with not-Adam. She wondered if Connor saw the periodic table when he came, if he thought about metals and gasses, if he anxiously double-checked his brain to make sure he hadn’t screwed up someone’s prescription. He made a dove-like sound when he finished—a quiet, gray coo. Minnie laughed after she came. Maniacally in a burst. Connor shook his head and laughed with her, gently pulling the hem of her shirt down for her as she put it back on. Connor went barefoot to the vending area and brought back one of every candy bar—sugary-chocolate sticks of peanuts and nougat and almond and coconut and milk chocolate, dark chocolate—and they ate them in bed together, watching a documentary about the Great Barrier Reef.
“Everything is dying,” Minnie said as they watched the neon-green fingers of a sea anemone wiggle in the water. Glowing hot-purple, blue, and pink corals, crookedly stacked like dirty plates in a kitchen sink. She licked chocolate from her fingers and began to cry as the smack of a shock-yellow fish moved through the ocean. Connor pulled her close, touched the back of her neck and let his hand stay there.
“You’re okay,” he said. He said it again, softer.
Minnie snuck back into her room in the early morning hotel hallway light. No one knew what had happened but the two of them, not even Stella. And at breakfast, the only things Connor did to acknowledge it:
maintain eye contact while he took his shoe and purposely tapped the top of hers as she sat across from him putting jalape?o cream cheese on her toasted bagel
and
put his hand on the small of her back as they left the hotel. A light touch, like a feather blowing by. The wind?
Yes, it happened once. And sleeping with Connor was the worst thing she’d ever done. Couldn’t everyone see it? Didn’t the green-haze fug of it pulse from her skin?
* * *
Back in her basement, with Connor’s face on her phone screen, Minnie considered these things and simply said again, “That was a long time ago.”
“Well, about six weeks ago,” he corrected her. Frowned.
“Let’s talk about something else. Like, how I wish I had a cup of tea.”
“What kind?”
“Rooibos and honeybush with a wedge of lemon and a smidge of sweetness.”
“If you were here with me, I’d make you that cup of tea.”
“Would you?” she asked.
“You know I would,” Connor said.
Minnie took a deep breath in, tried to keep herself from crying and said, “Okay, I’m going to bed.”
“So am I,” he said.
Neither of them budged.
Neither of them looked away from their screens until Adam opened the basement door and Minnie jumped and ended the call.
“Sorry I startled you,” Adam said, yawning.
“I’m done down here,” she said.
“Good. I fell asleep. I couldn’t even hear you.”
“Go to bed. I’m coming up in a sec.”
“Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
When Adam was gone, Minnie texted Connor.
Sorry! It’s fine! I was just jumpy. Adam came down here. Thanks for practicing with me tonight. See you tmrw. X
He responded quickly.
No worries. Until tmrw. Goodnight, Minnie Mouse.
Minnie went upstairs, scrolled through Adam’s phone. There were no texts from Caitriona. Minnie was disappointed and felt foolish for that disappointment, which made her feel even worse. She was a black cloud, a sunken ship. She washed her hands at the kitchen sink, stood there drying them, staring off at nothing.
She got Caitriona’s number from Adam’s phone, beeped the digits into her own, and typed:
I know you’re in love with Adam. I know it. And trust me, I get it.
Minnie stared at those words, those letters, those symbols representing whatever they represented, in the language they both knew. She sent the text, then deleted it from her phone. She went to the bathroom, washed her face, flossed, brushed her teeth. She went into her purse and put that rose quartz on her nightstand. She didn’t believe in crystals, but she liked knowing it was there. She took off her clothes and got into bed with Adam. She’d tell him about Connor soon. And maybe he’d tell her the truth about Caitriona too. Soon enough. Maybe Adam knew about Connor already, the same way she already knew about Caitriona. Minnie fell asleep quickly, only to gasp awake with anxiety fifteen minutes later. Her heart, tap dancing. She arched her back and cooed like a dove, relieved when her husband reached over and moved her hair—his fingers, her nape, the lown dark.
Unknown Legend
She wanted to work in a diner because Neil Young sang about it in