Falter (6 page)

“My damn eyes are open!” I screamed, wiping my tears on my forearm. “Who are you?” Desperation was clear in the high pitch of my voice.
 

Dew on the mirror’s surface dripped through the letters. My heart skipped. What I saw may never show up again, and I would have no proof it happened.
 

Should I get someone?
 

No, Gavyn would think I was unstable
.
 

Maybe I was, but that’s beside the point. I couldn’t ruin this for George—or myself. George would make a joke out of it anyway, not wanting to admit something might be wrong.
 

There was no one to tell.
 

I stared at the drying mirror. The words were only a memory now, permanently fixed in my mind. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath to inhale any last bit of the ghostly scent.

Bang! Bang!
 

“Nevaeh, are you ok in there?”
 

I jumped. My eyes shot open at the sound of George’s voice shouting through the door. “I’m fine.”

“Did you fall asleep or somthin’?” he asked.
 

Confused, I surveyed the room. Everything was completely back to normal. Even my towel hung from its hook. I glanced down and found myself submerged in water. I didn’t remember getting back in the tub.
 

Had I not gotten out of the bathtub?
 

The water was tepid, so time must have passed.
 

I rubbed my thumbs over my pruned forefingers, staring blankly at the raised ridges. “I…I guess I did,” I replied to satisfy George—and to convince myself.
 

“Well, you need to hurry up. It’s late, and we have a job in the a.m., thank goo’ness.”
 

“George, I’m a big girl. It’s not a crime to soak in the tub a little past my bedtime if I want. I’ll be out when I get out. Go to bed you stubborn, old man.”
 

His angry footsteps quieted as they moved farther away.

“What the hell is going on?” I whispered to myself.

If I
had
dreamt all that, it was very freakin’ vivid. My head spun with theories attempting to explain what occurred.
 

I lifted myself out of the water, dried off, and tugged my t-shirt and sweats on. Rummaging through the small medicine cabinet, I found a brush. I worked the knots loose from my hair, staring at my reflection, and waited for the mirror to write me another message.
 

Nothing happened.
 

“Great, now I’m the queen from Snow White. Mirror, mirror on the wall who’s the craziest of us all?” I slammed the brush down on the sink, and like a little girl, stormed out of the bathroom in a tantrum of confusion.
 

The place was dark except for the bright, blue lights of the café signs glowing into the hallway. I crossed the corridor and entered my new bedroom-slash-lounge. George was fast asleep on the couch, loudly sucking all the air out of the room.
 

Blankets spread out over the cushions of my loveseat. He must have made the bed for me. Guilt stung as I remembered how short I was with him. I promised to apologize in the morning.

The loveseat called me to its cushions, and I gladly accepted, hoping a good night’s sleep would make sense of things tomorrow. As I drifted off, thoughts of the strange embrace from earlier comforted me. Maybe all the changes today have messed with my head—new home, a new job, and strangers that heightened my emotions in ways I wasn’t used to—it was a lot to take in.

I pushed the images out of my head and put them to rest for the night. My rigid body relaxed into the firm pillows.
 

Time to dream about ordinary things.
 

CHAPTER FOUR

A Thin Line Between Crazy and Insane

The scent of fresh brewed coffee drifted down the hallway and through the crack in my door, beckoning me to wake up. My eyes fluttered open and squinted from the bright, yellow rays shining through the window. I remained still, appreciating the beginnings of a new day in my new home.

The raucous of clanking pans and chairs sliding off the tables reverberated from down the hall. I looked over to see George’s bed was already empty.
 
His blankets rested neatly on the arm of the couch.
 

I forced my tired body up and raised my arms to stretch. The slight cramp in my legs from sleeping curled up on a loveseat shorter than me was much better than the aches and dampness I usually woke up to. A new outfit lay folded on the end table next to me. I threw my legs over the edge of the cushions and pressed my toes against the floor. The cold, wooden planks sent chills up my skin, forcing me to jerk my bare feet up. I fought the urge to crawl back into the cozy bed and hoisted myself off the cushions.
 

I doubled my blankets over my arm and stacked them on the couch, pondering the strange events from the night before. I rubbed my fingers across my forehead then gently pinched the ridge of my nose. My nervousness grew when I considered last night might be a side effect from the head injury I sustained long ago.
 

Had it damaged me to the point of insanity?
 

What I felt was real. It couldn’t have been a hallucination.
 

Do people who hallucinate know they’re seeing things?

There was a light tap on the door frame, jarring me from my thoughts. Probably better that way for now. Any more confusion might put a damper on my ability to function normally for the day.

 
The door eased open.

“Ah, she’s awake,” Gavyn mused, stepping into the room. He placed a steaming cup of coffee on the table next to me. “The crew meets here for breakfast before we open in the mornings. Fortunately for my employees, I don’t like to eat alone. Guess you could call it a perk.”

“Thanks. I’ll get straightened up and be right out.” I fiddled with the blankets to avoid eye contact.

“Layla left the clothes for ya. She said ya’ll are about the same size.”
 

The space between us filled with a long, awkward silence. I smacked the throw pillows with my hand, pretending to be preoccupied with tidying the room.
 

