#(shut off my alarm mid sleep... Sigh. I had hoped to catch some sun today but no such lucl | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

roman-writing · 4 years ago

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bring home a haunting (5/12)

Fandom: The Haunting of Bly Manor

Pairing: Dani Clayton/Jamie Taylor

Rating: M

Wordcount: 27,895

Summary: Dani almost has her life together, when a familiar face arrives back in town after ten years. A childhood friends AU written with @youngbloodbuzz

read it below or read it on AO3 here

When Dani woke up next Sunday morning before the sun, trembling under the sheets as a cold sweat ran down her body, she struggled to control her shallow breaths. Her heart raced in her chest, galloping from a nightmare that was swiftly vanishing into the shadows. Her jaw was locked in place, teeth clenched so hard she could feel the pressure in her skull. It took a great effort to will herself to move, to do anything more than twitch her fingertips and tremble, jerking fully awake as though strings were tied to her joints.

The sky outside was a dark blue peeking through the shape of the curtains against the window. Slowly, Dani managed to stretch out from the tight ball she had curled herself in to lay on her back. She exhaled. Hesitantly, shakily, she risked a glance next to her to see Eddie still asleep, his back facing her. She exhaled again, long and slow and a little more steady. For a brief intense moment, Dani wanted to reach over and wrap herself around him, to wake him up and make him hold her tight until the trembling stopped. Instead, she pressed her eyes shut and wiped at her cheeks and tried to quietly settle her breathing. After what could’ve been just a minute or an hour, feeling more like herself and less like something was crushing her chest, Dani squeezed her eyes shut, reaching for remnants of the nightmare, but any memory of it was long gone by now.

Maybe it was the dinner with Eddie’s boss and his wife, where it felt as though she was seeing the rest of her life flash before her eyes. Or maybe it was being in Jamie’s new home; warm and bright and welcoming. A direct contrast to the last time Dani had been in a house Jamie belonged to. Sneaking into the old abandoned railway bungalow with a spare key, the once bright house a ruin of dust and peeling wallpaper and the crunch of glass underfoot.

She reached her hand out and placed it against the broad flat of Eddie's back, holding it gently there, feeling him breathe, adjusting her own breaths to match. The cotton weave of his shirt was warm, trapped between them. He did not stir even when she stroked her thumb in a pattern against his spine. The sound of his alarm going off made her start, her already shot nerves ringing like a claxon. Only then did Eddie move, pressing the alarm off and rolling over to cuddle into her side, his eyes closed and his face pressed into her shoulder. And only then did Dani remember she still had to face church and lunch first before she could even think of delving into the comfort of Jamie’s house. She swallowed down an unpleasant feeling rising up in her throat, her stomach twisting.

“Morning,” Eddie mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

Sighing, Dani lifted an arm to drape across his shoulder. “Morning,” she murmured, her other hand dropping to the arm he had snaked across her waist.

He was quiet for a long moment, his slow breath soft against her skin, and then he said, “Pancakes.”

Dani blinked. “Mmm?”

“Pancakes,” Eddie mumbled. “Want pancakes.”

There was a pause before Dani chuckled, her throat feeling thick as she pressed her cheek to his thick dark hair. His wants and desires had always fallen so easily from him, from morning pancakes to endlessly asking for her hand in marriage.

“Eddie?” she started softly. He hummed in response, indicating he was listening. She swallowed hard, her fingers fiddling with the fabric of his t-shirt. “I think I’m gonna skip church today.”

When he didn’t respond after a long moment, Dani feared he fell back asleep and all the courage she managed to grasp would slip away until finally he shifted, rising to lean on his elbow and frown softly down at her. “Again?” he asked gently, “Why?”

It took her longer than she hoped to find the words to respond. “I just — I didn’t sleep very well.”

He pressed his mouth in a thin line, concern in his eyes as he lifted the hand from her waist to sweep a strand of hair behind her ear. “You okay?”

Dani nodded, forcing her mouth into a reassuring smile. “Yeah,” she murmured, “I just - um. I think I just need a break from it, you know? I’m pretty tired this morning.”

He mirrored her nod, the corners of his mouth pulling into a soft grin. “I get it. It’s been a bit stressful recently, with moving houses and new school year and all,” he said, and chuckled, “Mrs. Townsend really doesn’t know to let it rest, huh? Every Sunday, like clockwork. Hasn’t stopped bugging us about wedding plans and we haven’t even started yet.”

Her stomach twisted in a knot at the reminder. “Yeah,” she murmured, her eyes drifting away briefly, “She can be a lot.”

Eddie stared at her quietly, his eyes still heavy from sleep, and said, “Our moms are gonna wonder where you are again, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. Um - can you just -?”

“Hey,” he interrupted, grinning and shaking his head, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll make up an excuse.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Just want you happy.”

Dani couldn’t help smiling sleepily up at him, even as his grin turned mischievous. “Or maybe I can play hooky too,” he said, “You and I can make a day of it.”

It took all of Dani’s self control to not react to that, to not let the panic rising in her throat like bile show on her face, and instead she said, “And risk the both of us being the headlines of the rumor circuit this week?”

His face blanched. “Good point.”

It was by the grace of Dani’s fortune that Eddie valued their privacy as much as she did. But then he grinned again, his eyes tracing down to her mouth. When he started to lean down, Dani turned her head just in time for him to press his lips against her cheeks.

“Morning breath,” she said sheepishly, the panic back with a vengeance.

He pulled back and fondly rolled his eyes. “All right, have it your way,” he said, and pressed another kiss to her cheek. “You rest for a little bit longer. I’m going to go get ready, and get started on pancakes.”

“Oh, you were serious about that?” Dani said with a teasing grin, curling into the sheets as he slipped out of bed, “Thought you were sleep talking.”

“I’m always serious about my pancakes,” he said with a faux-glower, leaving Dani in bed with one last chuckle and disappearing into their ensuite bathroom.

She tried to sleep again afterwards. Curling away into her own corner of the bed, her back facing Eddie’s side of the room, lying in the state between being awake and drifting off back to sleep, distantly listening to Eddie shuffling around the room quietly. When he finally left to descend downstairs, only then did Dani let herself sink into the sheets, the coiling tension in her shoulders she hadn’t realized was there before slipping away. And then, her eyes flickered open, drifting towards the red numbers of her clock to see that somehow another half hour had passed. She blinked and swallowed heavily, feeling splintered right down the middle.

Dani left bed soon after that. Washing up and dressing in a pair of jeans and a sweater before descending the stairs towards the kitchen where Eddie, in only his dress pants and a white undershirt, was waiting for her by the stove with a warm grin and a plate of blueberry pancakes. In the few steps it took to walk towards him, Dani gathered her courage with a slow inhale and greeted him with a thankful kiss, brief and chaste. He smiled down at her, his eyes bright as Dani tried desperately to ignore the guilt pressing under her ribs.

They ate together with a companionable ease as he read the newspaper in between inquiries on what her agenda was for the day now that she had the rare free time to herself. She shrugged noncommittally with the mention of finishing grading school work and catching up on lesson plans. She then paused for a long moment, fiddling with the cutlery in her hands, before she said, “And I’m — I may go have lunch with Jamie again.”

He paused, mid-sip from his coffee. “That sounds nice,” he said, setting down his mug, his face going soft with a contemplative look before catching her eyes, ”I’m glad. That you two are friends again. I know how much you missed her.”

Dani’s breath caught in her chest, unblinking as she stared at him. “Yeah,” she murmured.

“And,” Eddie continued with a sigh, rolling his eyes, “Guess I’d be lying if I said a part of me didn’t miss her too. When she wasn’t being so annoying, that is.”

Dani laughed. “You know, she still thinks you’re upset that she accidentally set your homework on fire,” she said, popping another bite of pancakes in her mouth with a grin.

Twisting his mouth, Eddie gave her a look. “That was no accident,” he said, “She cheated off me and wanted to hide the evidence.” When Dani laughed again, memories of the old argument coming back to her, Eddie was unable to hide his fond grin as he quietly watched her. Seeing this, Dani slowly sobered, ducking her head. “Haven’t seen you laugh like that in a while.”

She shrugged. “I’m just — “ she paused to settle the buzzing under her skin, trying to find the words “ — I have my two best friends back in my life again, what’s there not to laugh about.”

He regarded her with a kind smile. “Well, I’m happy that you’re happy, then.”

Dani paused, knowing that statement was both true, and somehow utterly wrong all at once. Yet, she smiled gratefully at him all the same.

After they finally finished their breakfast, Dani insisted on doing the clean up. He grinned and kissed the side of her head as she flipped open the tap, and returned upstairs to finish getting ready. When the dishes were done, Dani took the opportunity to spread out her textbooks and binders of notes on the kitchen table, keen to get some work done.

When Eddie finally returned with his tie dangling loose from his neck and his suit jacket draped across his arm, he groaned and laughed. “This is getting to be a problem,” he said, gesturing towards the table, already overflowed, barely a speck of the wooden table visible beneath Dani’s work. “I think your books ate the table.”

Dani gave him a look. “Being a teacher is a lot of work,” was all she said, a tension pulling at her shoulders.

“Didn’t say it wasn’t,” Eddie replied, and waved one end of his tie at her, “You mind, uh…”

She softened at his sheepish grin, and with a faint smile she stepped in front of him and diligently set to tying his tie, knowing very well he did this on purpose just to be close to her. At the exact moment Dani expected it, Eddie’s hands came to rest on her waist. When she was done, she looked up at him to see him affectionately smiling down at her.

“Thanks,” he murmured.

Dani could only nod, knowing this part of the dance very well. When he leaned down, his eyes intent on her mouth, Dani pressed her own eyes closed and let herself fall away, slipping on the mask of Danielle as Eddie pressed his mouth to hers in what should’ve felt like a warm fortifying kiss. But when he pulled away, his eyes bright and cheeks flushed, all Dani felt was an encompassing strain across her skin.

“Still sure about me not playing hooky?” Eddie said, a glint in his eyes.

Pressing her mouth in a thin line, Dani pushed his glasses up his nose and then gently shoved him back by the shoulders. He went easily with a chuckle. “Yes, I’m very sure,” she said, “I don’t particularly feel like being the center of attention, if you don’t mind.”

“Guess we’ll have enough of that at my aunt’s place in a few weeks,” he agreed, and she felt her heart sink at the thought.

When he eventually left with a conceding grin and another kiss, this time thankfully to her cheek, Dani was finally left alone. The house felt inexplicably empty. Smaller. Like the walls were easing closer after being expanded for so long to fit Eddie’s tall frame. Ignoring the feeling, Dani set to work, starting with grading homework. It was a simple distraction, one she took to with an easy eagerness, pleased to see the progress of her students. But it was the ticking clock that hung on the wall opposite her that kept drawing her eyes. Kept taunting her with the passing of time with every tick, indicating the passing seconds, the minutes.

It was early still, she knew. 9:24am. Too early for lunch, and too late for breakfast. But there was a temptation that lingered over her, one that made her bite at the end of her pen and stare at the clock with a piercing intensity. The temptation to have more time at Jamie’s house. To escape the oppressive air of the kitchen she sat in to instead sink into a threadbare blue couch across town.

Dani spent another fifteen minutes debating with herself before finally making a decision, exhaling sharply and jumping into action. She took care to repack her work into her bag and set off to her car with it in hand, not bothering to change into anything special.

In the short time it took for Dani to make a quick pit stop at A Batter Place before driving to Jamie’s house, the route already familiar and etched into her memory, nerves worked itself under her skin again. Her heart beating just a tick faster as she bit her lip. But when she drove up to the house and saw Jamie’s truck sitting in her driveway, Dani exhaled slowly, a little steadier.

Walking up to the front door was a curious event of itself. The closer she got to the red door, the more she could hear a deep rhythmic bass of music coming from the other side. A grin sneaked on her face as she strained her ears, hearing the distinct sounds of guitar and drums. She rang the doorbell a few times to be heard over the blaring music. It took a minute, but then she finally heard the music being turned down just a little before there was the clinking sound of a chain being undone and the door being unlocked.

When the door swung open, she was greeted to what sounded like David Bowie and Jamie blinking at her, eyes wide. Her hair was tied back with a bandana, and she wore a black tank top and sweatpants rolled up to her knees, a bright sheen to her skin as if she had just run a marathon. Dani blinked rapidly, pulling her eyes away from the bare skin of Jamie’s neck where a long silver link necklace descended below the collar of her shirt to catch her gaze.

“You’re early,” Jamie said, mouth pulling into a crooked grin.

Dani winced, only now just noticing a citrus scent that accompanied the mop in Jamie’s hand. “Sorry, um — guess I should’ve called,” she said, and jerked her thumb behind her, “I could - I could come back? You seem busy and —”

“Poppins,” Jamie interrupted with a patient smile, and gestured widely for Dani to enter the house, “Get in.”

Grinning sheepishly, Dani stepped inside, careful to slip out of her flats on the welcome mat and not on the hardwood floors, and set them neatly aside. Jamie shut the door and set the mop against the side table to lead her further into the house. Already, Dani felt lighter just by being inside.

“Excuse the mess,” Jamie said, guiding her into the kitchen, “We’ve been cleaning all morning.”

Dani swept her eyes across the room, seeing the space spotlessly clean besides the pots of plants carefully cluttered across the kitchen island and dining table, waiting to be returned to their usual spots. Dani turned back to Jamie with an arched incredulous eyebrow. Jamie snorted with a laugh.

“You missed breakfast too, sorry to say,” Jamie said.

“That’s all right,” Dani said, holding up the takeout bag in her hand, “I dropped by Owen’s.”

Jamie’s eyes lit up and she grinned broadly. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re trying to spoil us.”

Dani shrugged. “Just wanted to do something nice.”

For a long moment, Jamie just stared at her with soft affection. But then, underneath the blaring music still coming from Jamie’s stereo system, there was the distinct sound of feet rapidly thudding down the hall. Dani turned towards the sound just in time to see Mikey sliding into view on his socks, shredding an air guitar solo with those bright neon green glasses perched on his nose. Dani bit her lip hard to refrain from laughing fondly as he rocked out quietly to himself. It was the most energetic she’d ever seen him.

Behind her, Jamie snorted. The sound was loud enough for Mikey to hear. He froze, his head darting towards them, and he shot upright like a taut rubber band let loose. He stood silent, his arms held tight to his side, his cheeks bright red. Dani could easily imagine his eyes wide and blinking in panic through the dark lens of those ridiculous glasses that had looked so absurd on Jamie, but endearing on Mikey.

“Um — “ he started, his hands fidgeting, “Hi, Miss Clayton.”

“Hi,” she said, offering him a kind smile, “Just Dani is fine here, remember?”

He nodded. A beat passed, and then without another word, he sped away into the living room and went careening over the couch to hide. Dani struggled not to laugh out loud to spare him from further embarrassment, but Jamie had no such reservations. She snorted loudly again, and stepped closer to the entranceway of the kitchen.

“Oi, if you're gonna hide, at least be productive about it and go vacuum your room!" Jamie called out to be heard over the music.

If Mikey responded at all, it was muffled under the music, but he still shot up from the couch and dashed towards the staircase where Dani could hear his feet thudding with each step through the floor until she could hear the slam of his bedroom door. It was only then that Dani let out a laugh, still struggling to keep it quiet, her hand over her mouth. Jamie was bent over, clutching her side as she laughed in that quiet way that pained her stomach.

“Christ, please don’t die on my kitchen floor,” Jamie said, when they couldn’t stop, struggling to speak, “I just mopped.”

“Does he always do that?” Dani asked when she could finally breathe again.

Jamie nodded. “Yeah,” she said in between breathless laughs, leaning heavily against the counter, “Though something tells me he may never do it again. Shame. I was building up an impressive blackmail portfolio.”

Dani nudged her arm, laughing. “Don’t be mean.”

Rolling her eyes, Jamie grinned wide, the scar descending from her mouth to chin on display in the morning light cascading through the windows. “No promises,” she said, and exhaled slowly, regaining her breath. “Best get back to it then. We shouldn’t be much longer.” She gestured to the room. “Feel free to help yourself to anything if you’re hungry or want a brew. Just don’t save any of your poison for us, is all I ask.”

Dani snorted. “Brave words to say to someone who kindly brought you some of Owen’s pastries,” she said.

“Prefer to live life on the edge.”

“Don’t I know it,” Dani muttered, eyes narrowed playfully. Jamie only shrugged.

Dani set the takeout bag on the counter. When her eyes caught sight of the dining table tucked to a small corner, the window beside it casting streaks of bright light across, a thought occurred to her.

“Hey, do you mind if I do some school work here while you guys finish up?” Dani asked, turning back to Jamie to see her arms pulled up in a stretch, the fabric of her tank top dragging up just enough for a sliver of a toned stomach to briefly appear.

“Don’t see why not,” Jamie said, exhaling through pursed lips as she let go of the stretch, shaking out her arms. Dani could only blink as Jamie grinned at her. “Make yourself at home.”

