That wasn’t for me to know. To wonder. None of it.
With one last glance around the room, I reluctantly left.
I trudged directly to the kitchen and took a fresh sticky note from the stack, deciding I needed to add more to my response.
The top of the new one read:
If you’re not getting older, you’re dead
I supposed that was true, so I didn’t strike it out this time.
I picked up the pen and wrote:
Cappuccino in the morning (hot),
Sweet tea in the afternoon (cold)
P.S. You?
I hesitated just a moment, then added:
P.S.Thank you.
P.P.S. For everything.
The sticky part of the new one was fresh, so it stuck nicely to Adair’s doorjamb.
With that done, I dipped into my room with Adair’s original sticky note still crumpled in my hand and tossed it onto the bed. After changing into fresh clothes for my meeting with Ari, I hesitated at the door for several seconds before turning around, grabbing the note, and yanking open my nightstand drawer. Gil’s tool belt greeted me as I dropped the balled up paper inside.
Then I shut the drawer slowly, with much more care than I’d opened it.
I was keeping the damn sticky note so I wouldn’t forget the kindness. Even if it eventually hurt to remember.
26
ADAIR
“I’m second guessing this, Delly.”
She took Ireland’s small cake out of the fridge and put it on the counter. “Why?”
I rubbed the back of my neck and grimaced at the sand sticking to my skin. We hadn’t even spent an hour at the beach, but somehow brought back enough sand to make our own beach. “What if it’s too much? What if there’s a reason she didn’t tell us?”
Delly threw her hands in the air and hissed, “Why would you ask that now?”
“I don’t know!” I said, throwing my hands up too. “This went better in my head. But she’s been in her room since we got back, and I know she’s going over to see her dad soon. What do we do?”
“Here, I’ll just text her,” Delly said as she whipped out her phone.
I frowned, dropping my hands. “You have her number?”
“Yes, doofus,” she said as she typed away.
What could she be texting to her that required so many letters?
She glanced up at me. “Do you want me to send you her number?”
“Yes. No.” I paused, then reiterated, “No. Not without her permission.”
