Page 27 of Waiting for Gilbert

I stomp my foot on the hardwood floor and release a childish scream. Gilbert’s eyebrows jump. He’s about to laugh at me again. Before he has the chance, I spring forward and poke my mitten covered finger into his cheek. “You’re not taking this seriously.”

He slowly pushes my duffle into my chest, and I step back. And back and back as he advances. I refuse to take the bag, and he raises an eyebrow.

“Here’s what’s going to happen, CJ. You’re going to lie down. I’m going to the big house. And we’re both going to sleep in our separate rooms.”

My thighs bump the edge of the bed, and I angle to the side to avoid being pushed over. “I won’t be able to sleep because I’ll be picturing your cold, lifeless form turned blue after the shivers finish wracking your body and your heart locks up because your blood turned into a cherry slushie.” I pivot around Gilbert, and now his back is to the bed. With enough force that my boot skids on the floor, I shove against the bag he’s still holding. “Just say no to hypothermia.”

He plops on the mattress—by choice, not because I was strong enough to make him. “You’re that worried?”

“It’s not camping weather, Gilbert! Look it up.” I jut my hip out and cross my arms.

With arms resting on the bag on his lap, he unlocks his phone. His shoulders slump and he drags a hand down his face. “Fifteen below and dropping. Windchill negative forty-five.”

Hello, Nebraska! You’d think that would be enough to convince anyone. But he purses his lips and stares through me in deep thought. What is with this determined show of chivalry? It’s four in the morning, dude. Go to sleep already.

I unzip my puffy purple coat. “Are you afraid I’ll bother you during the night?”

He chuckles. “I’m sure I could fend you off. No, I just?—”

Dipped eyebrows and a sigh express his deep anguish.

“Just like that?” I noisily suck a lungful of air to add to his theatrics. “So confident! For all you know, I have a black belt in Kung Fu Karate.” My hands slice the air in a very convincing demonstration.

“Well.” His expression softens into a tired smile. “Now we all know you’re full of lies and have never trained a day in your life.”

“Tae Kwon Do?” I pause after a sidekick and turn my head to face him.

“Pick one.” He stifles a yawn. “Maybe you meant Tai Chi or Jiu-jitsu?”

“All of them.” I wave my hands erratically. “The fighting with the martial arts! I have a black belt in taking down tough guys. I break boards with my head.”

“Okay, sure. You’re a mighty warrior. I’m convinced.”

“Good. So you know I can take care of myself if anyone tries something.” With an expressive show of strength, I grab the trash bag with my bedding and rip it open with my bare hands. Working quickly, because he’s sitting on the bed and this is the only chance I’ll get, I toss my pillow at the head of the mattress and push my finger against the brown canvas of his coat. He holds against the pressure.

For the first time since we’ve met, I don’t have to tip my head to look up into his eyes. His gaze holds mine, and I don’t know what he’s thinking. It could be, “How soon can we order a pizza?” or “Is there a different path Alice should have taken through the Tulgey Wood that would have bypassed the Mad Hatter’s tea party?”

Oh, please. The only crazy person thinking those thoughts is me—and I already know there’s no place in town that delivers pizza. Pity, that.

He finds his answers or gives up because he slumps sideways onto the pillow. A quiet groan escapes, and a grin spreads across his face with his eyes closed. “I’m afraid. I’d better go to my own house to be safe.”

“Shh. Rest for a minute, then you can go freeze if you really want to.”

In a matter of seconds his breathing grows heavy, and his face relaxes. Boots on the floor, coat zipped to his chin, and injured arm slung over my duffle bag like a teddy bear, he’s asleep. I’m not surprised. Give me three seconds with my eyes closed, and I’ll be there. I’ve officially been awake for twenty-three hours.

Good. Grief.

I roll the fancy heater box into the bedroom and make use of the bathroom. I remember to turn off my phone to ensure I won’t have any alarms going off in an hour. A notification for nine unread messages snags my attention.

Mark: Are you okay?

Mark: Please tell me you’re sleeping and not kidnapped.

Mark: Hey! ARE YOU ALIVE?

Mark: I’m glad you called and got me riled up before you went missing. This is going to be awful when I’m the last witness and should have called the cops. With my luck, they won’t start a search until you’ve been gone for 24hrs.

Mark: I’m going back to bed. Please tell me you’re not dead.

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