Jamie left her to do just that, disappearing into the hallway to call out again, “I don’t hear the vacuum going!” Seconds later, there was the sound of a vacuum humming through the floor.

Left alone in the kitchen, Dani wrapped her arms loosely around her stomach, glancing around, unsure where to start. It wasn’t often she was left to her own devices in a house she wasn’t acquainted with. But the blue kettle on the stove, the well loved potted plants, the fridge covered in scattered magnets, homework graded with top marks, and a grocery list in Jamie’s scrawl — there were little touches of Jamie everywhere. Little familiarities that settled the nerves in her stomach.

She started with the kettle. It took a minute to figure out Jamie’s stove, but eventually she had the kettle happily heating up. In the meantime, she ran back to her car to retrieve her work bag and returned just as the kettle started to whistle. In no time, Dani had set up on the dining table; the windows pushed open to let in the cool morning air, and binders and textbooks once again spread out across a table, this time with a pot of tea and a croissant by her side.

It was oddly peaceful, working to the sound of music still playing, softer now but no less raucous, and of Jamie and Mikey moving about as they cleaned. There was the occasional thump on the wall as the whirring of the vacuum traveled across the top floor, the muffled voices and periodic bouts of laughter. At one point, there was the rattling of pipes, loud and startling as though a train had crashed right through the house, traveling down the walls and settling with a weary groan.

“All right, all right, wind your bloody neck in,” Dani heard Jamie’s voice through the floor as the sound eventually gave way to the muffled rush of water, the shower getting started. "You first. Go on, then."

Chuckling, Dani shook her head and took another sip of her tea before returning to her work. It was a great, good place, Dani decided. The house occupied for just a little over three months, and somehow it was already so lived in and welcoming. As though Dani could just sink right into it, and the house would morph itself around her like a well used wooden chair, worn away to the imprint of those who sat there before. She felt as though she could reach out and press her palm to the pale wall next to her, it would give way, leaving behind the impression of her hand, and there it would remain. A piece of her to prove that she was here.

Dani hadn’t realized she had drifted off into her thoughts, chin on her palm, her free hand twiddling her pen, until Jamie and Mikey returned to the kitchen. They gently jostled each other as they pushed their way in, their hair towel dried and still damp from their showers. Dani jerked upright and smiled at them.

“Good god,” Jamie said, chuckling as she took notice of Dani’s piles of work, “What have you done to my table?”

Feeling her cheeks warm, Dani’s eyes flitted away, already reaching to stack loose sheets of paper together. “Sorry, I’m - I just had a lot to finish, and your table is small, and — ”

“Said I didn’t mind, didn’t I,” Jamie said. Dani blinked up at her and nodded. Jamie picked up a page to absentmindedly drift her eyes over. “Not a lot of time to work at home, then?”

“Not a lot of room, actually,” Dani said, more gruffly than she had meant. A twinge of guilt pulled at her chest.

“No desk at home?”

Dani shook her head. "Never had one.”

A thoughtful look bloomed across Jamie’s features. She hummed softly with her brow furrowed. “A teacher without a proper desk. Doesn’t seem right.”

Dani only shrugged. It was what it was. For years now, Dani had only ever needed kitchen or dining tables to do her work. Never wanting more than what she already had. What would be the point anyway, when she’d never had the room before.

When Dani didn’t add anything more to her response, Jamie glanced back down to the sheet in her hand and smirked, a glint in her eyes. “Oh, lookit here, Mikey,” she said, twisting around to wave the page in Mikey’s direction, “If you play your cards right, you could get all the answers you need for that test you’ve been cramming your head for.”

Mikey, who had yet to look in Dani’s direction since entering the kitchen, was manning the stove, settling the kettle on a back coil to heat up. At Jamie’s comment, his face twisted up in distaste.

“That’s cheating,” he said.

“Not if you get the answers from the teacher herself.”

“That’s still cheating.”

“Is it, though?”

He scowled at her. “Yes.”

Dani pulled her lips between her teeth to refrain from laughing as Jamie gave him a look of bewilderment.

“Are you sure we’re related?” Jamie asked. “Who are you?”

Huffing in response, Mikey returned to stand sentry before the stove, waiting for the kettle’s whistle with his arms crossed. Jamie snickered and turned back to Dani, her smirk softening as she handed back the sheet to Dani.

“Don’t worry,” Jamie said, gesturing to the now neat stack of binders and textbooks, “You can finish after Mikey’s put you through Star Trek again, if you like.”

A warmth spread across Dani’s chest. “I would like that, yeah,” she said, smiling.

“Good,” Jamie replied, and reached to pick up the teapot, shaking it gently, “Done with your poison, then?”

Rolling her eyes, Dani nodded, but couldn’t hide the way the corners of her mouth curled up. Jamie smirked again, a mischievous tilt to it, and her eyes darted down towards the half eaten croissant on the saucer next to Dani. When she reached out with her free hand towards it, Dani slapped it away.

“There’s more for you in the bag,” Dani admonished as Jamie jerked away from Dani’s hand, chuckling.

Instead of remaining at the table as Jamie and Mikey puttered around the kitchen and set the table with nothing else to do but awkwardly sit and stare, Dani jumped at the opportunity to help, dismissing Jamie’s chiding with a wave of her hand. She gathered the plates and cutlery as Mikey attended to the tea and Jamie went about returning flowers and plants to their proper place, until finally they were gathered around the table, eating pastries from the cafe and drinking their tea with affable ease.

“We boring you?” Jamie asked at one point, noticing Dani’s heavy eyes and chin on her palm as she was listening to the soft banter between the siblings.

Dani shook her head. “Just happy to be here.”

Slowly, Jamie’s face went slack, softening to an expression Dani couldn’t decipher. Jamie grinned and promptly hid it behind her mug as she sipped her tea.

When lunch was done and dishes cleaned, they settled once again with an eager Mikey on the couch. Instead of perching in the middle, this time Mikey seized the corner for himself, still apparently not entirely recovered from his embarrassment. At Jamie’s snicker when she took the middle seat, he shot daggers at her. With nowhere else to sit besides next to Jamie, Dani settled into the couch, careful not to jostle it too much or graze against her.

Jamie offered her a grin. “Sure you don’t want a beer?”

“I’m sure.”

Shrugging, Jamie took a deep sip from her bottle and sank further into the cushions, once again lifting up her feet to rest on the stained coffee table.

“All right, mate, let’s see what Captain Bald Guy is up to this time,” Jamie said, gesturing towards the television with her beer.

“He’s not Captain bald guy!” Mikey replied hotly. Dani couldn’t help but laugh.

“He is kinda bald, though.”

“He has a name!”

It was like being fifteen again, pressed up next to Jamie in the O’Mara’s basement when they had all gathered around the tv for the animated television special of The Hobbit where Jamie had relentlessly and goodnaturedly mocked Eddie for it. The familiarity of it coiled warmly around her. Memories dredging up of lazily lounging on Jamie’s couch at the old bungalow, sitting through another episode of Wonder Woman on Nan’s ancient tiny television. Jamie sighing exasperatedly, but never once complaining. She never took her eyes off the television when Lynda Carter was on screen either.

After the episode came another session of Q&A’s with Mikey that Dani happily partook in, finding herself becoming invested in the show herself. Jamie rolled her eyes with a long suffering sigh, and once again left them to it, muttering to herself as she withdrew into the kitchen.

“Do you want to watch one of the movies?” Mikey asked, “I have all of them upstairs.”

Dani could easily picture Jamie’s pained face. On cue, she heard from the kitchen, “She has work to do!”

“Oh,” Mikey winced, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Dani said, chuckling and leaned closer as if divulging a secret, “Next time.”

Dani left him to his devices, his eyes bright with an eager mischief at the possibility of torturing Jamie some more. She found Jamie brewing another pot, shooting Dani a grin over her shoulder when she heard her come in. Without a word uttered between them, Dani quietly fell back into her work as Jamie set a mug next to her, already made to Dani’s specifications, and disappeared to the living room with another mug in hand. She didn’t return for a few minutes, allowing Dani the time to work quietly, before returning smelling of smoke, sans the mug.

Dani flit her eyes towards her as she began making another cup of tea seemingly for herself now. “You don’t smoke in the house?”

“Nope. Never,” Jamie said, “Think I want the kid ending up like you? Wheezing every ten steps? Not on my bloody watch.”

“I have an inhaler, thank you,” Dani said, nudging her bag with her foot, “I don’t wheeze anymore.”

“You sure about that? ‘Cause I swore earlier, you were about to collapse in the — “

Dani threw a pen cap at her. Laughing, Jamie flinched away in an exaggerated motion. “Easy with that. Could take out an eye, you know.”

Rolling her eyes, Dani laughed and shook her head. It was all too easy. The way Jamie switched on the kitchen radio on low, just enough to keep them company. The way Jamie sank into a chair opposite her, lounging back and resting her legs on the chair beside her, her tea carefully in hand. The way Jamie kept silent for the most part besides soft murmured comments and conversations over whatever came to mind, her fingers tapping to the beat of the music. The way Dani didn’t mind her presence as she worked, a companionable ease that reminded her of days when they’d study or suffer through homework together.

And when it finally came time for Dani to make her way out, her work bag repacked and a quick “See you, tomorrow,” to Mikey, it was terrifyingly easy to linger in the entryway and catch Jamie’s eyes. Gray and vivid like a summer storm. The hug they sank into was similar to the first, slow and hesitant, until they eventually melted into it, pulling each other close. Dani pressed her nose into the fabric of Jamie’s t-shirt, breathing in sandalwood intermingled with cigarette smoke as Jamie’s arms around her lower back and between her shoulder blades pressed tight, hands splayed across the fabric of Dani’s sweater. She could almost swear that the slow exhale Jamie let out trembled. Eventually, they pulled apart, clearing their throats.

“Thanks for having me again,” Dani murmured, wrapping her arms loosely around her stomach, finding the courage again to meet Jamie’s eyes.

“Any time,” Jamie replied, and then added, “I mean it.”

Dani couldn’t help the eagerness in her next words. “Next Sunday, then?”

Jamie smiled. “We’re all yours.”

Sundays become almost solely devoted to Jamie’s house. She continued to forgo Church, and while Eddie kept his word with making excuses for her as the weeks went on, Dani still couldn’t avoid the endless parade of questions every time she delved into town for errands or food. But still, she carried on. Not wanting to give up the peace her Sundays gave her; spending time in Jamie’s kitchen or the couch, watching Star Trek and sharing cups of tea that Jamie still refused to let her make.

And every time, it would end in that same hug. Faces buried into shoulders, and hands pressing tight, like they hadn’t seen in each other in years and not just one week. A decade of deprivation that left her hands aching to just keep holding Jamie for just a second longer. Making up for lost time, she told herself. Making up for ten years without hugs and shared smiles and just desperately missing her best friend.

Eddie stopped questioning Dani’s absences at Church by the second week, no longer perking up hopefully with the question of if she was attending this week, only to slump his shoulders when she told him no. He simply resigned himself with the corners of his mouth pulled tight and conceding to a thankful consolation kiss to his cheek. He always grinned after, happy to receive the affection.

And inevitably, Sundays weren’t the only days Dani saw Jamie and Mikey. There was now the occasional dinner at Judy’s where they’d find themselves all attending, where it seemed that Jamie and Mikey had already frequented unbeknownst to Dani. It was like no time had passed at all. Judy and Mike would ask them all about their week, and one by one they’d go around the table with their varying answers. It didn’t pass Dani by, the way Jamie softened under Judy’s proud smile whenever she talked about work at the botanical gardens or stories about Mikey. She’d even seem visibly pleased with herself at every admonishment from Judy whenever Jamie’s quips or teasing toed the line of insolence, sharing a cheeky grin with Dani over the table.

At one comment towards Eddie about the animated Lord of the Rings movie from years ago, Eddie had laughed but his mouth pulled into a thin smile as he speared a potato. “Just like old times.”

The only difference now to the occasional dinners was the new addition of Mikey, somehow even more quiet and shy at the table than Dani’s ever seen him. Particularly so under the attention of Judy who immediately took to him, his expression just short of panicking whenever he was brought under the center of attention. But Jamie was always there next to him, nudging him gently in the arm with a teasing word and grounding presence. And at the end of the night, Judy clutched at his cheeks the way she used to with Jamie, his eyes blinking in quiet bewilderment as they said their goodbyes.

“You get used to it,” Dani had murmured to him once.

Least surprising of all was the way Carson and Mikey immediately got along like a house on fire. Quiet as he was, Mikey was still bright eyed and eager when Carson dashed up to his room one evening after Mikey mentioned music, and brought down a shoebox of cassette tapes that he happily pushed into Mikey’s hands.

“You can borrow them as long as you want,” Carson had said, “I have a whole collection.”

While Mikey pawed reverently through the box’s contents, a smirking Jamie had swung her arm around Carson’s neck in a loose headlock, calling him a big softie and ignoring his groan of complaints.

And dinner at Judy’s wasn’t the only place she’d catch sight of Jamie.

One Sunday morning, dropping in at A Batter Place to pick up another surprise breakfast for the Taylor household, expecting the place to be void of customers busy attending Church, she jerked to a stop at the sight of Carson and Jamie standing by the counter, whispering wildly to each other.

At the sound of the bell, their heads spun towards Dani and they both smiled. Carson whispered something else to Jamie, and in response, she glowered and elbowed him hard in the ribs.

“Now, what are you two doing here?” Dani said, marching towards them with a grin, folding her arms across her chest as Carson rubbed at his ribs.

“Thought I could beat you to the punch today,” Jamie said gruffly, “But someone is persistent.”

“Gee, I wonder who that could be,” Dani said, smirking. She turned to Carson who she now noticed was busy eating some kind of cake. “And what about you? Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

“Shift change,” Carson said, his mouth full.

Jamie made a face. “Gross, mate.”

“You wish you had some of this,” Carson said, dancing a fork with dark chocolate cake pierced on the end in front of Jamie’s face before popping it into his mouth, smirking.

“Had enough yesterday at dinner.”

“Because you stole some from me.”

Jamie pursed her lips and shook her head. “Y'know what? I think you may have a problem.”

Glowering, Carson hovered protectively over his plate. Dani laughed. “Okay, what is going on with you two?”

Jamie jerked her thumb towards the kitchens. “Sharma back there needed a taste tester for a new cake he made. Carson and I happily signed up for the task, and what does this prat do?” She gestured towards a sheepish Carson. “He steals my share. So I took some back.”

Carson opened his mouth to complain, but suddenly a voice from the kitchen called out.

“Did someone say my name?”

A moment later, Owen appeared, smiling when he caught sight of Dani. “Oh, Miss Clayton, how do you do?”

“Mr. Sharma,” Dani replied, “I’m doing perfectly. And you?”

“Christ, you two have been getting on, have you,” Jamie muttered, though she was grinning. “He doesn’t let me call him Mr. Sharma.”

“Oh, Jamie,” Owen said, ruefully shaking his head, “You need to reach level five on the friendship scale for that achievement. You’re still only on level three. Pick up the pace.”

Jamie grumbled under her breath as Dani laughed. Carson, however, was mysteriously silent, leaning his elbow steadily against the counter, a corner of his mouth quirked as he stared at Owen. Dani shot him a puzzled look that he didn’t notice.

Owen meanwhile was looking at Dani. “So, what can I get you?” he asked, “The usual?”

“Afraid this one has already beaten me to it today I think,” Dani said, gesturing to Jamie.

“Ah, yes she has,” he said, and dropped a takeout bag on the counter he had been holding, as if only now just remembering. “Here you are, Miss Taylor.”

“Piss off,” Jamie said, grinning and sliding the bag closer.

“But I’d also like four hot chocolates to go, please,” Dani added, smiling cheekily at Jamie’s glare.

“Lovely choice. I’ll get right on that as soon as I get a verdict from these two,” Owen said, looking between the pair, “Well? How’d you find the cake today?”

“Wouldn’t bloody know,” Jamie muttered.

“No idea how you do it, Owen,” Carson said with keen enthusiasm, “Never had cake that moist before. Think I’m addicted.”

Jamie snorted as Owen’s mouth stretched into a humble smile, and then he leaned his elbows on the counter with a conspiratory look. Carson followed his example and leaned a tad closer. “You know, I knew a man once who was addicted to the hokey pokey.”

Groaning, Jamie rubbed at her forehead. “Christ.”

Dani bit her lip hard, a laugh threatening to burst out of her. She shared a look with Jamie as Carson blinked. “The...hokey pokey.”

Humming in confirmation, Owen nodded earnestly. “But he turned himself around, and really, isn’t that just what it’s all about?”

When Carson laughed and Dani couldn’t stop the chuckle escaping from her pressed lips, Jamie gave Owen a dry look. “Do you ever hear yourself speak?” she asked, “Is that why you left England? They chuck you out in shame?”

Owen pressed a hand to his chest. “I am the paragon of charm, thank you very much.”

“Or, it could just be that rubbish southern accent keeping you afloat.”

