“I’m back,” Gwen yelled, running back to us with all her might. When she reached us she almost jumped on me, rising up in order to put a hat over my head. Shocked at how close she was to me, I froze as she concentrated on tucking all my hair inside it. It was only when she backed up that I was able to think straight again.
“Looks good,” she said as she whipped her head down, packing as much of her hair as she could into a messy bun. She took a silk scarf and wrapped it around her head.
“Better?” she asked Molly, and it for the first time I realized how she must have felt being stuck in a wheelchair with a scarf over her head.
Molly nodded, but didn’t say anything.
“Ms. Molly, will you take a picture with me?” she asked her, taking the camera off her neck.
“Yes. Dr. Eli, come on.” Molly smiled.
“Yeah, Dr. Eli.” Guinevere pulled me around the wheelchair with her.
“I’ll take it, my arm is longer.” I took the camera from her hand and both of our hands lingered too long on each other’s.
I couldn’t help but stare at her, and without thinking I reached over to brush back a strand of hair that had escaped from the scarf.
“Thanks,” she whispered, looking away from me and patting down the side of her hair to make sure I had gotten it all.
“Okay.” I looked toward the camera, my face next to Molly’s. “One. Two. Three.”
“Pixie dust,” Guinevere said at the click.
“Pixie dust?” Molly turned to her.
“Yep. It’s made of happy thoughts and it can make you fly.” She pretended to sparkle some all over her face before her brown eyes shot up to me.
Lift her! she mouthed to me.
Following her orders, I did.
“Haha!” Molly giggled, holding on to me.
Thank God she was finally starting to sound like she was having fun.
All thanks to Guinevere.
“Gwen?”
“Stevie, you’re back! What took you so long?” she said, walking over to woman with red hair and hazel green eyes, Taigi at her feet.
“I would like to introduce you to my friends Dr. Eli and Ms. Molly. You’re going to need a scarf if you are going to hang with us. Right, Ms. Molly?” Guinevere held her high.
Molly nodded happily in my arms. “Yep!”
“I’m gone for ten minutes and you’ve found pretty attractive friends all by yourself.” Stevie put her hands on her hips.
“What can I say? I’m just cool like that,” she said, leaning her hand on my shoulder. It felt like she was burning a hole through my shirt, her body was so hot. I was oddly aware of it there and missed whatever they were giggling about.
“Is that okay, Doctor?” Guinevere asked me, standing on her own.
“Huh?”
“Train,” Molly answered, pointing. “I can ride the train, right?”
“Sure.”
“Let’s go before the kid in the Batman t-shirt steals the front.” Guinevere lifted her easily from my hands.
I just stood there dumbfounded, watching them, my mind still reeling. Where had she come from? How had she gotten there? And most importantly, how did she have the ability to completely change the atmosphere like that?
“Are you all right?” Her friend Stevie stood beside me, wrapping her head with a green scarf she must have just bought. Taigi sat still on the ground.
“You two seem close. Has she always been like this?” I asked as we walked toward the red, yellow, and black train that could barely fit more than two people in each row.
“Yep. That’s Gwen,” she said like she knew exactly what I was saying. “I’ve know her for all my life and I can’t explain it. It’s like she’s—”
“Perfectly imperfect, and the more you at look her the more confused you become but even still you can’t look away.”
“Wow,” she replied.
“What?”
“Nothing, I’m going to catch the next train with them,” she said, walking off. She stopped, looked me over again, and shook her head before walking toward them.
“What did I say?”
Taigi barked like he knew the answer.
Chapter Ten
Something Borrowed and Blue
Guinevere
“Why! Why am I like this?” I cried, trying to wiggle myself out of the damn dress. The zipper was broken, and it was not budging for anything. Glancing at myself in the mirror, I sighed. “You're an idiot, Gwen,” I whispered as my phone rang. “Eli, this isn’t a good time,” I answered.
“If you ever beg me for my book, or any of my wine again—”
“Wait!” I tried to move to my door, but I tripped slightly on the hem of my dress, knocking my desk over.
“What are you doing?”
Lifting it up at the bottom, I quickly walked out of my bedroom. “Just put the book and bottle by the door—”
“You want me to what?”
Urgh. “I’m having a moment. Just put—”
“Are you crying?”
“No, I’m not crying!”
“Guinevere—”
Annoyed, and without thinking, I pulled open the door. “Eli, I’m not crying.”
His blue-green eyes wandered down the strapless mermaid wedding dress I wore, then back up to my face.
I wanted to slam the door in his face I was so embarrassed, but I knew that would only make it ten times worse.