Page 16 of Lotus

Is that asshole hung up on me again? Did I piss him off, and this is him trying to scare me?

I glance around, the only sound penetrating my thick fog of fear being the distant noise of traffic and my own erratic heartbeat. I debate calling 9-1-1 and hiding out at Lorna’s house until the cops get here, but my dislike for Lorna trumps my terror, and I really don’t want to bother Oliver if I’m just being paranoid. Pushing open the door, my feet make their way inside. “Hello?”

My voice is small and feeble, and I hate myself for it. I’m strong. I’m independent. I’m a fighter who takes shit from no one.

No one except for the ominous intruder who might be hiding under my bed.

Double shit.

I suck in a choppy breath, holding out one of the keys on my keychain like a makeshift weapon. My eyes scan my living room, checking for disturbances. Nothing seems out of place.

Maybe Iamjust being paranoid. Maybe Ididn’tlock the door behind me, having been distracted by my sister and our chatter about Oliver.

I know I locked that damn door.

Replacing my keychain with a steak knife from the kitchen, I traipse through the house, feeling like an idiotic damsel in one of those cheesy horror films.

Run. Get out of the house. Call the police.

No! Don’t go up the stairs.

What a damn fool.

But I’m embarrassed to call the police when I have no real proof of a break-in.

When everything looks to be copacetic, I let out the breath I’ve been holding onto and make my way into my office. My laptop is powered on, which unnerves me. I’m almost positive I shut it down this afternoon after responding to my e-mails.

But I’m not certain.

I set the knife down on my desk, and I’m about to turn to leave, when something catches my eye. My attention fixates to the window, the blinds still open, giving me a perfect view into Oliver’s illuminated bedroom.

I step forward and realize… he’s drawing on the walls.

Characters and scenes come to life as he puts pencil to plaster and creates something that looks like a picture book. Oliver is propped up on his knees, his back to me, his face close to the wall as he concentrates on his art. I’m impressed by his talent—even from here, many feet away, I can appreciate his attention to detail. The shadowing, the facial features, the vivid scenery.

He’s good. Very good.

I kneel down in front of the windowsill, pushing open the pane of glass and resting on my arms. I watch Oliver draw, create, release. I watch him work, and it fills me with something hopeful and sweet.

I’m not sure how much time goes by when he finally turns around, scratching his head and tossing the pencil to the floor. He’s about to move out of frame, over to the bed, maybe… but he falters. His head pops up and he twists toward me, almost like he felt me, our eyes locking instantly.

The air traps in my throat, catching and holding.

He’s caught me staring at him. Watching him. Invading his privacy. Part of me wants to close the blinds and pretend he never saw me—pretend I wasn’t soaking up every pencil stroke, or the way the muscles in his back twitched and tensed as he focused on his mural.

But his eyes nail me down, securing me in place, giving me away. I’m transported back in time to when we’d look at each other through this same window, smiles on our faces, stories on our tongues, and mischief in our eyes. He’s that same little boy, and I’m that same little girl, and we are untouchable.

We hold our gaze for a long time, unable to break the invisible tether. I drink him in, from his tired eyes to his messy hair, to the rumpled clothing from the boxes in my attic. I try to pretend how things would be if he hadn’t disappeared for twenty-two years, if he hadn’t suffered through horrors that we only read about in fiction novels. I wonder what Oliver Lynch would be like right now, on this very day, standing in his window, facing mine.

I muster up a smile, despite the pang of heartache I feel cinching my chest.

And then I close the blinds.

F I V E

“IBROUGHT YOU THESE.”

I curl up into my sleeping bag beside the special lamp Bradford gave me. He said it will keep me healthy in the same way sunshine would. I'm learning a lot about health lately as I research exercise and nutrition, and I always remember to take the vitamins Bradford gives me with breakfast.

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