When Owen chuckled, Carson perked up. “You know, I’ve been wondering about that,” he said, gesturing between Jamie and Owen. “Two Brits in North Liberty. I get the gist of why Jamie’s here, but what brought you to our extremely boring and tiny town?”

“Guess you could say I needed a change in scenery,” Owen said, and gestured around the room. “Brought a little bit of Paris with me too. Show you Americans how it’s really done. Not the place I had in mind at first, but to put it briefly into words, I figured it’d be an interesting challenge. An extended layover, if you will.”

Carson nodded. “Yeah, that’s interesting.”

When Jamie snickered again, Carson surreptitiously kicked her in the ankle. Jamie didn’t even flinch.

“You’re not the only two,” Dani said.

Jamie frowned. “We aren’t?”

“My boss. Hannah Grose. She’s also English.”

There was a brief pause before Jamie turned to Owen. “I’m telling you, mate,” she said, “There’s something in the water here. Attracts us like flies.”

“Or like gravity,” Owen replied with faux solemnity. Ignoring the roll of Jamie’s eyes, his expression turned thoughtful. “What does she look like, if you mind me asking?”

“Um, shaved head. Black. Incredible fashion sense,” Dani said, “Most put together woman I’ve ever met.”

Owen visibly wracked his brain, and eventually shook his head. “‘Fraid I’ve never seen such a woman,” he said, and added, “Pretty sure I’d remember.” Owen then straightened and tapped the counter. “Anyways, I should be getting your hot chocolates, Dani. Won’t be but a minute. And you two, I offer my thanks for testing my creations.”

“Any time,” Carson said, his shoulders slightly slumped, handing over his empty plate and fork as Jamie saluted.

Owen nodded at them with a smile and retreated towards the kitchen. When he was gone, Carson spun to them both. “Okay, you have to get me a job here.” At Jamie’s laugh, he groaned. “Come on. Do you know how long I’ve been a line cook down at Big Bill’s? I’ve been smelling like grease everyday for years, I need a change in scenery. I need — “ he gestured widely “ — an opportunity to grow!”

“Uh huh. Sure. Opportunity,” Jamie smirked, “Let’s go with that.”

Carson shot her a dirty look. “You’re his friend!”

“It’s truy encouraging to know that you think I have that amount of influence,” Jamie said.

“He really has been working there forever,” Dani offered, grinning affectionately when Carson waved an arm towards Dani in a 'You see!' gesture.

Jamie sighed. “All right,” she finally said, “I’ll mention it, but no promises.”

His face brightened into a wide smile, his expression slowly pulling into one knowing he was pushing his luck. “And you’ll come to our next show? We play every few weeks down in Des Moines.”

Jamie gave him a long look, shaking her head affectionately at his eagerness. “I’ll do my best. I’m sure your mum would love to watch Mikey for the night,” she said, and chuckled, “Who knew tiny Carson would grow up to be a big time drummer.”

“Mom still blames you for that actually,” Carson teased, “All that practicing drove her crazy. Said all that music you used to play had too much of an influence.”

Jamie laughed. “That's fair.”

Bouncing on his feet, Carson then turned his hopeful eyes to Dani, and immediately she felt her stomach sink. As if sensing this, Carson’s smile dimmed. “Come on,” he urged, sinking his hand in his pockets, “You don’t even have to bring him along if Jamie’s coming.”

Dani swallowed heavily, pushing down the strained nerves of being caught between asking Eddie once again to accompany her to Carson’s show, and leaving Eddie behind, in preference towards Jamie’s company. She could feel Jamie's eyes on her, watching carefully.

She forced her mouth into a faint smile. “I’ll ask him again, but I make no promises.”

Sighing, Carson softened and gave her a knowing kind smile. “Well, it’s better than a flat out no.”

“I think you know by now I can’t give you a flat out no,” Dani said.

He chuckled and nodded, stepping closer to wrap an arm around her shoulder and pull her close. “Don’t tell anyone, but you’re my favorite,” he whisper-shouted. Dani laughed and leaned into him, feeling his hand gently rub her shoulder.

“Guess I’m just invisible now, huh? That's how it is?” Jamie said, arms crossed but visibly amused.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Carson said, shrugging against his leather jacket.

“Oh, sure,” Jamie drawled, “And this has nothing to do with buttering up to her at all.”

“Or maybe, it’s her birthday soon, and she deserves to hear it.”

Dani felt her cheeks heat up. Seeing this, Jamie laughed, eyes warm. “Fair point.”

Before Dani could find the words to respond, blinking at Jamie, Owen returned with a cardboard tray of Dani’s hot chocolates. The same takeout cups that Carson had brought on her last moving day. She smiled with the memory.

She pulled a cup from the tray and offered it to Carson. “For you.”

The look he gave her was so fond, it did nothing to help the twinge of guilt in her chest. “You’re too good to me,” he said. She shrugged shyly in response.

Carson took his leave after that, leaving with a wave to Owen and a kiss to Dani’s head, neatly dodging away from Jamie’s hand threatening to ruin his hair, laughing as he went.

Both Dani and Jamie paid for their respective takeout, and as Jamie started towards the door with a departing salute, Owen held Dani back and slid a small container towards her. “On the house,” he said and winked, peaking open the container just enough to see a large piece of the same cake Carson had been eating. “Figured if those hooligans got to have some, it wouldn't be fair to let you miss out on all the fun.”

She smiled gratefully at him. “Thank you, you really didn’t have to.”

“Any friend of Jamie’s is a friend of mine,” he said, a glint appearing in his eyes, “Besides, I doughnut take my taste testing lightly. More test subjects means butter results.”

It took Dani a moment to hear it, but at Jamie’s loud groan a few feet behind her, the puns became clear as day.

“Would you give it up, mate?” Jamie said as Dani laughed.

“Give what up?” Owen replied, looking so earnest that Dani would think he was serious if it weren’t for the twitch of his mustache.

With another laugh and thank you to Owen, she followed Jamie outside who immediately traced her eyes to the container Dani held. “You’re sharing, right?”

“Obviously,” Dani said, taking great delight in seeing the light dim in Jamie’s eyes when she added, “Only fair to give Mikey half.”

Jamie huffed, and eventually grinned. “Race you home?”

Taking a quick glance towards the streets, a near ghost town if it weren’t for the occasional car passing by or pedestrian walking in the distance.

“Try not to kill anyone,” Dani said, already taking off towards her car, grinning as she heard Jamie laugh behind her.

Mikey wasn't at school on Thursday. At the head of the class, Dani faltered over his name during attendance, expecting his hand to lift from the back of the room, for his voice to sing out in a mumbling "Here." Instead, she frowned at his empty seat, shrugged, and continued down the list. Probably sick, she told herself. Probably none of her business. Even if she spent nearly every Sunday over at his house. Even if he and his older sister had become regular additions to her life again. Even if he had finally taken to calling her "Dani" when he was away from campus, carefully, as though she might change her mind and demand that everything return to the days of "Miss Clayton."

She shrugged it off. And when he arrived at school the next morning, she greeted him with a smile from her desk. "Hey, Mikey! Were you sick yesterday?"

He kept his gaze fixed on his feet and hurried past her without anything more than a mumbled, "Morning, Miss Clayton."

Blinking in confusion, Dani stared after him. He slouched down in his seat further than usual, shoulders hunched, hands gripping the edge of his desk as though it was the only thing keeping him afloat. She couldn't say anything. There were too many other students around. Now was not the time or the place. And she wasn't sure if any time or place would ever be appropriate.

None of her business, she thought with a furtive little shake of her head. She cleared her throat and pushed herself to her feet to begin roll call.

Each kid had their own particular nuance. Most grew bored the longer class went on. Others fidgeted restlessly and needed constant diversionary tactics to hold their attention. Others — more rare cases like Mikey — relaxed. They opened up, participating more freely as class went on. She could always count on a few students to raise their hand and answer questions, and Mikey was one such student.

Normally. Not today. Today, he skulked at the back of the class, gaze darting to the window anxiously every now and then as if half expecting someone to roll up to the school and stalk out of their vehicle towards the front steps.

"Mikey," she said.

His head jerked around, eyes wide.

Dani tapped at the equation she had written on the blackboard with a bit of chalk. "Can you solve this one for me, please?"

"Abigail knows the answer," he said, pointing to a girl in the front row who was all but leaning out of her seat with her hand raised, trying to get Dani's attention so she would call on her.

"I know Abigail knows the answer," Dani said. "But I would like you to answer it. Come on. Please."

When Dani held out the piece of chalk in his direction, Mikey sank down in his seat a few more inches. Then with a resigned sigh he scraped his chair back and trudged to the front of the class. Taking the chalk, Mikey glanced at the equation and solved it without either a word or a hint of hesitation. Not looking in Dani's direction, he placed the chalk on the ledge at the base of the blackboard and walked back to his seat.

"Thank you," said Dani.

Mikey did not reply. He just went right back to what he'd been doing before. Dani's mouth pursed, but she continued with class as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. And at the end of the day, Mikey scurried out the door, pressing himself in between a few other students so that Dani could not notice his escape.

Maybe if there were fewer students. Maybe then she could reach them. Maybe then it would be easier.

When Sunday rolled around, Dani stood on Jamie's porch and knocked on the front door. After a minute of waiting, she could just make out the shape of someone approaching through the fan of glass at the top of the door. The sound of a chain being undone, the tumble of a lock, and then the knob twisted and the door opened to reveal Jamie in a band t-shirt tucked into a pair of jeans.

"Hi!" Dani said with a cheery wave.

Jamie had already turned away and was walking further back into the house. "C'mon in," she said.

Hesitating a moment at the chilly greeting, Dani stepped inside. She shut the door behind her and slipped off her flats, arranging her shoes so that they were lined up neatly by the door. The house — usually so full of life — was eerily quiet. No music. No vacuum. No open windows to admit the morning breeze. No Mikey.

"Is -" Dani ventured further inside after Jamie, "- everything all right?"

"Right as rain," Jamie said. She was digging through a kitchen drawer dedicated to junk and tchotchkes. "Didn't I give you a key already?"

"Uh - No?" Dani said, her voice inflecting upwards in confusion.

"Could've sworn I gave you a key," Jamie muttered, her words low enough that they were nearly indistinguishable over the clatter of her hands rummaging through the drawer.

"I don't think it would have made much of a difference with the chain in place," said Dani, gesturing over her shoulder towards the door.

"Here," Jamie straightened with a spare key in hand, holding it out towards Dani without looking at her. "Just let yourself in through the back next time."

Slowly, Dani took the key. It was a flash of warm silver in her fingers. "Thanks," she said warily. As she dug through her purse for the cluster of keys attached to the end of her teacher's lanyard, Dani asked, "Is - uh - Is Mikey sick again?"

For some reason that simple inquiry made Jamie stiffen. "Nope," she said, and without another word turned and began pulling out a frying pan from a cupboard.

"Oh. Right." Dani watched her. She put the key on its own ring and then fiddled with the end of her lanyard, leaning her hip against the island countertop between the kitchen and the cramped dining room. "It's just, I noticed he wasn't at school on Thursday, and I assumed."

Jamie slammed the pan atop the stovetop and twisted a knob until the coil burned ruby-bright. She moved to the fridge and yanked it open. "You want eggs?" she asked, and pulled out a carton of eggs without waiting for Dani's reply.

"Eggs sound good," Dani said. Her brow furrowed. She tossed her keys back into her bag, then set it on the ground at her feet so that it leaned against the island. Jamie was still moving about the kitchen, her actions short and sharp as a honed pocket knife. Carefully, Dani approached her and gently placed her hands on Jamie's tense shoulders so she could turn her around. "Hey. Jamie. Look at me."

Jamie allowed herself to be turned, gripping a plastic spatula like it was a sword and she wanted to ram it through someone's stomach. When she finally looked at Dani, her iron-colored eyes were as unyielding as the line of her jaw.

"Did I do something?" Dani asked. "Do you want me to go?"

Jamie's gaze softened somewhat, and her throat flexed as she swallowed. She shook her head and let out a huff of joyless laughter. "No. No, you didn't do anything."

"Are you sure? Because I can -?"

"It's not -" Jamie inhaled deeply, and though the tension unspooled slightly from her shoulders, she was still coiled tight as a spring. "Stay. Please. It's nice having you around on my day off."

Dani let her hands slide down Jamie's arms, resting at her elbows, where she fluttered her fingertips against the rolled up flannel sleeves there. "All right," she said with a smile. "Then let me at least make you a pot of tea. You look like you need it."

Jamie brandished the spatula under her nose with faux solemnity. "Don't botch it."

Dani's smile turned into a teasing grin. "I make no promises."

Even so, she did not immediately move away and Jamie seemed content to stand there looking at her with an odd expression on her face — as if caught between fondness and something else Dani couldn't quite place. After a beat, Dani let go and stepped away. As she turned to fill the kettle in the sink, she heard Jamie open the carton of eggs.

"Long week?" Dani asked. She came up beside Jamie to set the kettle down on a spare slot on the stove, while Jamie automatically turned the appropriate dial to max so the water could boil.

"You don't know the half of it," Jamie said, cracking an egg into the pan.

"Want to tell me about it?" Dani asked. For a moment she thought Jamie would demur. There was the sound behind her of more eggs cracking and the sound of the garbage opening and closing with a creak as Jamie chucked the shells away with a barely self-contained fury. And then -

“You’d think the botanical gardens would be a nice and quiet place to work. But no,” Jamie wrenched at a pepper grinder as though trying to take its head off. “You know how we do events and stuff, yeah? Birthdays. Weddings. The works.”

Dani made a noise of affirmation as she scooped tea leaves into a large tea pot.

“Well, we’re doing this corporate event, right?” Jamie continued. “And I shit you not, I have never dealt with people more fucking irritating. If I have to hear about how the hydrangeas aren’t quite the right shade of purple one more time -” And rather than vocalize her threats, she stirred the eggs far more vigorously than necessary, and growled, “Dickheads.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Worse,” said Jamie darkly. “Some absolute knob came ‘round and hacked off the heads of a whole row of roses, and then I get my ear chewed off like it was my fault. What do they expect me to do? Grow them again overnight? Fuck’s sake.”

The earthenware teapot radiated heat like a pot bellied stove. Dani slowly turned it in place as she’d been taught by Nan all those years ago, wondering as a child if it was called ‘brew’ because of some mystic quality forever beyond her reach. “Do you have any other plants you could put in boxes around them? Try to cover up the damage, at least?”

Jamie waved the spatula without looking over. “Already done. Doesn’t hide much, though. And people like this — well, they’re always looking for something to be sour about.”

“Yeah,” Dani murmured. “Yeah, I know the type."

Always people watching, waiting. This town was too small for its own good. Too few people with too few hobbies and far too much time on their hands. Gossip wasn’t so much a staple as it was a means of survival. Dani had only ever scraped by on eavesdropping. She was caught up with current events, but never partook if she could avoid it. Never sat right with her, talking behind peoples’ backs. Not when she had her own secrets. Not when a single whisper and a pair of loose lips could play havoc so easily with her own life.

When Dani opened a cupboard to grab a few mugs, Jamie’s eyes darted towards her. “Hasn’t steeped long enough. Give it a minute.”

Dani checked her wristwatch. “It’s been three.”

“And you always have a tendency to not put enough leaves in the pot,” Jamie said with a grin. “Another minute. Why don’t you start on toast.”

“Buttering up was always your forte though,” Dani said as she grabbed a half-finished loaf from the counter and untied the plastic wrap.

Jamie snorted. “Rubbish.

Smiling, Dani pulled out a few slices. It was terrifyingly easy, falling back into a routine with Jamie. They moved around one another in the kitchen as though with a sixth sense for the other’s whereabouts at all times. Dani was hyper aware of Jamie’s location in a way she never was with anyone else. Around her mother it was a keen-eared alertness and walking on eggshells. Around Eddie it was shrinking, making herself smaller to accommodate the space he filled. Even around Judy, it was smiles and softness, forced eagerness and a desire to please engrained so deep she could feel the grooves in her face at the end of a day. Here and now, in Jamie’s warm and worn kitchen, Dani could reach for a pat of butter without airs. Surreal, somehow, that even so simple an act would normally require a measure of her due diligence. Waiting for the toaster to pop and fiddling with a blunt knife, secure in the knowledge — the absolute certainty — that she could simply exist.

“Do you think this is enough eggs?” Jamie asked. She was holding open the refrigerator door and leaning her weight upon it, while she bent over to reach for another cardboard carton. “I have more.”

“That’s plenty,” Dani assured her. "Can I finally pour this now?"

Shutting the fridge, Jamie wandered over with narrowed eyes, as if suspicious. "I dunno. Let me see."

Dani leaned her hip against the countertop and watched as Jamie poured herself a small splash of tea into a mug, testing the color and then swirling the tea before tasting as though she were in a wine tasting competition. Dani rolled her eyes.

"Do you detect hints of cherry and oak in your warm leaf water?" Dani asked.

