t know where I’d live.”
Inhale. Exhale. “Maybe we could both move to Richmond.”
Thea stopped walking. “We?”
It’s too much. You’re asking too much of her. Of life.