“Maybe I could drive up to Maine and see if I could find him.” I focused hard on the curlicues of the rug pattern.
Sebastian removed his glasses, cleaning them with his shirttail. It was peculiar to see his face unobscured by lenses—it diluted the professor-like persona that I’d attributed to him.
“How long would it take to drive up there?”
“About seven hours. I’d leave early in the morning and then come back the next day.”
“But what will you do if you find him?”
“I’m not sure yet.” I was embarrassed I hadn’t planned that far. “I was going to figure it out on my way there. But maybe, if I do find him, I could arrange a phone call with Claudia—if they’re both open to it.”
“I don’t know. It could be just opening up a can of worms, especially with my family.”
“Right, I get that.” It was his grandmother, so it was his decision. I was presumptuous for letting myself get caught up in it all. “Never mind—it was a stupid suggestion anyway.”
“It’s just a lot to wrap my head around.” He slid his glasses back on. “It’s a whole side of Grandma I never knew about. Can I think about it?”
“Of course,” I said, grateful for a reprieve from the conversation. “I’ve got to get home anyway. I guess I’ll talk to you later.”
I hurried down the staircase, my mind weighing the possibilities. I could still go without him knowing. By the time I reached the sidewalk, I was already googling rental car rates, my adrenaline racing at there being even the slightest chance I might find Hugo. Sylvie was going to be so excited.
“Clover, hang on a second.”
I looked up to see Sebastian shutting the heavy front door of the townhouse behind him.
I stuffed my phone into my pocket, hoping there was no way he could tell I’d already decided to go against his wishes.
“Yes?”
He descended the stoop and kept his voice low. “I think you should do it—I think you should go to Maine.”
The moths started fluttering in my stomach. “Really?”
“Yes,” he said, firmly. “If there’s a way we can help Grandma find peace, we have to at least try it. She deserves some happiness.”
“That’s great!” I almost hugged him but stopped myself.
Exhilaration shone in Sebastian’s eyes. “And I’m coming with you.”
36
I stood in the treat aisle of the pet store, paralyzed with indecision. Would Lionel prefer a seafood medley or a party mix? He was such a fickle cat that he’d probably turn his nose up at both.
I couldn’t waste any more time on it. Sebastian was picking me up early the next morning and I needed to get home and pack. So I grabbed the seafood medley, plus some jerky chews for George and a jingling stuffed octopus toy for Lola (unlike the rest of us, she wasn’t food-motivated). The offerings would distract them all from my absence over the next forty-eight hours—and hopefully Leo wouldn’t mind walking George a couple of times while I was gone. But then again, Leo had been walking so slowly lately that I thought maybe I should ask Sylvie. She and George were obsessed with each other anyway.
I rushed through the self-checkout—no time to politely endure cashier small talk—only to be delayed by a stocky man and his Saint Bernard trying unsuccessfully to use the revolving door together. Even though it was obviously logistically impossible, they kept trying. I bounced on my toes waiting, trying not to glare at them.
When I made it outside after their fourth attempt, I stopped abruptly.
In front of the café next door, a woman stood waiting, hunched into her camel coat while scrolling through her phone.
Julia.
With only a few feet between us, I realized just how many details my decades-old binoculars had missed: the light smattering of freckles across her cheekbones, the fullness of her bottom lip, her slightly crooked nose. It was like I’d only ever seen her in 2D.
Was she waiting for Reuben? Panic rippled through my body as I searched for a place to hide. A mailbox was the only option and I was already standing so close to Julia that any sudden movement would make me seem creepier than I already felt. Clutching the paper bag of treats tighter, I concentrated on keeping my footsteps unremarkable, praying she’d stay engrossed in her phone and I could just walk by unnoticed.
Also unnoticed: the hole in the corner of the paper bag, just big enough for Lola’s bell-stuffed octopus to shimmy through and bounce onto the sidewalk in front of Julia.
She looked up from her phone, alerted by the jingling sound. Seeing the fluorescent-pink stuffed octopus at her feet, she bent down to pick it up.
I stood frozen. There might have been a flicker of recognition in her eyes as she handed me the toy, but I couldn’t be sure.
“My cat has one of those too,” Julia said, confirming what I already knew. “I bet yours will love it.”
My muscles softened enough for me to take the toy and form a smile that I hoped was in no way creepy. “Oh, thanks—I hope so … she’s kind of picky.”
Julia’s own sunny smile revealed her uneven bottom teeth—another detail I’d never caught. She turned her attention back to her phone.
Instead of sprinting the rest of the way down the block like I desperately wanted to, I kept my pace normal. But I didn’t let myself turn around until I’d reached the corner, where I pretended to stop and tie my shoelace so I could take one more look.
Julia was waving to someone across the street.
I held my breath—maybe I’d finally get to see Reuben and Julia together without several layers of glass between us. In the wild, so to speak.
But as I watched the scene unfold, my brain struggled to process the disparate parts coming together, like it was happening in slow motion. The person who crossed the street to greet Julia with an unmistakably passionate kiss was definitely someone I recognized.
But that someone was not Reuben.
It was Sylvie.
Suddenly, my coat felt too hot, too constricting, like the suffocating central heating of department stores in the dead of winter. The grating of a jackhammer against pavement, which I’d barely noticed moments earlier, now felt like an assault on my eardrums.
Without thinking, I ran.
George, Lola, and Lionel watched with alarm as I barreled through my front door and went straight to the windows. I yanked down the blinds—I didn’t want to know what was going on in the apartment opposite. As I collapsed onto the sofa, I recognized the searing ache from my solar plexus to my gut—I’d felt it before.
Betrayal.
Julia and Reuben were the one emotional constant I had in my life. I’d seen their love expressed so clearly in their mannerisms, their routines. They were the one piece of evidence I had that real, romantic love existed beyond screens. And it was all a lie.
What hurt even more was that it was all happening with someone I’d trusted. I’d revealed so much of myself to Sylvie—my fears about love, my nonexistent sexual history, the kiss with Sebastian. Parts of myself I’d worked so hard to keep hidden. But she’d told me nothing. I didn’t even know she was in a new relationship. What kind of friendship was that?
I pushed my forehead against my palms, wishing I could delete the memory of what I’d seen. But sitting still only made me more anxious. I began pacing laps around my living room, ignoring the concern on my pets’ faces.
Unsure how else to calm myself, I did the thing I knew best. I switched off my emotions, pushing them away until I felt numb, and I refocused on the one thing I could control: finding Hugo for Claudia.