Jamie hummed a thoughtful note, then lowered the mug. "It's palatable."

"Well, aren't you a charmer," Dani drawled.

"What do you mean? That was a soaring compliment for you."

With a snort of laughter, Dani pushed away from the counter and began pulling out plates to set the table. "God, you're impossible. Go get Mikey. We're ready to eat."

Silence. When Dani turned around, holding three plates, Jamie had gone still. The smile had slipped from her face, and her expression was rigid, her eyes unyielding as hardstone. Dani's fingers curled around the edges of the plates. She opened her mouth to say something, but Jamie just shook her head and said tersely, "Yeah. No, I'll get him."

Jamie passed her without a second glance to spare, storming from the kitchen and up the stairs. Dani blinked after her in confusion. Her brow furrowed, but she walked slowly towards the cramped dining table and set down plates. She was fishing forks and knives from a drawer in the kitchen, when she heard raised voices through the ceiling above. Going still, Dani's eyes darted in that direction. Quietly, she thanked God that the walls here were thick enough that she couldn't hear the exact words being spoken.

By the time Jamie and Mikey emerged, Dani had already set everything out on the table — buttered toast piled atop a small plate, the pan of eggs resting on an oven mitt, the teapot's spout faintly steaming beside a bottle of cold milk from the fridge. Jamie walked in first, Mikey trailing not far behind. Dani caught Jamie's eye only briefly before Jamie sat in her usual seat beside her. Mikey on the other hand trudged over, still dressed in pajamas, gaze downcast and face twisted in a scowl. He yanked back his chair and dropped into it hard enough that the cutlery rattled slightly.

Dani reached for a piece of toast and braved the tense atmosphere. "Good morning."

Mikey sank a little in his seat, but said nothing, his hands hidden beneath the table.

Across from him, Jamie kicked the leg of his chair so that it squeaked against the tile. "Hey," she said sharply. "Don't be a prick."

Jaw squaring at a stubborn angle — one which Dani knew all too well — Mikey cast a glower at his sister. Then, reluctantly, he grumbled, "Morning."

Dani chewed at a bite of toast, feeling like she had just been pushed into no man's land, trapped between two firing squads. Jamie ate with a single-minded viciousness, putting away food at an alarming rate. Shovels of scrambled egg into her mouth and teeth ripping savage hunks from toast, all washed down with gulps of tea. On the other side of the table, Mikey picked sullenly at his plate, pushing food around in an attempt to create the visual illusion that he had eaten something. Neither of them glanced up from their plates. Looking at the two of them — their hunched shoulders and slouched postures, their dark curly hair, their tightly held jawlines and hard glowers — Dani could not recall them ever looking more alike than in this moment.

Clearing her throat, Dani said softly, "Jamie, can you pass the milk, please?"

The air of the dining room was palpable. Dani felt like she could slice through it with a butter knife. Without a word, Jamie picked up the milk and placed it on the table nearer to Dani.

"Thank you," Dani murmured.

She poured milk into her cup of tea until it was pale enough to make Nan roll in her grave. When she took a sip, the sound seemed loud enough to drown out the only other noise of their forks across ceramic. For a long moment, Dani just looked between the two of them, as if daring one — just one of them — to lift their heads. Neither of them did.

Dani set down her cup of tea. “Okay,” she said. “What is going on?”

Jamie shrugged and took another bite, refusing to look at either of them. “Don’t know what you mean.”

"Well, I was really hoping to have a nice time. Maybe catch up on some more Star Trek.”

Mikey's face lit up, but Jamie said darkly, "No."

"But -!" Mikey started to protest.

Jamie slammed down her knife and fork, and when she looked up her expression was a picture of bridled fury. "No.”

Dani sat there silently, watching the two of them glare at one another until, without another word passing between them, Mikey shoved his plate away, stood, and stormed off upstairs back to his room. Jamie did not follow him. She remained tense, glowering at his empty seat.

Dani waited until she heard the slam of a door upstairs, then turned to Jamie. “Okay. Really,” she said. “Tell me.”

Jamie picked up her fork again and started stabbing a poor undeserving piece of toast full of holes, not meeting Dani’s eye. "Little shite," she growled. "Skipped class this week. Lied and said he was sick, and then who do I see down by the old tracks? Him and some mates faffing about."

Leaning back in her seat, Dani drew her lower lip between her teeth. "Ah," she said in understanding. When Jamie merely grunted a wordless reply, Dani sat forward once more and said, "It's one class. It's not that big a deal. Besides, he's smart. He'll catch up on the material."

Jamie's brows drew together in a sharp scowl. "One class is how it starts. I know. Trust me."

"You never missed much class when we were that age."

"No," said Jamie. "But I missed plenty after I -" She swallowed and made a sharp gesture with her fork. "After. More than I care to admit. Didn't do me any good, either. Wish I could go back and knock myself over the head for being a twat, but such is life."

It was an abrupt reminder of just how much of Jamie's life she had missed, and how she was merely coming along after, picking up fragments. Dani fidgeted with the napkin in her lap and said, "Well, I think you've turned out just fine."

Jamie smiled, but it was that bitter self-deprecating smile from the alleyway beside the pharmacy. She shook her head at her plate, still not glancing up to look at Dani. "He needs to attend class. I won't have this. I can't afford it, and neither can he. You think the system is so forgiving? Oh, sure. Other kids can play truant here or there, but for kids like us -" Jamie made a jerky motion towards herself and then towards the ceiling, "- it's not just harmless fun. It's a pattern of behavior. And they notice."

"You know what? You're right. You're right." Dani reached out and gently grasped Jamie's hand which was white-knuckled around her fork. "But I think they'll also notice if you stab your little brother with cutlery."

Jamie gave a huff of laughter. She did not shrug Dani away or go tense. Instead Dani could feel the slackening of muscle and tendon beneath her hands as Jamie loosened her death grip. "Yeah, I reckon they just might."

Dani rocked Jamie's hand against the table, so that Jamie finally looked up at her. With a small smile, Dani said, "You should talk to him. I know it's uncomfortable and hard, and it sucks -" Jamie snorted, and Dani continued, "- but did yelling at you ever work?"

"Christ, no. Never."

"You see? And if he's half as resourceful as you were as a kid — which, let's be honest, was pretty darn resourceful — then just grounding him isn't going to stick either. You're going to need to talk this one out."

Jamie groaned and leaned back in her chair, the movement making it so that her hand slid out from beneath Dani's. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back so that she faced the ceiling. "Fuck," Jamie breathed. "You sound like my therapist."

Dani withdrew her hand into her lap. "You have a therapist?"

"Had," Jamie corrected her. "I had a therapist. Not because I wanted one, mind you. They assigned Tamara to me."

"I didn't know child protection offered that kind of service."

"They don't," Jamie said. When Dani cocked her head in confusion, she sighed then brought her chin back down again. “It was in prison.”

Dani blinked. “Right,” she said. She had almost forgotten that Jamie had mentioned she had served time over in England. Just another piece of Jamie’s life that she had missed. “Of course. Sorry.”

Jamie seemed not to have heard. Her knee was jumping nervously beneath the table. Dani had to resist the urge to reach down and place a soothing hand on her thigh. A hug or a quick clasp of hands was one thing, but that — for whatever reason — felt like a step too far. Maybe another time. Maybe when they were younger, and they were accustomed to pressing close to each other as they slept. But not here. Not now.

“I just want to do this right,” Jamie said.

"You are," Dani said. "You’re doing great. I've seen bad parenting before. And I'm not just talking about in my own home."

Jamie gave her a wry grin. “No offense, but that’s a low bar even for me.”

“You’d be surprised,” Dani said dryly. “Let’s just say: some people from our school days should have thought twice before having kids.”

That earned her a chuckle, short-lived though it was. "I shudder to think of some of them reproducing.” Jamie gave a theatrical little shudder. When Dani made a face, Jamie said, "Not like that. Mind out of the gutter, Poppins."

"That's -! You were the one who said it that way!" Dani admonished.

"I -" Jamie placed a hand over her sternum as though clutching at invisible pearls "- was completely innocent, thank you very much. You, on the other hand -"

Dani pointed at her sternly. "Do not. I'm still getting over the image in my head."

"Naughty." Jamie smirked. "Care to share with the class?"

Lifting an eyebrow, Dani gave her a brook-no-nonsense stare. "I know you're trying to deflect by making dirty jokes. It won't work."

"Yeah, yeah," Jamie sighed. She grimaced at the stairs. "Suppose I should man up, then."

Dani wrinkled her nose. "I never liked that phrase."

"Do you have an alternative?"

"Gird your loins?" Dani offered.

Jamie’s answering grin was positively rakish. "You make this too easy, you know.”

Picking up her napkin from her lap, Dani smacked Jamie’s shoulder with it. “Stop that! It’s just an expression.”

Jamie laughed softly, pretending to flinch back from the napkin. “Yeah, well, keep my loins out of it."

“You’re impossible,” Dani said, and though she tried to sound firm she couldn’t stop her mouth from curling at the corners in a smile. She set her napkin atop her plate and stood to start collecting their plates. “Now, go. Talk. I’ll clean up down here.”

Dutifully, Jamie scraped back her chair and pushed herself to her feet. “Right. Time to face the music,” she said, then she snapped her fingers and pointed at Dani. “You see? An alternative that doesn’t involve my loins.”

“Oh, my God. Go.”

With one last parting smirk, Jamie walked towards the stairs, the sound of her footsteps dwindling with every step she climbed, until Dani could only hear the creak of the ceiling beneath Jamie’s weight overhead. She cleared the table, setting everything down on the cramped kitchen countertops, where she began opening cupboards in search of any tupperware to save the bulk of the food for a later meal. When she heard a knock upstairs and the sound of soft voices, Dani went still. She glanced around the kitchen and, holding a few tupperware lids in one hand, strode over to the radio resting beside one of the many potted plants.

A push of a button and a quick dial to a trendy pop station, and the kitchen was filled with the sound of the latest Top 100 track. Dani turned up the music slightly until she could no longer hear what was going on upstairs. Humming along idly, she rounded the kitchen island and picked up where she left off.

On Monday morning, Dani set a plastic container in front of Hannah. Blinking in surprise and leaning back in her seat, Hannah glanced at the lemon square then up at Dani, her face relaxing into a warm smile. "Well, good morning to you, too," she said. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Miss Clayton?"

With a shrug, Dani took the seat opposite her. They were in the staff room at school, and the start of classes that week were still a good hour away. "No reason," said Dani. She set her bag down on the floor beside her. "I was just thinking about you yesterday when I was at the cafe, and thought I should bring you something."

"You're far too kind. Really." Hannah opened the container. "Oh, and it's lemon. You know me too well. That or you want a pay rise. I hear you have a mortgage again."

Dani laughed. "No. Selling the old house took care of most of that. And Eddie's new job. You know." She waved her hand in a flighty little gesture. "Sometimes I just like making other people happy, is all."

"Sometimes, she says." Hannah lifted her eyebrow but her voice was teasing. "Don't forget about yourself, dear."

The smile on Dani's face felt suddenly frozen in place. She shook an odd twinge in her gut away and watched as Hannah picked up the slice for a bite. Hannah made a wordless noise in the back of her throat, covering her mouth with her free hand while she chewed.

"Oh, that's divine," said Hannah, discreetly wiping at a crumb stuck to the corner of her mouth. "Where did you get this?"

"New cafe in town. It’s called: A Batter Place."

Hannah wrinkled her nose.

"Yeah, I know. It's a terrible pun," Dani said. "But the chef there is excellent, and very sweet."

"Well, I might just have to pay it a visit. Bad puns or no." Hannah took another bite of the slice and closed her eyes. "Mmm. It's how tart it is. You would think living for the last six years in America that I'd be used to the amount of sugar you put in everything."

With a shrug, Dani said, "So, tell me about your weekend. Get up to anything fun?"

And it was easy as that. Talking aimlessly. Chatting about nothing and everything. North Liberty was small, but she and Hannah lived in different circles, their lives only ever intersecting at work. It was a rare occasion, running into her boss on the street. Hannah lived in another town over and commuted every day. Hannah was in a different denomination and attended a different church. Hannah disavowed malicious gossip and avoided it when possible. Hannah spoke in clipped British tones, but her words were as warm as her eyes. Talking to her was a breath of fresh air in a place where nobody ever ventured further than the next state over, if that.

The door to the staff room opened and a man walked in, but neither of them took any notice. Hannah had long since finished her slice and pushed the empty container into the center of the table between them. When the man ventured further into the room, looking around as if lost, Dani's eyes flitted towards him. She did a double take. She vaguely recognized him as someone who worked at the botanical gardens — was his name Leo? Leonard? — and in his arms he carried a bouquet of flowers.

Hannah lowered her voice and murmured, "Who's the lucky punter?"

Dani shook her head, the two of them watching him search the room. "No idea."

He had started to garner the attention of a few other teachers and staff members, who were politely waiting for him to approach someone and deliver them flowers. He cleared his throat and asked the room at large, "Excuse me. Is there a Dani Clayton here?"

Dani blinked. She went very still, gaze darting towards Hannah, whose eyes had widened.

"Looks like they're for you, love," said Hannah with a grin.

"But I -"

Whatever Dani had started to say died on her tongue, as Hannah lifted her hand and gestured for him to approach their table. "She's right here. Thank you." Hannah pointed towards her.

Dani straightened in her seat, staring at the bundle of flowers that was placed on the table in front of her. She had to quickly dart forward and move the empty container. He dug around in his pocket and handed over a small folded card as well to go along with it.

"For you," he said.

In utter bewilderment, Dani took the card. "Thank you," she said, slightly dazed. With a nod and a brief smile, he left. Dani was still staring after him long after the door had shut.

Across the table, Hannah clucked her tongue. "Well, well," she said, sounding amused. She gave Dani a significant look over the top of the flowers. "Guess you're the lucky one, after all."

"I guess," Dani breathed. She toyed with the card for a moment, turning it over between her fingers to see if there were any distinguishing marks on the outside. Finding none, she unfolded it.

'Thanks for the help this weekend,' it read. 'And sorry for being an arse.'

Despite the lack of a name, Jamie's messy scrawl was unforgettable. Dani would've recognized it anywhere. She didn't realize she was smiling down at the card until Hannah cleared her throat. Then, Dani jerked, looking up to find Hannah watching her with a warm gaze.

"And here you were telling me you'd had a perfectly unremarkable weekend," Hannah teased.

"Well, I -" Dani fumbled over her response, hastily folding the card back up and fiddling with it in her lap. "I did."

"That man of yours is a fine catch," said Hannah, nodding towards the flowers.

Dani hesitated. The corner of her mouth twitched and she ducked her head, trying to hide it with a nervous smile. "Yeah," she said, feeling breathless. "Yeah, he - um. He's very thoughtful."

The lie came far more easily to her than she would have thought possible. And even worse, she did not know exactly why she said it at all. Only that correcting Hannah didn’t feel right, that telling her it was someone else — even just a friend like Jamie — would arouse some sort of suspicion. Even if Hannah wasn’t the type. Even if Hannah would not care. Because Hannah wasn’t the only one in the room, and Hannah wasn’t the only one watching.

Which was silly, really. The flowers weren’t a bunch of red roses or anything romantic. If anything, Dani could recall Jamie grousing about these exact same purple hydrangeas over brunch the day before. It was a thank you. A friendly gesture like all their other friendly gestures. Sitting close enough on the couch so that their thighs pressed together. Grazing their fingertips while passing an item across the dining table. Hugging one another with every goodbye. Dani could do the same with anyone, and it would be no different.

Wouldn't it?

Dani tried to imagine hugging Hannah goodbye, tried to imagine a lingering hand on Hannah's elbow as they walked down the hall. She blinked and had to clear her throat, checking her watch to hide the flush on her face.

"I'd better get the classroom ready," she said. When she rose to her feet, Hannah did the same.

"Do you need a hand?" Hannah asked, gesturing towards the flowers.

"Oh. No, it's - I've got them." Dani slung her bag over one shoulder, then picked up the flowers. She edged around the table, giving Hannah a smile so fleeting it felt more like a muscle tick in her cheek. "I'll talk to you later."

Hannah gave her an odd look, but all she said was, "Of course. I'll pop round this afternoon. I'd like to go over the parent teacher talks and the upcoming library visit."

"Sounds good," Dani said, not actually listening. She was already halfway towards the door, rearranging the flowers so that she could prop them against her hip and still open the door leading out into the hallway. Out here, the calm bastion of the staff room was replaced by the cacophony of students arriving after a whole weekend to regain their full stamina. Their sneakers squeaked against the polish flooring. Immediately upon exiting, Dani had to press herself back against the shut door behind her and lift the flowers as two boys went racing by.

"Slow down, please!" she called after them. Both of them did as instructed, but only until she turned and began walking in the opposite direction down the hall, at which point she could hear them laugh and continue on as they had before. Through the windows outside, Dani could see cars pulling up to the curb and kids spilling out onto the lawn. A thin line of students were careening from the town's only school bus, the driver making sharp gestures with his hands when someone got too eager and took to shoving.

