poured creamer for coffee. And the cat salt and pepper shakers.
But this…
“You’re raw,” Bel said. “Because of your past. Which makes for good writing now.”
I froze and looked over my shoulder. “What?”
“I can read between the lines in the stories. Looking for comfort. Looking for a safe home. I’m not asking you to write me a novel. Or write the greatest story ever told. But if you’re interested in doing something with writing, I would love to help out.”
“Trust me, you don’t know anything about me,” I said. “Neither does Grace. You’re both way off the mark here.”
“Or maybe right on it,” Bel said. “That’s why you’re running. Protecting your heart. Which is beautiful.”
“I’m taking a shower,” I said.
I had no idea why I decided to announce that.
I was pissed off as I dumped the notebooks on my bed.
Writing was a thing of the past for me. And anything that was considered current was only what I did for fun and nothing else. Those stupid stories of talking animals I used to write about as a young girl. That’s what I sometimes still wrote.. For fun. Not for money. Not for seriousness.
And I didn’t care whether Bel was popular or not, the words I wrote were for me and nobody else.
I just wanted to come home after actually working an early shift, take a shower and try to relax.
I opened my bedroom door to find Grace standing there.
“You forgot this,” she said, holding the glass of wine again.
“What are you trying to do?” I asked.
“Be mad at me, that’s fine. Just have some wine and talk.”
“I said I’m taking a shower,” I said.
“With wine.”
“With wine,” I said, taking the glass from Grace.
I thought about showering and then packing my bags and leaving. But I had nowhere to go. This was my home. Crazy roommate and all.
I managed to sneak into the bathroom without seeing Bel again.
After I locked the door, I put the glass of wine on the ledge of the bathroom sink.
I looked at myself in the mirror.
I needed something stronger than wine to get through the rest of the night.
“You can hate me all you want,” Grace said as she stood in the doorway.
I held the towel tight to my body. Grace may have been okay with walking around the apartment mostly naked - or completely naked a few times - but I wasn’t.
“I just know what Bel is looking for. She’s reaching out to heal her soul. It’s not like this thing is worldwide. I had been talking to her again, just keeping up with her recovery.”
“Recovery, huh?” I asked.
“When the soul breaks, it’s hard to put back together.”
People paid Grace to hear this stuff.
“My point is this, Amelia,” she said. “You’ve talked about writing several times. When you drink too much, it’s all you can talk about. And it’s something you should do. You enjoy doing.”
“What do I want to do with some stranger, Grace? Some stranger’s blog? Seriously?”
“Well, there’s a little more to it.”
“Of course there is,” I said. “There’s always a little more to it with you.”
“There’s this art thing happening tomorrow.”
“Art thing?”
“Gallery? Showing? Event? I don’t know what it’s called. But this guy takes pictures and then paints on them or something. You sort of know him.”
I raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“Josh.”
“Josh?” I asked.
“Yeah. Josh. He’s the artist. And Bel was thinking if you went there and he recognized you, you’d be able to talk to him a little. You could write something up and she’d publish it online. That’s it.”
“Josh,” I whispered as my memory began to jog.
How many people named Josh had I met in my entire life? And I was supposed to just-
My mind froze.
I tried to keep a straight face.
But I wasn’t good at keeping a straight face. Ever. That’s what always got me into so much trouble when I was a young girl.
Grace slowly started to smile, seeing the reaction on my face.
“I guess you remember, huh?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I guess I do.”
“Whatever you decide, Amelia, it’s your choice. I was just trying to help. I knew if I talked to you about it, you’d push me away. So maybe having Bel here… well, that was a stupid idea. She did leave you this though.”
Grace brought an envelope from behind her back. She stepped into my room and slid it onto the nightstand.
Then she slipped away to where I wouldn’t see her for the rest of the night.
I made sure to lock my bedroom door before dropping the towel