“George has already helped himself to two plates of pancakes, so you better hurry.” Gavyn smiled nervously, shoving his hands into his pockets. “See you in a minute then,” he said, waiting for a response.

I smiled and nodded. I didn’t know what else to say.

He turned and left the uncomfortable room.

Huffing out a breath of relief, I scooped up the donated clothing off the end table. I crossed the hallway to the bathroom and pulled the door shut behind me.
 

When I unfolded the outfit Layla left, a pair of pink panties fell from the pile and dropped to the floor. I chuckled and picked them up, examining a set of red kissy lips printed on the back. It was more about Layla than I really wanted to know, but I was grateful for them.

I pulled on the black slacks and a plum-purple, button-down shirt. My Mary Jane’s barely peeked out from under the pant legs that were almost too long. The confiscated blue ribbon from the day before matched, so I put it to good use. Watching my reflection to make sure I didn’t miss any stray hairs, I tied back the giant curls that formed from laying on wet hair most of the night.

Determination to prove I wasn’t crazy got the best of me. I leaned over the sink and pursed my mouth to blow on the mirror. Warm air crossed my lips, heating the glassy surface. The feeling of victory settled in my heart as faint, finger-drawn words appeared under my breath. The evidence was clear. I didn’t imagine what happened. But who would believe that some phantom made me write it? I was all alone in this.

The café was full of laughter as employees traded sarcastic comments. I lurked in the background, unnoticed for a moment, and admired what a family looked like. It was thrilling to consider I might be a part of it, too.
 

I strolled farther into the room and searched for a familiar face. Layla waved at me in a beckoning motion.

“Hon, you fill those pants out better than I ever did. Since they fit, I’ll bring more of my old outfits for ya. My closet’s too full anyway,” she admitted as I closed the distance between us. She hooked her arm around mine and proudly escorted me across the café like a shiny new toy.

“Thanks for all of this,” I added, picking up my pace to keep up with her.
 

Layla nodded and continued into the kitchen. “We have eggs and pancakes on the stove. Help yourself. You’ve got about a half hour, and then we’ll open. Plates are up there and silverware’s in the drawer.” She pointed to the wall opposite of us, then gracefully retreated back out into the hall.

“Good morning,” George greeted somberly from the doorway.

“Morning,” I returned, feeling guilty. “Hey, I’m sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. Guess I’m a little overwhelmed. Can you forgive me?” I put on a sweet expression, offering my best puppy-dog eyes.
 

“Nev, you’re like my own daughter. I could never be mad at you for long. I know you’re a little hormonal and all, bein’ a woman.” He let out a throaty chuckle and tugged me in for a hug. I rolled my eyes as I gave his round body one tight squeeze. Ducking out of his grasp, I reached up and opened the cabinet above us then grabbed a plate.
 

“These people are real nice.” George watched the crowd through the order window. “It’d be great if we stayed here a while. You should meet the others,” he urged.

“Already planned on it.” I smiled and kissed him on the cheek. “I’m going to eat. Talk to you in a bit.”
 

George ruffled my hair in that playful way he always did then left to join the crowd. I picked up a rubber spoon and began shoveling a large serving of eggs onto my plate.

Carrying my food to the dining room, I felt the awkward fluttering of butterflies commence in my stomach. I’d never fit well in big groups of people like this. Even though a shower and new clothes made me feel like a new person, it was hard to set aside my reclusive tendencies as an outsider.

I walked the length of the four tables that the others had pushed together to form one. Before I realized it, my head bowed in an attempt to hide from the inquisitive eyes assessing the new girl. I forced my chin up, feigning confidence, and took the vacant seat near the end of the table.
 

A young redhead next to me dipped her chin toward me and smiled politely then continued conversing with a man across the table who was focused on buttering his bread. The dining area hummed with the gossip of the morning.

I scanned the faces creating our rectangle of friends and noticed Gavyn’s gaze lingering on me from three seats down. He grinned and stood up, capturing the attention of the other workers.
 

“This is Nevaeh. Make sure y’all don’t scare her and George off with your foolishness, please.” Gavyn chuckled and ducked as a blond guy with a mohawk threw a piece of pancake at him. “Now, now. No need to get hostile, Jason.”
 

Gavyn winked at me and began calling out names, one after another, introducing each individual with pride.
 
I forced a timid smile and stood, shaking hands with every member of the staff until I met them all. A thankful sigh left my lips when my awkward moment in the spotlight was over. I settled back in my chair and picked up my fork eager to finish eating and get on with business.

The second day started off easier, less chaotic. When the doors opened, it didn’t take long for the flow of customers to find their way inside. The café teemed with the bantering of hungry diners.
 

Everyone who passed through our door seemed cheery, like this was the only place they wanted to be. It was easy to revel in the constant happiness the café emitted. I was amazed with how accepted I already felt. There was a sense of unconditional belonging.

I stationed myself by the door, greeting and ushering new patrons to their tables. When I wasn’t preoccupied, I enjoyed wiping down the windows. The mindless activity allowed me to gaze out into the streets and people watch—one of my favorite pastimes.