Dani's footsteps slowed to a halt when she saw a familiar green truck putter along, its tray holding something bulky strapped down and covered in tarpaulin. She did not have to look closely to recognise those silhouettes through the glass. She watched as Jamie gave Mikey's shoulder a playful push and he staggered out of the vehicle, shrugging his backpack over one shoulder and rolling his eyes. A far cry from the body language of yesterday. He paused, turning back when Jamie shouted something after him so that he could catch a bagged lunch tossed through the truck window. Then with a wave Mikey trotted towards the main entrance, brown paper bag clutched in one hand.

There was no way Jamie could have seen inside and known that she was looking out at her. Even so, Dani had to swallow down a strange sense of unease turning her stomach. She shifted her grip upon the flowers and continued towards her classroom, her footsteps quick and clipped against the floor.

The classroom was still empty when she arrived. Her students would take another ten minutes or so before they started trickling in. For a long, breathless moment Dani stood in the doorway, her eyes scanning the room for a place to set down the flowers. On her desk they would be too apparent throughout the day, blocking her direct view of some of the kids in the front row. Wandering forward Dani approached the windows, setting the flowers down on the sill. Her hands drifted towards the coronal burst of wine-dark petals, and she found it difficult to stop fussing with the arrangement until the mid morning sunlight hit them just so. The arrival of her first students prompted Dani to take a hasty step back, lowering her hands to her sides and walking briskly back to her desk to finish setting up for the day.

Even as she greeted a few of the kids good morning and pulled out her notes for the day's lessons, Dani found her gaze drifting back towards the windowsill. She frowned and shook her head, muttering to herself under her breath, "Get it together, Dani."

"Good morning, Miss Clayton."

Dani's head jerked up at the sound of Mikey's voice. "Morning!" she said in return, trying to put as much cheer into her voice as she could muster, but he had already walked towards his desk and was engaged in quiet conversation with the boy who sat next to him.

She was still unpacking when the starting bell rang. Dani rummaged around for a fresh carton of chalk in her desk. "All right!" she announced as the kids settled into their seats, their voices simmering to a murmur when they heard her begin to speak. "Who wants to tell me all about indirect statements?"

Her words were met with a chorus of groans.

"Can't we take attendance first?"

Dani was writing on the chalkboard, but she didn't need to turn around to know who had spoken. "I recognized twenty five faces on the way in, Abigail. Including yours. So -" she turned around, holding out the piece of chalk with a smile. "- anyone brave enough to label it for me?"

Eventually someone raised their hand, and class was underway. She had thought placing the flowers on the windowsill would have been far enough out of her direct line of sight to be unobtrusive, but as the hours ticked on, Dani would inevitably drift back towards them. She favored that side of the room that day. Once she even propped herself atop the windowsill beside the flowers, her heels knocking against the radiators snaking along the lower walls like the path of a plow tilling fields.

When the school day had finished and everyone was shuffling out with their goodbyes, Dani found herself wandering back towards that side of the room yet again. As if at the other end was a rope around her neck, tugging her back. She waited until the kids had left, then lifted a hesitant hand to test the slightly waxy texture of a petal between thumb and forefinger.

She couldn't take them home. It wouldn't feel right. The house would swallow them up with echoes the moment she walked through the door. Not to mention what Eddie would think.

"What am I going to do with you?" she murmured.

"Am I interrupting?"

Dani nearly jumped out of her skin. Straightening her shoulders, she whipped around. Hannah was standing in the doorway, the back of her knuckles hovering over the wooden frame around her. She must have knocked softly, but Dani hadn't heard.

"Oh! No," Dani said, immediately crossing the room to stand beside her desk at the front of the class. "Not at all. I'm sorry. I forgot you mentioned you wanted to swing by later."

"That's quite all right." Hannah smiled and stepped further inside.

"Do you -?" Dani gestured towards her own seat at the head of the desk.

Hannah lifted an eyebrow and gave Dani an incredulous look. "You can't think I'd want to steal your own seat."

With a laugh and a shake of her head, Dani said, "No. I just - It feels a little weird sitting behind it with you there. Like I'm the one in charge."

"Well, it's your classroom, dear. Why wouldn't you be?"

"Now, who's not being serious?"

Hannah made a gesture as if caught red-handed. "Fair enough, I suppose. But I think this will suffice." She sat in one of the kids' chairs, primly crossing her legs at the knee and arranging her skirts just so. "Shall we?"

"Sure." Dani lowered herself into her own seat, resisting the urge to fiddle with one of the many items that littered her desk. "Any negative feedback I need to be aware of?"

"Nothing quite so dire," Hannah assured her. "Everyone's been very complimentary."

Dani made a noise in the back of her throat. "Doesn't sound very like the parents of this town. Are they sick?"

"I've checked the water supply," Hannah drawled, playing along. "But no. The only mixed feedback seems to be about this trip to the town library."

Dani frowned. "Oh? Do they want it somewhere else?"

"I think several had some delusions of grandeur, but frankly if they want their children to visit the Mona Lisa, they're going to have to make some sizable donations," said Hannah dryly. "Mostly though, it just seems that most of them can't make it, and we're short a few chaperones. I know you weren't planning on it, but would it be possible for you to go along as well?"

Eddie had been planning a trip to his aunt's house in Cedar Rapids that Friday. A long weekend with the whole O'Mara family to celebrate the engagement, and by extension, her birthday. And it wasn't that Dani disliked the idea, only that his family was as they'd always been: big and loud. Meanwhile, Dani's mother was an only child whose parents had died years ago. Not to mention her father's only sibling — Aunt Liv — was younger than Dani's parents by a decade, and had moved east. Karen and Liv had a mutual dislike for one another. After her dad had died, Dani was never allowed to visit.

"Yeah," Dani said, nodding her head. "Yeah. I can - I can definitely go. I mean, if you need it, then of course."

"You're sure?" Hannah asked, her gaze dark and discerning. "You don't have to, if you have plans. I can talk to a few others who might -"

"No. It's fine. I can go," Dani said. She was trapped between the opportunity to wriggle out of being the center of attention for three whole days, and the sickening feeling in her stomach knowing she would have to tell Eddie she wouldn't be going.

Hannah rose to her feet and Dani immediately followed suit, mirroring her actions. "I'm sorry to have sprung this on you so last minute," Hannah said. "But I really do appreciate it. I'll be going as well, but if you know anyone who is also willing to attend, do send them my way. It's all hands on deck with Jack on sabbatical and Charlotte away on maternity leave."

Dani's eyes widened. "Charlotte's on maternity leave?"

"Oh, my dear, you really have been out of the loop lately, haven't you?" Hannah said, not unkindly.

“I just feel like I’ve been so busy these days,” Dani said, her voice trailing off.

“I know.” Hannah smiled and placed a warm hand on Dani’s shoulder as they walked to the door together. She was about to say something else, when a tall shape loomed in the doorway and they both stopped.

Eddie pushed his glasses up his nose. “Hi,” he said, giving Hannah a smile and nodding in greeting. “Nice to see you, Mrs. Grose.”

“The charmer himself,” Hannah said, lowering her hand from Dani’s shoulder to gesture expansively towards him. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Eddie’s answering smile was somewhat puzzled, even a little bashful. He stooped a bit more, a habit he displayed more when in the presence of people who were far more effusive than himself. “I’m just here to pick up Danielle.”

Dani had frozen at Hannah’s side. She shook her head, a jolting little motion. “Right,” she said. Her car was back in the shop. Eddie had told her that morning he could drop her off and pick her up. That it was no problem. She dimly remembered him kissing her cheek as she’d stepped from his sedan earlier that same day. “I just need to -”

When Dani pointed towards the chaos of her things across the desk behind them, Hannah said, “I’ll leave you to it.”

And she swanned past Eddie with a parting pat upon his arm. Eddie adjusted his glasses again with a nervous laugh, stepping aside to let her pass. Dani went back to her desk and started piling all of her things into her bag as quickly as she could. She could hear Eddie step into the room behind her, taking in the scenery. He so rarely came in here. It felt strange to have him sharing this space, even for just a moment. As though his presence might leave a mark. As though he might somehow make it his in this brief time.

Her eyes flitted to the flowers on the windowsill and her fingers slipped. A cascade of papers went sprawling to the floor. Cursing under her breath, Dani knelt down to begin scooping everything up, tucking her long hair behind her ears when it got in her way.

“Let me help.” Eddie knelt down across from her, picking up pages at random and straightening them into a small pile in his hands.

“Thank you,” Dani muttered, her movements sharp and anxious as she did the same. Anything that would get everything in her bag and Eddie out of this room as soon as possible. It was only a moment before they straightened, before Eddie handed over the pages with a soft grin. The sunlight slanted across his face when he straightened and turned his head, so that his glasses gleamed bright enough to burn.

With a sense of dread pooling her gut, Dani watched him glance over at the windowsill. He looked back at her, his puzzled expression moving between her and the flowers. "An admiring parent?" he joked, nodding towards them.

Dani’s answering laugh sounded clipped to her own ears. "Yeah," she lied. Then, clearing her throat, she stuffed the last of the papers into her bag, not caring if she crumpled a few in the process. As she shouldered the bag, she started towards the exit. “Ready!”

He came without question, without even a backward glance. There was no hesitation in his face, no guile or suspicion. He smiled and held her hand as they walked down the halls of the school together, and it was like they were suddenly transported back to ten years ago. Walking these same halls. Lacing their fingers and squeezing tight. As if nothing had changed, as if they had stagnated in place, slowly turning to stone or the overwhelming tide of amber.

When they reached the car, Eddie automatically rounded to the driver’s seat. He always drove. The only exception was when his dad or older brothers all but wrestled the wheel from him. Even if given the choice, Dani would demure and let him drive instead. Backseat drivers only made her more nervous, and Eddie and Karen were the worst of the lot. Her mother in particular would snipe and grouse, pressing her foot against the car’s carpet as if trying to stamp on the brakes from the passenger’s seat. Instead, Dani fastened her seatbelt and leaned forward to tune the radio. The only upside to being the passenger — complete control over the station, with limited veto rights from the driver.

Eddie pulled away from the curb, pulling on the wheel to straighten the car as they trundled down the road. The school shrank in the passenger wing mirror. Eddie cracked the window a bit to let in some airflow, while Dani manipulated the radio dial, the orange line sliding from frequency to frequency in search of a station she wanted to listen to.

When she hit a station that played nothing but alternative and prog rock that Carson would have insisted they listen to, Eddie crinkled his nose and said, “Pass.”

Dani hesitated, lingering at the station for a split second, before she twisted the knob and continued, landing on a pop station that was inoffensive to neither of them. She leaned back in her seat, adjusting her clothes so they wouldn’t be so rumpled by the seat belt. “I’ve been asked to help supervise the kids on their town library trip in two weeks.”

Eddie flicked on the indicator light as they approached an intersection and turned. “Isn’t that on the Friday we’re going up to Cedar Rapids?”

Dani had to lace her hands together in her lap to keep from biting at her nails. Instead, her teeth worried at her lower lip. She made an affirmative noise.

Eddie’s hands went still against the steering wheel. His head turned — a quick dart in her direction — only to face the road once more. “Danielle, we’ve been planning to see my family for weeks.”

“I know.”

“They’ve wanted to get us all together to celebrate ever since the engagement.”

“I know,” Dani repeated, her voice smaller this time, drowned out by the music. “Hannah needs me to be there.”

“She can’t find anyone else? What about all the parent volunteers?”

Dani shook her head. “Too many of them are too busy. And we’re short a few staff members right now. So -”

He let out a long sigh, not taking his eyes off the road.

“I’m sorry,” she said, not daring to steal a glance at his expression and instead focusing on the way her fingers twisted together in her lap. “I love your family. You know that.”

“Yeah, I know.” Somehow he still managed to sound disappointed.

“I just can’t be everywhere at once. I had to make a choice.”

“Sometimes I wish you’d choose me.”

Blinking, Dani looked up, head turning. “Hey,” she said softly, admonishingly, and she reached out to grasp his knee. “That’s not what this is.”

“Well,” He lifted a hand and dropped it back down to the wheel with a thud. “It feels like it. I feel like I hardly see you when we’re not both exhausted. You’re either doing work at home, or you’re skipping out on Church to go to Jamie’s house. Or -”

Dani withdrew her hand, clenching it into a fist and returning it to her lap. “That’s not fair, Eddie.”

“Isn’t it? I’ve been wanting to make time.”

“So have I,” Dani said. The car felt too hot, the late afternoon sunlight streaming through the windscreen with little room for escape. She gestured towards the radio. “I’ve been wanting to go with you to one of Carson’s concerts for weeks, now.”

He rolled his eyes and said under his breath, “God.”

“He’s been practically begging us to go,” Dani reminded him.

Eddie made a dismissive gesture. “We’ve seen him perform before in that crap Des Moines bar already. They weren’t that good anyways, and we’re always so busy. Or did we not just have that conversation?”

Dani tried not to clench her teeth. “We can make time. It’s just one Saturday.”

“We’ll see,” he said, but his tone was flinty and he added with a mutter, “If Hannah or Jamie allow it, maybe.”

Silence descended between them. The cheery pop tune in the background was too much to bear, and after a few seconds Dani switched it off with a sharp twist of her wrist so that the only sound was the rumble of the tires across sun-bleached bitumen. Dani spent the rest of the drive with her arms crossed, jaw clenched, glowering out the passenger window without really seeing the passing scenery. At one point it seemed Eddie would resume their conversation, but he merely cleared his throat and adjusted the rear view mirror.

When they reached the house, she promptly opened the door and stepped out, storming towards the front door. He sighed behind her, climbing out of the car to follow after her.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean -”

She yanked her keys from her bag, keeping her voice down as she unlocked the door. “You know how much it means to him, Eddie.” Her eyes darted towards their neighbors’ houses, but nobody was on their lawn to eavesdrop.

“I know,” he said.

“Don’t make this about -” she pushed the door inwards and stepped inside “- the other thing. Because it’s not.”

“I said: I’m sorry.”

Dani paused in the entryway only to remove her shoes and toss her bag to the floor beside them. Her keys still dangled from one of her hands, and she dropped them atop her bag, where they slid to the ground in a clatter. The light admitted from the front door folded as Eddie shut the door behind them. She did not turn around, starting off further into the house.

“Listen,” he sighed. When he grabbed her arm, it was not abrupt or hard, but it made her tense regardless. Eddie could feel it and he immediately let go with an apologetic grimace. “He’s my brother. And I love him. But it’s just one show, and he’ll get over it and be into some other new phase by the end of the year. I know, all right? But you - you don’t have siblings.”

“I have you,” Dani said, the words dropping from her lips before she could stop them.

He laughed, the sound surprisingly light, almost relieved. “Yeah, but it’s not the same,” he said, as if that was obvious, the most obvious thing in the world. “Sure, we grew up together, but our relationship is different.”

Dani’s mouth opened but then shut again almost immediately. Taking a deep breath, she swallowed down whatever she had been about to say. She didn’t have the heart to tell him that it wasn’t.

The light from the flashbulb blinded her for a moment that she had to blink away the dark spots, her smile strained from holding it so long. Eddie was beside her, his arm around her shoulders, holding her close and pressing her into his chest where he smelled of cologne and aftershave until Judy was ushering him away, insisting for just one more photo of Dani alone. He went easily, but his hand lingered on the small of her back, almost unwilling to leave her.

She offered him a faint grin back as he stepped away, ducking her head briefly to smooth down her dress as she stood alone just below one of those generically pretty, mass produced paintings along the wall of the living room.

“Honey, you look so beautiful,” Judy said, “Still can’t believe how much you’ve grown.”

“Grew too fast if you ask me,” Karen said from the couch, where she sat watching with an already glassy smile. Dani swallowed thickly as Judy chuckled and finally took her last photo.

Happy with the results, Judy stepped towards Dani and cupped her cheek, murmuring, “So proud of you.” Dani’s smile flickered, slipping into something more shy and real.

“Thank you,” Dani murmured.

Patting her cheek, Judy left Dani to her devices and handed off the camera to Mike who had been relegated as the cameraman for the evening, a bulky camcorder already set upon his shoulder as he wandered through the house, filming everyone and anything interesting.

As far as O’Mara birthday parties tended to go, Dani’s party today was subdued by the family’s standards, but there was still a flair of the O’Mara fervor to it. Dinner had already been proudly served by Judy and Carson, an array of Dani’s favorite dishes perfectly cooked by the pair, and now, dinner table cleared and dishes cleaned, everyone was starting to get into the swing of things.

