The Ghost of a Chance by Natalie Vivien Read Free Book Online Page B

hip.
    My first letter from Catherine is
at the very bottom of the box. Its edges have yellowed a bit with age. I unfold
it carefully. The paper crackles in my hands.
    Catherine had large, looping
handwriting. She always signed her name with the shape of a five-petaled flower
hooked onto the "C."
    I can't touch the surface of the
letter, afraid of smearing it or wrinkling it, or polluting its floral scent
with my own perfume, dull and vanilla.
    A whiff of violets and lilacs fills
my nostrils as I replace the letter in the box, cover it with the jewelry
compartment and close the lid. I pat the rock in my pocket to make certain it's
still there.
    I wrap my arms around myself,
trying to cover up the hollow cavity where Catherine's heart nestled only hours
ago.
    Empty now.
     
    ---
     
    Alis lays her car keys, along with
a thick pile of unopened envelopes and a large paper bag, on the kitchen
counter. "I brought in your mail. Looks like there are a lot of bills
here..."
    "Oh." I rub at the back
of my neck, regarding the letters with half-closed eyes. "I'll take care
of them later. I've just been so..." My hands dangle in mid-air, useless,
as I search for the right words. "Things like bills—" I pick up an
envelope from the phone company but make no move to open it. "They seem
inconsequential right now. I just—there's no room in my head to think of
them."
    "Hey." Alis takes the
bill from my hand and wraps me in her arms. "No one expects you to be
fully functional at this point, Darcy. You need help." She pulls back a
bit, moving her hands to my waist. "That's what I'm here for. I really..."
Her eyes bore into mine, soft and searching. "I care about you."
    Trembling, I pull her close against
me, resting my chin on her shoulder. Her presence is so warm, steady,
comforting. I'd like to drink this feeling down, hold it deep within me, to
draw from whenever I'm poised on the edge of reason. "Thank you," I
whisper into her hair. Her heart, keeping time with mine, suddenly quickens,
and she slowly backs away.
    "I brought salads from the
deli." Alis reaches into the paper bag and hands me a plastic container
full of greens. "I didn't know what sort of dressing you liked best,
so..." She spills the remaining contents of the bag onto the counter—eight
foil packets of dressing, in eight different flavors. "I brought all of
them."
    Smiling, I tilt my head at her,
still basking in the glow of her calming embrace. "You're too good to
me."
    She looks down and shakes her head
for a moment, then gives me an odd look, deep and full of...what? I can't be
certain. Her eyelids flutter, and she turns away again. "You're too hard
on yourself," she says quietly. "You need to be taken care of."
    "But why should you be the one
to take care of me?" My voice is low, barely above a whisper. "I'm no
longer your responsibility. Mrs. Corde let you go."
    "But...but I—I'm a nurse, you
know." She sits down at the table with her own salad and removes the
plastic lid, poking at a tomato with her fork. "It's like second nature to
me. Plus..." I sit down beside her, and she offers me a shy smile. "I
like you, Darcy," she says. Her hand captures mine and delivers a gentle
squeeze. "I just want you to feel strong again, and happy."
    I squeeze back but rest my eyes on
the photograph of Catherine and me that hangs beside the switch plate. Last
winter. Catherine in her fuchsia knit cap, with the pompom on top, kissing my
cold, flushed cheek. She took the picture herself, reaching her arm around in
front of our faces, and miraculously managed to get a perfect shot.
    I was happy then.
    But to be happy without her? I
can't imagine it. Alis doesn't understand.
    Still, I give her a weak smile and
gesture toward my salad. "This looks great. Thank you so much.   I mean, for all that you've done for
me."
    She waves a hand in the air,
dismissing my gratitude, and stands up to take the kettle from the stove.
"I'll make tea." She plants her hand on her hip and nods. "Tea
always