I feel, rather than see Jonah’s surprise at my question. “I am splitting my time between the house in California and the apartment here in Annar. Part of why I wanted to stop by is to let you know I’m slated to go off on a mission in Belize in the next few days; I’ll be gone for at least a month. I’m to introduce some new species I’ve been working on in the rain forests there.”
She hasn’t told me about her missions since I moved to Annar two years ago.
Her fingers curl in and out as they twist together in her lap, reminding me of hand games Cora, Lizzie, and I used to play as children. “I wanted to let you know I’ll have my cell phone with me if you ...” A pause accompanies a glance toward the plant. “Have any questions about the plant I gave you.”
Oh.
“Or even just want to talk.”
Oh.
I want to ask her where Dad is staying if he’s not with her, but she stands up, smoothing her slacks. “Thank you for the tea. I better get going; I have a dinner engagement I must go to in the next hour that I should get ready for.”
I stand up, too. It’s lame, but all I can manage is, “Thanks for the plant, have a safe trip,” because I genuinely have no idea what else to say.
She touches my shoulder, just tips of fingers grazing the cotton of my blouse. And then she’s gone.
“Uh, what was that?” Jonah asks me once the door closes shut.
I drop onto the couch next to him. “I have no idea. I actually have not a single clue.”
“Am I misunderstanding this, or did your parents split up?”
I tuck my legs under me. “I think so.”
He’s just as stunned as me. “Wow.” And it’s funny that we’re both shaken by this revelation, because I’m not the only one who witnessed my parents’ cold marriage in action. Jonah lived with us in high school for a little bit and saw it on a daily basis.
It’s highly unethical for me to pry, but I can’t help but ask, “What was she feeling? Did she give you a hint about whether or not she’s upset?”
He considers this. “No, not by the separation. I do think she’s upset, though—and I think it has to do with you. Your mother is finally seeing things a little more clearly nowadays. She’s disappointed in herself. She also knows that sometimes we must own our decisions, and that too little, too late is applicable far too often.”
As always, I marvel at how nuanced Jonah’s craft is and at how good he is at it. “She brought us a plant, Jonah.”
His smile is adorably crooked alongside his dimple. “She brought you a plant.”
“Nitpicker.” Still. It’s absurd, but I want to hug the damn thing. Just hold it close. It’ll never be just a plant to me, or the first housewarming gift I ever received.
It’ll always be living proof of my mother’s love.
Will wanders up the new staircase later that afternoon with a plate of cookies. I practically tear it from his hands and devour almost all of them nearly just as quickly.
He’s amused. “Some of those were for Jonah, too.”
Will’s oatmeal chocolate chip cookies are the best. Okay, not as good as his pancakes, but still pretty close. “He snoozes, he loses. We’re still waiting for that grocery shipment, I’ll have you know. All that we have is coffee and a bottle of wine Astrid gifted us with last night.”
“You should have called. I made pancakes this morning for Dad and Kellan. It would have been no problem to make you two some, too.”
I have never been as irrationally annoyed with Will as I am in this moment. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“So sorry if I thought I’d not interrupt you two during the first morning in your new place. For all I knew, you two were ...” His grin is inappropriately naughty. “Tired from a long night of unpacking.”
My cheeks flame at his innuendo. “Oh my gods, Will. Just ... stop.”
Truth be told, I think I fell asleep while hanging clothes in my closet late last night. The last thing I remember is pulling clothes out of a box; the next was waking up in an empty bed. Jonah was already in the office on a videoconference, working from home since he isn’t willing to leave the apartment or me alone quite yet.
Will chuckles before pulling out his cell phone. “Hold on. Let me call Dad and tell him to get on the horn about food. Where did you guys order from, Timbuktu?”
I’m forced to scrape crumbs off the plate when my conscience gets the better of me. I leave Jonah the last three cookies.
That reminds me. I need to call Caleb and catch up. Invite him over. Pick his brain about how somebody or something could have gotten into my mind so easily.
“I should have a housewarming party,” I announce when Will gets off the phone.
“The food will be here in less than an hour.” He slides his phone back into his pocket. “Now, what? Are you mad? I can’t possibly see a housewarming party being practical.”
“Why not? It’s not like this is a prison and I an inmate.”
He wanders into my kitchen, opening up the empty cabinets. “Of course you aren’t. Nobody says you are. But you were recently attacked and beaten unconscious at your last party.”
“Gee, thanks for the reminder. I still don’t see how that prohibits me from having a party.”
“Do you want me to arrange the kitchen for you?”