Generic pop music played from the stereo system where Carson declared providence over. He could often be seen trotting back and forth to switch tapes and fiddle with the stereo equalizer. Her mom laughed on the couch where she accepted another glass of wine from David’s wife. Kids that barely reached her waist either ran through the house or lingered on the carpet by their parents’ legs. Judy wandered around, always with a food platter in hand or a glass of her own wine, playing hostess. Eddie and his older brothers laughing as they stood around drinking beers. And Jamie —

Dani looked around, fidgeting with her hands, seeing neither her nor Mikey anywhere. With one last glance around the living room, she wandered further into the house until at last she spotted Jamie at the end of the hallway, leaning against a wall near the basement entrance. In black slacks, a white dress shirt with rolled up sleeves, and brown suspenders, it was the most dressed up Dani had seen her in years.

Jamie’s brow was furrowed, lost in thought as a hand held up a glass of wine close to her mouth while the other grasped her elbow. When Dani stepped closer, Jamie blinked and looked up, her expression brightening into a smile.

“Fancy seeing you here," Jamie said.

“Are you hiding?” Dani asked with a teasing grin, leaning against the wall across Jamie, the corner edge of it digging against her back.

Jamie gave her a look. “I’m doing nothing of the sort, thank you very much,” she said, taking a casual sip of her wine. “Just enjoying my drink.”

“Right,” Dani said, nodding indulgently, “So, you’re not lurking back here, staring holes at the wall — “ She twisted around to gesture with a pointed flourish, and froze, sucking in a quiet breath.

Because there, right on the corner, was a collection of clustered lines and names written in pen and pencil, leading up from a foot or so off the floor, leading straight above Dani’s head. A near three decades of growth and life documented in just a simple straight line of uneven lengths, and two numbers. If Dani were to look closer, she’d find her own name somewhere in the disarray.

Slowly, she twisted back around where Jamie was watching with a faint solemn grin. Jamie pushed off the wall, her arm reaching out to the lines, pressing a finger against a cluttered section. “Here’s me,” she murmured. Dani eased further aside, leaning her shoulder against the wall, reading where Jamie pointed: Jamie - 13 yrs old, 5’1. “First year they put me down.”

Dani smiled softly, remembering that day vividly. A raucous day spent at the bowling alley a town over, and then back at the house. Jamie high on a sugar and adrenaline rush, so relieved and happy to finally be a teenager.

Jamie’s finger moved again, dragging higher and stopping after just a few inches to: Jamie - 16 yrs old, 5’3.

“And the last,” Jamie murmured.

Dani’s smile flickered, a heaviness settling in her chest as Jamie pulled away and leaned again on the opposite wall. Wrapping her arms around her stomach, it took Dani what felt like an unbearably long time to find the courage to look at Jamie again. When she did, Jamie still wore that same grin, but there was a fond amusement to it as she stared at the wall, chuckling softly. “And of course, you grew a bloody inch taller than me that year. Prat.”

Dani laughed. “Probably because you stopped eating your vegetables and bread crusts.”

“You’ve no idea,” Jamie said, drinking her wine. It made Dani pause. It was such a simple statement, but there was a somber history hidden in the words, one that she knew Jamie wasn’t ready to divulge yet, if ever.

Before Dani could find a response to that, Mikey wandered over with a small bowl in hand with what looked like puppy chow, absentmindedly leaning next to Jamie as he munched.

Jamie blinked down at him, incredulous. “Where the hell did you get that?”

“Mrs. O’Mara gave me some,” Mikey said. With a soft hum of appreciation, Jamie reached a hand forward, but Mikey jerked the bowl away with a scowl. “Get your own!”

Jamie tutted. “Greedy,” she muttered, flicking his ear. Dani laughed as he swiped at Jamie’s hand, but made no attempt to move away, resting his shoulder comfortably against her. He’d been semi-permanently attached to Jamie’s side for most of the evening when he wasn’t either lingering at Dani’s elbow or hovering in the kitchen with Carson and Judy, helping to stir a pot or mix ingredients as they asked him about his interests.

Though as he chewed now, his eyes brightened. “Hey, Jamie, your name’s on there,” he said, pointing to the list of heights, and frowned thoughtfully, “Did you used to live here?”

“No,” Jamie replied, her voice clipped. Dani gave her a look, but Jamie wasn’t paying attention, her gaze fixed on the wall.

Mikey didn’t notice, either too fascinated or too used to Jamie’s gruff exterior. “Dani, your name’s here too,” he said, leaning closer, and then made a face. “It says ‘Danielle’ though. Why do they call you that?”

Dani refrained from sighing, but Jamie on the other hand had no such reservations, huffing and pulling Mikey back by the scruff of his shirt to her side again.

“That was a lifetime ago, mate,” she said, ruffling his hair.

He grumbled and shook off her hand. “But they still call her that,” he said, looking up at Dani who had always insisted to him: ‘Dani. Just Dani.’ So much so that clearly, it became an ingrained thought.

Dani shrugged helplessly. “It’s just the way it’s always been.”

He stared for a moment, and then also shrugged, returning back to his puppy chow. Over his head, Dani finally caught Jamie’s eyes, already watching her with such a piercing gaze that Dani felt like Jamie was seeing right through her. Her heart sped up, and before she scrambled to think of anything else to say to fill the silence, she was saved by a collection of young voices and the drumming of feet scuttling their way towards the trio.

“Oh, no,” Mikey muttered, grimacing.

Curiously, Dani turned towards the sound to see David and Tommy’s kids skidding towards Mikey to pull at his arm towards the basement, begging him to come play. Mikey cast his panicked eyes towards Jamie, but she only laughed. Being the newest, tallest, and the oldest by at least six years, Mikey was by default the most popular kid in the house. The four O’Mara children had immediately tried to accost him when they first set eyes on him, but shy and overwhelmed at the attention, he had hid away by Jamie, her mere presence enough to keep the kids at bay. But not anymore.

“Jamie -!” Mikey said, being inched away by two of Tommy’s kids pulling his arm.

Still laughing, Jamie finally softened, and said, “Thirty minutes, then red alert.”

Mikey’s face twisted, but he eventually huffed, acquiescing to the insistent pulling and let himself be led down the basement, the kids laughing as they went.

“Never thought I’d see the day Tweedledee and Tweedledum have kids, but here we are,” Jamie said.

“They mellowed over the years, believe it or not,” Dani said.

Jamie gave her a dubious look. “You sure about that?”

Having heard the news that Dani wouldn’t be able to visit their aunt's place the following weekend, and that Jamie had made her return to North Liberty, the twins had made the effort to travel back to town with their families for Dani’s birthday. The second the twins landed their eyes on Jamie for the first time in a decade, they had crushed her into excited back breaking hugs.

Jamie gave back as good as she got.

“What is that?” was the first thing she said to Tommy after they had released her, pointing at his thick, well cared for moustache.

“You don’t think it makes me look handsome?” Tommy had replied, grinning proudly.

“Looks more like a rat died on your face.”

David had bent over laughing as Tommy’s face fell. “Told you she’d hate it.”

“And you,” Jamie pointed to David, “Whoever said that hairstyle was a look for you lied out of their arse. It’s burning my eyes.”

“If Eddie and I hold them down, will you please shave them for us,” Carson begged.

“Dani, get a razor,” Jamie had replied.

Dani did not in fact get a razor, she had been too busy laughing. Too relieved to finally have Jamie and Mikey here after spending the morning and afternoon anxiously awaiting the party. Too busy watching the way Jamie’s wicked smile had pulled tight at the corners as she was introduced to Tommy and David’s wives and their kids. A similar taut smile that Mikey wore as he was pulled away from his hiding spot behind Jamie’s back to be introduced to the rest of the family as well.

Looking at Jamie now, there was a tension to her shoulders and eyes that clashed with the easy grin she wore.

Dani leaned further into the wall, giving her a careful look. “What are you doing back here really?”

Jamie rolled her eyes. “I’m having me time, is that a crime?”

“Of course not,” Dani said, offering her a smile, “Just...are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Dani gave her a look, pinning Jamie with a knowing stare. Jamie’s shoulders slumped with an exhale, her eyes darting away briefly before meeting Dani’s with a faint grin. “Just feels like nothing’s changed here, is all,” Jamie said, “I mean — besides those two giant oafs managing to snag wives and push out a couple of kids.“ At Dani’s laugh, Jamie’s grin widened, a sharp edge to it. “Guess it just feels like…”

Edging closer, Dani reached out her hand to grab Jamie’s. “Like what?” she said, rubbing a thumb over Jamie’s knuckles.

Her throat bobbing, Jamie’s mouth dropped open to speak, but the sound of feet again interrupted her, her eyes darting towards the noise. Dani dropped her hand as surreptitiously as possible, her shoulders tense, but at the sight of Carson marching towards them, she exhaled softly.

“Jesus, did you leave a trail of breadcrumbs all the way here?” Jamie said. Dani chuckled and poked her hard in the stomach. Jamie flinched back, swiping at her hand with some minor grumbling.

“Been looking for you two everywhere,” Carson said, mysteriously donning his leather jacket, and turned to Jamie. “I’m thinking it’s time for a smoke break.”

Jamie frowned. “Already?”

Humming affirmatively, his eyes bright as he looked to Dani, “And you’re coming with us.”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Nope!”

“Can I at least get my jacket?”

“Already handled,” he said, and began enthusiastically shoving them towards the kitchen where the back entrance was, ignoring their complaints.

With jackets and shoes donned, they stepped out into the chilly evening air onto the back patio, the lights flickered on. Dani and Jamie leaned next to each other on the railing as Carson hopped on the patio table, his legs dangling over the edge.

“So,” Carson started in between lighting a cigarette, “How’s it feel to be in your late twenties?”

“Please don’t remind me,” Dani said.

“S’not that bad,” Jamie said, smoke billowing from her mouth.

“Oh, yeah,” Carson smirked, “You’re both ancient now.

Dani glared at him. “We’re twenty-six.”

“Yeah, ancient,” Carson replied.

Tutting, Jamie shook her head. “Cheeky.”

Jamie was right. For the most part, it did feel like nothing had changed. While Dani and Jamie had been attached at the hip, there had always been room for Carson who lingered nearby, eager to soak up their time and attention. Fitting in between the gaps when there was breathing room. And when Jamie was gone, he had been a calm and comforting shoulder for Dani to lean on. And now, their banter kept her grinning like it always had.

Eventually, the back door opened and Eddie peeked his head out, his glasses glaring bright under the porch light. “Oh, there you are,” he said, “Carson, mom needs you in the kitchen.”

Carson exhaled and rolled his eyes. “Said she had it handled,” he muttered, putting out his cigarette on the ashtray on the table and hopped to his feet. “See you in five, ladies,” he said, saluting Dani and Jamie before slipping inside, patting Eddie hard on the back.

Eddie twisted his mouth after Carson, before returning his attention to the pair. “You two all right out here?” he asked, his breath releasing a white cloud of ice.

“Pleased as punch,” Jamie replied, releasing her own breath of smoke through pursed lips.

His brow furrowed as he stared at Jamie, opening his mouth as though he wanted to say something. But then he shook his head and smiled at Dani in that same way he'd been doing all week up until today since their argument, a sheen of remorse in his eyes and an eager willingness to put it all behind them. Dani wished she knew how to tell him that none of it was necessary, that she just wanted it to be over. Without another word, he stepped back inside and shut the door.

Jamie chuckled. “Don’t think your husband to-be is pleased with you being outside with us smokers,” she said, spinning around to lean her elbows on the railing.

“He just worries, is all,” Dani said, mirroring Jamie’s position, their elbows knocking together.

“Promise not to give you cancer then,” Jamie said, “Y’know, he mentioned earlier that your house needed some work to be doing. Small repairs here and there. I occasionally do some freelance work in my free time, I wouldn’t mind popping over to spare a hand. Could even give you a family discount.”

Dani went still. Not even Jamie’s grin that somehow managed to be both roguish and sincere could stop the panic rising in Dani’s throat. It took all of her considerable will to refrain from shouting ‘No’ into Jamie’s face, an unyielding uneasiness settling over her at the thought of Jamie in that house, with its confining walls and ceaseless need to take and take. Dani couldn’t bear even the idea of it, of letting Jamie linger in its shadows, not when she was the antithesis to all of what it represented.

Dani shook her head. “No - um. It’s all right,” she said, her voice high to even her own ears. She swallowed hard.

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” Dani said, “Mike said he’d come over soon to help to save us some money.”

“You know I was joking about the money thing, yeah?” Jamie said, frowning.

Dani smiled softly at her. “I know,” she said, nudging Jamie softly in the shoulder with her own. “Just don’t want to keep you from actual paying clients.”

“You pay me enough anyways with the food and company,” Jamie said, waving her hand dismissively. When Dani didn’t respond, words trapped in her throat, Jamie shrugged. “Just saying. If you ever need the extra hand, just say the word.”

“Yeah, of course,” Dani said, almost breathless as she nodded.

They descended into silence, watching the shadows of the O’Mara’s backyard under the blue evening light. She itched to return to their previous conversation inside, to ask again what made Jamie hide away so thoroughly for so long, staring so hard at the wall of lines of heights that she could’ve burned a hole into the wall. But Jamie remained silent by her side, like it never happened. Silent in the same way she’d been all week over the flowers that she had delivered to Dani, as though she hadn’t briefly turned Dani’s world upside down with the gesture.

At a brisk breeze, the cold evening air biting at her cheeks, Dani shivered. Feeling the motion, Jamie turned to Dani and grinned. “All right, there?”

“What do you think?”

Jamie laughed and linked their arms, pulling her in close. “Get in, then.”

Chuckling breathlessly, Dani eased closer into the warmth of Jamie’s side, and finally gathering her courage, she said, “I never did say thank you earlier. For the flowers.”

“My pleasure,” Jamie murmured, pulling at her cigarette.

“You didn’t have to.”

“‘Course I did,” Jamie said, so matter of factly, blowing smoke up towards the sky and away from Dani, the white smoke disappearing into the breeze. “The way you’ve been feeding Mikey and I, keeping us sane. The least I could do, really.”

Dani was silent for a moment, and then said, “They really are an interesting shade of purple.”

“Don’t you start,” Jamie scolded, jostling Dani who laughed.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Dani murmured, smiling gently when Jamie met her gaze.

“Me too,” Jamie murmured, the corner of her mouth tilted into a smile, her eyes soft.

“I think you’re wrong though,” Dani said before she could stop herself. At Jamie’s questioning frown, she swallowed hard and struggled to find the words. “I mean — what you said earlier. Some things did stay the same, you weren’t wrong about that. But other things. I just — when you were gone. Everything changed.”

Jamie’s expression slowly slackened to that same faint solemn grin from the hallway. Her eyes flickered away to the yard, taking a long drag of her cigarette and releasing it into the air. “Thing is,” Jamie slowly started, still not looking at Dani. “From my perspective, it’s like this place froze in time while the rest of the world spun around it. Changing and morphing itself into something unrecognizable and different. Just like I did.”

Dani ducked her head, struck silent. So much said with so little. Over the years Dani often worried about Jamie, always wondering where she was and if she was okay. Worry that eventually had nowhere to go but to be packed away in a box, tucked away safely. The relief now to have Jamie again, pressed warm against her side — solid, real, and safe — changed, but otherwise still Jamie, was like sinking into a hot bath after spending years in the cold.

Slowly, she eased her hand into Jamie’s free one. The movement made Jamie meet her eyes. “You’re still my favorite,” Dani said, offering her a small smile.

“Even as battered as I am?” Jamie asked ruefully.

“Wouldn’t have you any other way.”

Jamie murmured, “Feeling’s mutual, Poppins.”

They fell silent again, their hands still linked. The small breeze rustling the brittle and colorful leaves. The end of Jamie’s cigarette burning a bright hot red, revealing grey ash as she took another drag, her lips wrapped on the filter with practised ease, leaving behind a faint print of lipstick residue. When Jamie lifted her head to blow the smoke into the sky, the scar along her mouth and chin was outlined in the porch light slanting sharply across her features. Dani swallowed hard and blinked her eyes away.

“Do you mind if I -?” Dani started when Jamie dropped her head, gesturing towards the cigarette.

Jamie arched an eyebrow at her, smirking. “You sure your little lungs can handle it? Won't start wheezing on me?”

Dani rolled her eyes and held out her hand. Chuckling, Jamie dutifully handed it over, watching eagerly. The first pull hurt and she coughed lightly, blowing it out. At Jamie’s laugh, Dani knocked her shoe into Jamie’s ankle.

“Shut up,” she mumbled, and took another pull. It was easier this time, her shoulders slumping as she sank into it.

“Well, look at you,” Jamie said, chuckling as Dani blew out a line of smoke, the pair watching it unfurl in the air. “You’re a pro.”

“Only socially,” Dani said, handing it back. “That’s gonna bite me in the ass later with my asthma, but thanks.”

“No problem,” Jamie said, pinning the cigarette with a hard stare, flicking off the ashes, looking very much like she was debating taking another pull or not. But then, Jamie sighed and checked her watch. “Better get inside before they wonder if we ran off into the night.”

Dani laughed. “Like that one Christmas when we were fourteen?”

“Probably the best Christmas of my life,” Jamie said, grinning as she stepped away to put out the cigarette.

They returned inside, shedding their outer layers that Jamie insisted they leave in the kitchen for now, taking her hand and leading her towards a mysteriously dark dining room.

“Hey,” Dani started, “What’s going — “

Before she could finish the question, there was a loud cacophonous noise as a dozen people began to sing happy birthday at her. She jerked to a stop with a startled, “Oh!” It took a moment to settle her heart, but she finally laughed, taking in the room that was lit by only the candles that sat in a birthday cake on the table, the darkened room aglow with firelight, and everyone surrounding the table, looking at her as they sang.

She heard Jamie laugh behind her. Dani shot her a knowing grin over her shoulder, shaking her head. Jamie shrugged, her smile bright, and pressed a hand to her back to ease her forward as the singing continued. When she made it to the head of the table where the cake awaited her, aware that Mike’s camera was on her, and Judy’s arm now wrapped around her shoulders, holding her close, Dani held onto a wide smile, her cheeks straining, unable to look anyone in the eyes as the singing came to a close with a round of applause.

At the calls to blow out the candles and make a wish, Dani hesitated, worrying at her lower lip as she stared down at the candles. She could feel Eddie on the other side of her, pulling her hand into his, linking their fingers. Judy’s arm was warm and solid around her shoulders. Her mom sat adjacent to her, a glass of wine in her hand, her smile just short of wistful and her eyes glassy. Dani leaned forward, feeling the heat of the fire on her face, and her eyes darted up at the last second, catching Jamie’s eyes. Jamie smiled fondly at her, her arm resting around Mikey’s shoulders. Her stomach twisting as she looked back down at the cake, Dani took a deep breath and blew out the candles.

“Budge up,” Jamie said, nudging Mikey’s socked foot with her own.

Mikey frowned at her and pointed at the space on the couch beside him. “There’s space right there.”

“I can see that. Got your name on it, too. Now -” Jamie made a whistling noise and gestured with her bottle of beer. Rolling his eyes, Mikey scooted over so that Jamie could take the middle section of the couch, directly between him and Dani.

“Right,” Jamie groaned as she lowered herself onto the couch. “Let’s get this over with. Bring on the ear people.”

On the other side of the couch Dani could just hear Mikey mutter, “Ferengi. I told you they’re called Ferengi.”

Dani could see Jamie hide a smirk by taking a sip of her beer, well aware that Jamie knew exactly what they were called.

“You’re such an ass,” Dani murmured with a small smile, watching Jamie instead of the screen.

“Just doing my sisterly duty,” Jamie said.

“Shh!” Mikey told both of them.

“Yeah, Dani,” said Jamie, lifting a finger to her lips.

Dani snorted and shook her head, turning her attention back to the television. She curled her feet up beneath her legs, so that she leaned against the arm of the couch. If Jamie cared that the side of their hips were pressed together, she did not complain. On screen, the episode played but Dani hardly saw it.

It wasn’t even about watching television with them. The screen could have been blank for all Dani cared. It was an excuse, like a hearth in the dead of winter. Something they huddled round for warmth and the quiet comforts of each other’s company. She would have been just as happy sitting in silence with them, and she wondered how she might best memorize this moment, press it between two pages and preserve it for safe-keeping for when the inevitable end came. When the episode was over and she no longer had any excuse to linger in a house that was not hers but which felt more like a home than the one to which she would return. When Mikey would bound off to his room up the stairs, leaving Dani and Jamie alone on the couch together, reluctant to move apart despite the newly freed space. When Jamie would be the first to rise to her feet and walk towards the kitchen to make one last pot of tea for them to share, one last excuse before Dani had to go.

“Cuppa for the road?” Jamie asked.

The moment came too soon. A blink and it was here. Quick as a press of fingers to the pulse.

Dani sighed and dragged herself from the couch to where Jamie was already putting the kettle on the stove top. “That’d be great,” she said and sat at a barstool, leaning her elbows on the kitchen island. Upstairs she could hear the thump of Mikey’s footsteps down the narrow hall, followed by the slam of a door. Dani winced. “Forgot how loud boys can be.”

Jamie gave a huff of laughter. “How could you, living with the O’Maras all these years?”

“They're not that bad.”

“You sure we’re talking about the same O’Mara boys?”

“Pretty sure,” Dani said with a smile as she watched Jamie rummage around the cramped kitchen space. The afternoon light glanced through the windows, illuminating the space with squares of italicized sunlight. With very little effort she could pretend it was morning and that they’d just woken up and Jamie was making them the first pot of tea to fortify them for the day.

“What’s going through that head of yours?” Jamie asked, pulling down two fresh mugs from the cupboard. “You’ve got one of those looks on your face.”

“I miss sleepovers,” Dani admitted. Her jaw was propped atop her hands, so that the words came out half mumbled.

Jamie paused, but it was such a minute thing that Dani might have imagined it. “‘Fraid my couch isn’t very comfortable.” She set down an empty mug in front of Dani. “But you’re welcome to it, whenever you like.”

“Thanks,” Dani said softly.

Jamie’s eyes met hers and there was a beat of silence before the kettle started to whir in the background. Clearing her throat, Jamie turned and took it off the heat, pouring water into the teapot and setting the lid atop to let it steep. She did not turn back around immediately. Instead, her head tilted as if in contemplation, and she reached for a piece of paper atop a corner of the kitchen counter beside the radio, a bunched up scarf, and a small bowl holding different sets of keys.

“Forgot about this,” Jamie muttered. She turned, paper in hand, and frowned down at its contents. Then she held it up for Dani to read from a distance. “Something about a school trip to the library?”

It was, Dani realized, the student permission form. She straightened and nodded. “Yeah. We need parental or guardian permission, otherwise the kid has to stay at the school for the day while the rest of us go.”

Jamie turned over the page to see if there was anything written on the back. There wasn’t. “Do you do these sorts of trips often?”

“There are a few, yeah,” said Dani. “There’s an upcoming camping trip over one of the long weekends, I think. And a Halloween event. And, you know, the usual dances and stuff.”

Jamie raised her eyebrows, her mouth curling at the corners. “Don’t remember the school having this kind of budget when we were attending.”

Dani laughed. “Yeah, well. There are a few more students nowadays.”

With a wordless hum, Jamie turned and wandered over to the junk drawer in the kitchen. She pulled out a pen, shutting the drawer with a nudge of her hip, and signed the piece of paper with a fast scribble against the bench top. She was about to straighten when she paused, frowning down at the page. “Says here,” she tapped the tip of her pen against a section of the page, “to sign as a volunteer?”

“Oh, no, you don’t have to -” Dani shook her head. “That’s just for parents who want to come along and help supervise.”

Jamie made a gesture with the pen. “So, should I sign it?”

“Only if you want to spend four hours of your Friday at a library with two hundred elementary schoolers,” Dani said.

“Two hundred?” Jamie repeated, making a face. “What? Are you taking them all at the same time?”

“Our budget isn’t that big,” Dani said. “It’s cheaper if we just do it all at once.”

“Blimey.”

Dani held out her hand for the paper. “Don’t worry about it. You can -”

“But do you need more volunteers?” Jamie asked, interrupting her.

“Don’t you have work?”

Jamie shrugged. “I can take a day off. Can’t even remember the last time I stepped foot in a library. Think I almost caught fire.”

Dani snorted and said, “No, I’m pretty sure that was the Church.”

“Holy ground and I never did mix well. D’you reckon this fancy new library will be consecrated?”

Dani hesitated, but couldn’t fathom why. Being afraid of Jamie mingling with her work life was not the same as worrying about Eddie mingling with her work life. She was afraid of seeing her too often, of being seen with her too often, of Hannah seeing them together, of Jamie mentioning the flowers, of Hannah cluing in to her lie, of Eddie’s absence and Jamie’s — something. And Jamie was watching her now, as if waiting for her permission, as if Dani had complete say over everything and anything.

Dani shook her head. “No. No, I’m sure you’re safe from heaven’s wrath.”

“This time, maybe.” Jamie’s smile softened, but then she winked at her before glancing down to scrawl her signature a second time. When she had finished, she held out the page to Dani. “Here you are, then. Count me in.”

Dani took the page. Her fingers traced the edges, lingering as she folded it into a small enough square to fit into her pocket, but even then she did not tuck it away. Not just yet. She tapped the folded paper against her opposite hand and chewed at her lower lip.

“Should I not come?” Jamie asked, slowly putting the pen back into its designated drawer with all the rest of the home’s miscellaneous items.

Dani shoved the paper into the back pocket of her jeans and smiled. “No,” she said. “I just think you’ll find it all very boring, is all.”

“I like boring.”

“But you’re not -” said Dani, waving towards her, “- boring.”

“Never said I was. Just said I liked it.”

With an incredulous snort, Dani asked, “Since when?”

“Since my life got too interesting.” Jamie deemed the tea steeped and poured them each a cup. “Boring’s good. Boring’s underrated.”

Without a word Dani took the cup offered to her. She added a splash of milk from the jar Jamie put out on the counter, but didn’t take a sip. Her fingers tapped nervously against the rounded surface of the mug, and with every brush of her third finger against the earthenware there came the clink of her engagement ring. She stared down at the cup. In it her reflection was murky and small.

“Hey,” Jamie said and Dani glanced up. Jamie smiled. “I still have a birthday present to give you.”

Dani blinked. “You really didn’t need to -”

“Too late. Already have it.”

A weak huff of laughter and Dani shook her head. “It’s fine. Really. Having you at Judy’s the other night was enough.”

Having you here is enough, she didn’t say. It was what she meant. And Jamie’s expression has softened in a way that said she understood the implication, even if it wasn’t stated outright.

“Come on,” Jamie set down her cup of tea, clink of earthenware against tile, and gestured for Dani to stand. “Up you get.”

Dani never could say no to her. Some days it felt like she couldn’t say no to anybody, but with Jamie it was always true. She let go of the mug and scraped back the barstool. When she rounded the kitchen island, Jamie stopped her with a touch at her shoulder.

“Turn around,” Jamie said as she picked up the scarf and made a twirling motion with one hand. When Dani gave her a dubious look, Jamie laughed. “It’s a surprise. I promise I won’t lead you over a cliff.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Dani replied dryly, turning in place.

The scarf had been worn so often throughout the years that the wool was soft with age and wear. Dani held her breath as it came up over her eyes, folding across the top half of her face until the world was but a warm darkness that smelled of shampoo and subtle woodsy cologne. She could feel Jamie tying the ends off at the back of her head. Reaching up, Dani folded a bit of the scarf so that it was further up the bridge of her nose.

"No peeking," Jamie chided.

"I'm not."

"Sure you aren't."

"Jamie."

"And here I thought you were a fan of delayed gratification," Jamie said, chuckling softly.

Her voice had moved. Dani's head twitched in that direction, straining to follow Jamie's presence, but Jamie walked with soundless steps. Whisper of socks against the floorboards. Shift of cloth against cloth. Dani reached out blindly in the direction she thought Jamie was standing and was startled to feel a hand catch her own.

"This way," Jamie murmured.

Dani took a step forward but paused when Jamie let go of her hand. She hesitated to move until she felt a gentle touch at the base of her back, the low curve of her spine, and Jamie's voice in her ear. "I've got you."

A shiver traced its fingertips from the nape of Dani's neck down to where Jamie's hands were pressing her forward, one step at a time. Dani could just make out the floor and the blur of her own feet, but naught else. She walked with a hand outstretched, dragging her fingers against the wall, against fixtures and door frames, even knowing Jamie wouldn't let her run into anything.

One of Jamie's hands smoothed over her hip, holding her in place. "Just a tick," she said, and suddenly she was gone and Dani stood alone in the dark, listening to the sound of a lock tumbling open with a click.

"Watch your step," Jamie said, taking both of Dani's hands now and guiding her along.

Dani felt around the ground with one foot until she found the step and carefully took it. Another and then flat surfaces once again. The floor here was colder, harder. It caught slightly like a burr on the undersides of her feet. Dani tilted her head to one side, smelling the faint fumes of diesel and metal.

"Are we in the garage?" she asked.

"Look at you, Sherlock."

"Please don't tell me you bought me a car."

Jamie laughed softly. "Just how much do you think they pay me at the botanical gardens?" Dani opened her mouth to reply, but Jamie said warningly, "Don't answer that. Rhetorical question."

Dani's mouth curled at the corners in spite of herself. She reached up to touch the scarf. "Can I take this off now?"

"In a minute," Jamie grunted and her voice was further away now. There was the sound of something heavy sliding across the ground, as though being pushed atop scraps of cardboard. “You know, for someone who didn’t want a present you’re awfully impatient.”

"Consider my curiosity piqued."

"All right." Jamie sounded close again, and Dani started when she felt a soft tug at the knot of the scarf at the back of her head. "Ready?"

Dani's only reply was a wordless, helpless noise in the back of her throat, and the scarf fell away. Blinking in the strips of flourescent light of the garage, Dani squinted at the shape before her. It was a desk. Broad and deep, the wood warm and oak-bright. She took an abortive step forward, then glanced over her shoulder at Jamie, "Can I -?"

Jamie was winding the scarf around one fist as though it were a hand bandage or a precursor to boxing gloves. She motioned towards the desk. "Course you can. It's yours, if you'll have it."

The top of the desk reached Dani's hip. She ran her fingers along it, savoring the smooth surface that had been painstakingly sanded back at various grades until the wood was almost buttery to the touch. A walk around the desk revealed a few deep gouges even sanding couldn't erase — marks studiously engraved with initials and little pieces of history scattered here and there — but Dani found herself lingering over those the most. She opened a drawer and seared onto a corner of the wood inside was the county seal.

"They're doing some renovations at the old council offices near work," Jamie explained when she saw what Dani was looking at. "Found 'em trying to chuck this out, and I rescued it. Those contractors didn't know what they had. Too good for kindling, this."

The drawer shut smoothly with the barest push of Dani’s hand against it. “Jamie,” she said, “this is too nice. I can’t -”

“Rubbish,” Jamie scoffed, stepping forward to stand beside her. She crossed her arms and admired her own handiwork. “Few hours with a hand planer and a belt sander. Few coats of linseed oil. That’s all it is.”

There were wood shavings caught in the corners of the garage still. A small pile of dust beside a broom which was leaning against the far wall. Dani felt her throat tighten, even looking at the desk. Just a piece of furniture, she thought faintly. A battered and recycled old block of wood from the same building complex where Eddie worked. Had he mentioned renovations at dinner? Dani couldn’t remember.

“Thank you. It’s -” Dani said, trying to bite back the slight tremor in her voice. “I don’t know where I’m going to put it.”

The spare bedroom, maybe. She and Eddie hardly ever had guests come over to visit. He would complain. He would help Carson and Jamie haul it inside, but he would complain. Subtle jabs about the guest room feeling cramped. How they would need to buy a new chair to go with it. How its weight would dig grooves into the carpet. When he had only ever complained about how her work took up space. And now, here Jamie had done the opposite.

“I do like it,” Dani insisted. “I do. It’s wonderful. It’s -” she clamped her teeth to stop herself from prattling, feeling a strange burning in her throat.

Jamie was frowning. She nodded in Dani’s direction, just a quick lift of her chin. “Everything all right? You seem out of sorts today.”

“Yeah,” Dani said but her voice sounded high even to her own ears. “Yeah. I just -” She wrapped her arms around her middle. “There’s a lot going on right now.”

“Kids,” said Jamie. “Run you ragged.”

“It’s not just that, though. It’s -” Dani waved her hand in an absentminded gesture, only to then rub the weariness behind her eyes. “Weddings plans. And family. And - And new house and old car and -”

She cut her own babbling off, half expecting Jamie to have done it for her, to slice through Dani’s fumbling attempts at self-expression. But Jamie didn’t. Jamie waited for Dani to finish her thoughts, silent. Dani was biting at her nail before she even realized it, and she jerked her hand back down, tucking it beneath her opposite elbow and clenching her teeth together tightly.

“Do you remember,” Dani said suddenly, “when we snuck out at night to see Carrie that one time?”

Jamie hummed. “I remember. We went to that old outdoor picture theatre and it started to rain at the end.”

Dani nodded and sat on a corner of the desk, staring down at her own feet. She dug her fingers into her own flank to ground herself, just on the edge of pain beneath her ribs. “When she’s standing on stage with a crown and a sash, and everyone’s looking at her and clapping?” she said faintly, voice distant. “That’s what it feels like. Like I’m just walking around, waiting for a bucket of blood to drop over my head, and I don’t know when it’s going to happen but I’m the one holding the rope.”

Jamie didn’t say anything, but from the edges of her vision Dani could just make out movement. The light rustle of fabric as Jamie removed the scarf from her hand to wind it around her own neck as she approached, so she could sit against the edge of the desk beside her. Close enough to touch without doing so. Just the warmth of her hand a hair’s breadth away as Jamie leaned her weight back, hands spread against the broad wooden surface behind her.

“Need me to sort out your mum for you? Or Ed? Or Judy?” Jamie asked. “‘Cause I will.”

Dani’s answering laugh was weak and watery. She shook her head, but could not bear the thought of looking up at her, seeing the expression on Jamie’s face. “I try,” she said. “I try to tell them that I don’t want - that I - I like working, but they don’t listen. No matter how many times I try to open my mouth and it’s just - Everything’s happening so fast,” Dani shut her eyes and swallowed thickly past a lump in her throat. “I feel like I'm standing in the middle of the room, screaming, and nobody even looks at me. Nobody can see me."

Jamie’s hand drifted over and covered hers. "I see you,” she murmured.

For longer than she should have, Dani let her hand be held, squeezing Jamie’s fingers so tightly her knuckles flashed white and bloodless. Knowing that this was probably too much, that she should let go, but unable to make herself do so until she heard footsteps overhead once more. She jerked away, expecting Mikey to come thundering down the stairs at any moment, but he never did.

“Jamie!” his voice called from the top of the steps, out of sight and muted down the hall. “The sink tap is broken!”

“Be there in two shakes!” Jamie yelled.

“Sorry,” Dani mumbled. She stood and started towards the door leading back to the main house. “I’m sorry. I should go.”

“It’s fine,” Jamie said, following after her through the narrow hallway with a puzzled expression on her face. “You don’t have to dash.”

“I should. I have -” Dani picked up her bag and jammed her feet into her shoes at the front door, “- dinner plans. I have to go. I’ll - I’ll see you next time.”

“Sooner.”

Pausing at the threshold of the house, Dani blinked over her shoulder in a silent question.

Behind her Jamie stood with her hands in the pockets of her jeans, her smile crooked but her gaze soft. “Friday,” she said. “For the library trip. I’ll be there.”

It took four school buses to cart all the students to North Liberty Library. Dani and Jamie sat at the head of the final bus, directly behind the driver’s seat. The faux leather seats were slippery after decades of use, like the worn tread of an old shoe. Dani rocked as the bus trundled along, her shoulder pressing up against Jamie’s with every turn of the vehicle. Behind them, nearly fifty students were babbling away, the noise loud enough combined with the rumbling of the engine that whenever she and Jamie wanted to exchange a few words they had to lean their heads together to be heard.

The bus rounded a corner and approached the Library, where the other three yellow buses were already parked, a flood of students rushing onto the lawn. The asymmetrical building with its broad brick face and a playground that was already being overrun with kids despite the volunteers’ best efforts. Looking at it now, Dani struggled to imagine two hundred kids fitting inside at all.

“Maybe we should’ve taken them in batches,” she murmured.

She thought she was talking low enough to not be overheard but beside her Jamie said, “And I thought riding in here was like being crammed into a tin of sardines.”

Dani turned to smile at her, but at that very moment a wadded up ball of paper went streaking overhead and hit the back of the bus driver's seat. Looking briefly heaven-ward for patience, Dani leaned her arm over the back of her seat and aimed a stern glare behind her. "What did I say about throwing things?"

Several kids were giggling. Others pointed at one another, trying to blame someone else. Most hadn't even heard her over the general din of noise. Dani could see where her influence over the bus ended and it was about seven rows back. Beyond that, it might as well have been pandemonium.

"I think you're going to have to work on your volume," Jamie said when Dani gave up and settled back into her seat.

Sighing, Dani shook her head. "You know I hate yelling."

"Yeah, and your lung capacity is pure shite."

Dani elbowed her gently in the ribs, but still Jamie gave a theatrical grunt. Jamie's hand wormed its way between them, fingers testing the sensitive side of Dani's flank so that Dani squeaked and sat ramrod straight.

"Don't," Dani warned firmly. "Technically I am at work."

"Should’ve thought of that before you jostled me, then.”

Dani shook her head with a small smile, and from the corner of her eye she could see Jamie withholding a grin of her own. The bus jolted to a halt in a high squeal of brakes. Behind them, kids were already scrambling to their feet or kneeling on their seats to get a better look outside. Dani made a gesture towards Jamie so they could both stand in the aisle and block any potential escape before everyone could be briefed.

Jamie stood, hands on her hips, and bellowed, "All right, you lot! Listen up! Miss Clayton wants a word!"

The excited exchange of dozens of separate conversations died down to mutters and then to general silence. Jamie gave a mock little bow. Shooting her a grateful look, Dani lifted her voice to address the bus at large. “We’re going straight from the bus to the library! No running off the parking lot or the playground! When we’re inside, you’re going to follow the nice lady around the library for a tour and a presentation! Remember your groups, please! And no wandering off! If you want something, come to me or Miss Taylor! Okay?”

There came a chorus of begrudging agreement, and then they followed her off the bus. Jamie stood by her side on the footpath, the two of them watching students disembark and then promptly scamper off to find their friends as they all congregated outside the front of the building. Dani kept careful count of every head that passed. At one point a student ran into her and she simply guided him back towards the stream of others with a gentle set of hands at his shoulders.

"That way, honey," she said distantly, not paying attention as he mumbled a brief thank you before rushing off towards his group.

"So, this is what you do all day," said Jamie.

"Hmm?"

Arms crossed, Jamie watched her with a soft smile. She nodded towards Dani and said, "This. Herding cats."

The words finally registered and Dani gave a brief laugh, sparing Jamie a glance before she resumed her counting. "Mostly. Though at this point my clothes would be covered in chalk hand prints."

"School can't even afford to buy you towels?" Jamie clucked her tongue in faux admonishment. "Who's running this shit show anyway?"

"That would be me."

At the sound of a voice directly behind them, both Dani and Jamie jumped to attention and whirled around. Hannah was watching them with glittering amusement in her dark eyes. Today she was dressed in an earth tone tweed suit with sculpted brown boots clinging to her calves, leather polished to a mirror shine, so that she appeared to have just dismounted from horseback after a ride across some vast demesne.

Hannah held out her hand. "I don't believe we've had the pleasure, yet. Hannah Grose. School principal."

"Uh -" said Jamie as she shook Hannah's hand, looking as utterly lost for words as Dani had ever seen her.

"Jamie Taylor," Dani said for her.

There was a flash of recognition across Hannah's face. "Mikey's mother?"

"Sister," Jamie corrected. She pulled her hand away with a smile. "Sorry 'bout earlier. I was just -"

"Teasing," Hannah finished for her, gaze darting towards Dani. "Yes, I could see that."

"Dani mentioned you were the most put together woman she'd ever met," said Jamie with a gesture towards Hannah's outfit. "Can't say I disagree."

Hannah's smile grew warmer. "Miss Clayton is far too generous. Though, I'm sorry to say she hasn't told me much about you."

Dani could feel her cheeks grow hot. Her attention was divided in equal parts as she tried to pay attention to the conversation as well as to the last of her students disembarking and the bus driver waving at her in a silent query if he should go park. She craned her neck to ensure there were no kids running around the bus before nodding and waving him along. He flashed her a thumbs up, then shut the passenger door and put the bus into gear.

"Not much to say, really," the conversation was continuing beside her. Jamie had her hands jammed into the pockets of her baggy jacket. "Spent a lot of time here as a kid. Now I'm back."

"With that accent?" Hannah narrowed her eyes and made a thoughtful sound. "Nottingham?”

Jamie gave a derisive snort but she was grinning broadly. “Further up, you Southern softie.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t hold it against you,” Hannah said. “I actually wandered over to say thank you for volunteering.”

Jamie waved her away. “It’s no problem.”

“Even so. I’m glad Miss Clayton was able to convince you to come along.”

“I can never say no to her,” Jamie said and shot Dani a wink.

Hannah nodded sagely. “It’s the eyes.”

“What?” said Dani.

“Too pretty,” Jamie agreed.

“What?” Dani said again. Hannah and Jamie were watching her with identical expressions now, somehow both puckish and reserved. Dani rolled her eyes. “Okay. I’m going to go rally the troops. You two keep -” she made a flapping motion with her hand towards them “- being British.”

“Think we can manage?” Jamie asked Hannah, who shrugged.

“Depends on just how far north you meant.”

Jamie laughed.

Wandering over towards the building, Dani left them to it. Some of the kids had ignored instructions and were clinging to the monkey bars of the adjacent playground. Dani saw an unfortunate Jackie Pullman trying to coax them down without much luck. She considered helping, but stopped when another teacher joined in with far more success. Turning her attention instead towards a group sneaking around the back of the building, Dani headed them off. She was herding a cluster of grumbling kids back towards the front, when Jamie caught up with her again.

“No more Hannah?” Dani asked, then pointed sternly at the children. “You can explore outside after the tour inside. Go on!”

They sighed and ambled away to join the larger congregation. Jamie made a shooing motion towards them — one of the kids stuck his tongue out at her and Jamie returned the gesture much to his surprise — and after they’d gone she said, “She went to talk to the bus drivers to confirm something in the schedule.”

“That sounds like her.” Dani stood on her toes to get a better look over the area, checking for any students trying to sneak away from the others or otherwise cause mischief.

“Christ,” Jamie breathed and Dani turned to follow her gaze in the direction of the playground. “Is that Jackie?”

“The one and only,” Dani muttered. Jackie had given up on trying to corral kids and was now standing with her back towards them, hands on hips.

“She still with that dickhead? What’s his name?”

“Sterling?” Dani supplied helpfully. “Yeah. They’re married and have a kid. Want to say hi?”

Jamie made a face. “I’ll pass, thanks.”

As if she had overheard them, Jackie turned and saw them there. Dani lifted her hand in a half-hearted wave. Most times, her old school ground bully acted polite and charming in that sickly sweet way, like a passive aggressive suit of armor for social situations where the two of them had to pretend to hold a civil conversation for two minutes. Now however, Jackie’s eyes moved towards Jamie and her expression went utterly wooden.

“What’s that about?” Dani wondered aloud as Jackie stalked off, pretending she hadn’t seen them.

“No idea.” Jamie nudged Dani’s elbow with her own and jerked her head towards the front door. “C’mon. Let’s keep up.”

Puzzled, Dani let herself be led back to the rest of the group. She and Jamie shuffled along in everyone’s wake, Dani hanging in the back to ensure that everybody was well and truly inside before she followed suit.

“Do you want to find Mikey?” Dani asked Jamie at one point, but Jamie shook her head.

“Last thing he needs is his older sister hanging about while he’s with friends.”

“Cramping his style,” Dani said.

“Making him look thoroughly un-cool,” Jamie agreed, even as she slouched against the brick wall beside the open door looking artfully disheveled, as though she had meant for those unruly curls to escape from her devil-may-care updo. Dani considered tucking a stray strand of hair behind Jamie’s ear, but ultimately decided against the urge; it wouldn’t have improved her appearance, only detracted from it.

Instead Dani took Jamie's hand, and tugged her inside. Jamie came without a fuss, pulling Dani’s hand so she could tuck it and her own into the pocket of her baggy coat as they trailed behind the group further into the library. “Almost forgot your hands are always freezing no matter the weather,” she muttered.

The inside of Jamie’s pocket was warm, the material slightly scratchy. “Is that a piece of paper?” she asked, pinching something crumpled in Jamie’s pocket and pulling it free to reveal a five dollar bill. “Oh, nice.”

“Oi!” Jamie hissed.

She tried to snatch it back, but Dani transferred the bill between different hands until Jamie was trying to reach around to where Dani hid it behind her back. Dani pressed herself against a wall to keep Jamie from where the bill was wadded up in her hands at the base of her spine.

“Shh!” someone said.

They froze, glancing over to find that the librarian was delivering a welcome speech to the students. Dani could barely make her out at the end of the main room over the sea of heads. Biting back a grin, Dani relinquished the five dollars without further ado.

“I thought I was supposed to be the troublemaker,” Jamie said in a low tone as she crammed the bill back into her pocket.

Dani shrugged. “Can’t let you have all the fun.”

At that, Jamie snorted and shook her head. Reluctantly they turned their attention towards the speaker. The main room wasn’t much to write home about. A low slanted ceiling commanded the space. Rows of books filled up most of the hall, so that everyone was crowded together, every sneeze and errant murmur echoing dimly along the ceiling.

She couldn’t think of anywhere else she would rather be in this moment. Here. Crammed between a bookshelf and a garishly painted wall. Jamie pressed up so close against her that the head librarian’s voice seemed to fade into a distant murmur like the slough of wind through branches. Far enough back that nobody was looking at them, that nobody cared. Studying the line of Jamie's profile, the shadow of her eyelashes cast across her cheek like a smudge of charcoal from an errant touch. Inside, the lights were dimmed until only natural light drifted across the stacks. They stood, it seemed, in a pool of shade, watery sunlight slanting overhead like a pane of glass, motes of dust glimmering gold in the air.

Jamie twitched when she was still for too long. She shrugged her shoulders. She shifted her weight from foot to foot. She crossed her arms then uncrossed them again, glancing about the room in search of something to occupy her. With a charmed smile, Dani nudged the back of Jamie's hand with her own and Jamie blinked at her in confusion.

Dani bowed her head just slightly — that was all it took — to whisper in Jamie's ear, "Bored yet?"

Jamie had gone very still and from this angle Dani couldn't clearly see her expression. She could feel the warmth of Jamie's skin against the tip of her nose, and Jamie sucked in a breath. And then Jamie was turning her head, so that they stood close enough for Dani to count the new freckles splattered lightly across her cheeks.

Jamie arched an eyebrow at her as if in a challenge and murmured, "Half asleep already."

Jamie's grin was infectious. Dani could feel her own smile broaden, could feel the graze of their fingers, knuckles slipping past one another as she curled her hand. There was a warmth pooling in her chest, branching out against her ribs in a rush that was familiar and heady. The same feeling that stung Dani every time she allowed her eyes to follow a pretty waitress, every time she caught herself staring at a woman’s mouth, a woman’s hands, a woman’s knees, the drape of cloth across a woman’s shoulders. For a single mad moment Dani imagined closing the distance between them and kissing her, and the image sent a jolt of heat down her spine that was so startling she lurched back, breathless.

Jamie was watching her with a furrow in her brow. “You all right?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Dani said. “Yeah, no, I’m - I’m fine. I - uh -” she swallowed past a sick feeling welling up in her throat that just wouldn’t go away. “Excuse me. I need to -”

And feeling as though she were sinking down into the floor with every step, Dani slipped away, head down, eyes locked on the ground at her feet as if in a dream, as if sleepwalking. Her heart hammered against her ribs like it was trying to beat its way out of her chest. The tips of her fingers trembled. Her skin felt as though it were trying to slip off her arms like a pair of gloves. Dani tried to keep her breathing calm and level, but with every step it came short and fast, building up an all too familiar burn in her chest.

Dani rounded a corner and pushed open the clearly labelled bathroom door. The door creaked shut behind her. Standing before the center sink, every gasp of air a flicker of embers in her lungs, she twisted at the taps with shaking hands until water streamed into the sink, flecks splashing up along her forearms as she plunged her hands beneath the spray. The cold was shocking across the pulse at her wrist. She scrubbed her hands together then shut the taps off in order to grip the sides of the sink so hard the porcelain edges dug into her palms.

Leaning her weight against the sink, she struggled to get her breathing under control. She squeezed her eyes shut and focused on every inhale, every exhale, her chest hitching until — slowly — she felt the pressure ease like a fist uncurling around her sternum. Dani leaned back, hands loosening against the sink until they slipped free and fell to her sides. She opened her eyes, half expecting someone to be standing behind her — she hadn’t checked the stalls, had blindly rushed in — but the individual stall doors were open and empty.

There was only her. Panicked and tired, hollow-eyed and blotchy-cheeked.

Her breathing had settled, but her hands still trembled. She raked them through her hair, and the water clinging to her fingers left honey-darkened trails in their wake. One hand dropped back to her side, but the other rubbed at her damp cheeks and below her eyes before following suit.

She couldn’t want this, she thought faintly. This couldn’t be her, this person she hardly recognized. Smudged mascara around her eyes. Hair a slumped mess around her ears and shoulders. Her lungs no longer burned, but still Dani felt like she was only seconds away from losing that morning’s breakfast into the sink. Intermittent drip of the tap. The world was blurry at the edges as if the mirror was choked with steam, and Dani had to swallow down the hot threat of tears behind her eyes again.

Outside, she could hear the clamor resume. Young strident voices called out and the chaos of jumbled footsteps dispersed as the librarian’s presentation ended and the kids were all released to explore the premises as they pleased. Inhaling deeply, Dani steadied herself in the mirror. Her reflection squared her shoulders and her jaw. She yanked a paper towel from the wall dispenser and tidied up her mascara until she merely looked fresh-faced and not like she’d been on the brink of a total collapse, life crashing down around her ankles. Movements jerky, Dani crumpled up the paper towel and threw it away.

She couldn’t want this. She couldn’t want Jamie.

#thobm #the haunting of bly manor #damie #dani clayton #jamie taylor #dani/jamie #roman writes #cfau #bring home a haunting

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