Page 66 of Unwanted

“What could you have possibly bought?” I type the words for Lennox as I ask the question to Remy. A thought seizes me and I narrow my eyes at Remy. “It better not be a sex toy.”

He laughs loudly. “I can assure you it is not a sex toy.”

“Well, not exactly,” Clem teases.

“I bet you all don’t give Arlo this much shit,” I state while continuing to include Lennox in the conversation.

“That’s because you’re the only one who can give Arlo shit,” Lennox answers out loud. “In four years that hasn’t changed.”

“And neither have his feelings for you,” Clem adds. “He was very insistent that we were all home when you arrived so you knew how happy we were to have you here. To have you back with us.” She places her hand on my bicep and squeezes. “That doesn’t sound like someone who’s over you.”

Simultaneously I process her words and feel a little bit uncomfortable talking about Arlo and his feelings when he isn’t here. I grab my bag off the floor and walk farther inside, perusing my surroundings, curious to see if much has changed.

Just like the five of us, some of it had and some of it hadn’t.

The mismatched furniture we spent weeks trying to find in thrift stores and at garage sales is all still here. But there is now statement-like pieces, showing off the things they were accumulating over time and the people each one of them had grown to be.

There is a desk that housed a laptop, and a bookshelf that is bursting at the seams with a variation of what looks like self-help books, thrillers, and college textbooks.

In the opposite corner there was a compact home gym set up that seemed too small for the man Arlo had become, but it was still a spot that I imagine held the highest of importance to him.

I continue to gaze around the rest of the room and that’s when I notice the ridiculous number of candles everywhere.

“Did someone buy shares in a candle company?”

Grabbing the TV remote off the coffee table, Remy throws himself across the couch and Lennox ends up squashing himself next to him. “Clem thinks we smell, so she’s forever buying and lighting candles.”

“I don’tthinkyou smell,” she says. “You smell. It’s a fact.”

I was thoroughly entertained, and a feeling of peace and contentment washed over me as I took a seat on the single recliner and watched the three of them bicker.

Lennox’s hearing loss wasn’t even an issue with the way they interacted. They were so in sync, even with their disjointed sign language and made-up hand gestures, he almost always knew what they were going to say before they said it.

In my hand my cell vibrates, startling me out of my reverie. Even though I can see Lennox isn’t the one texting me, I’m more than surprised when Arlo’s name pops up on my screen.

Arlo: I hope you settled in okay. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there.

Me: I haven’t been here long, but so far, so good.

Me: No need to apologize, you’re working.

Arlo: I wanted to be there.

Me: I know.

Arlo: I’ll bring dinner.

Me: I’ll be here.

The smile that spreads across my face is so big and wide I should be embarrassed. But even with an excessive number of butterflies in my stomach and a knowing glance from Clem, I can’t seem to care.

Feeling like I’m on cloud nine, I quickly type out a text to Lennox telling him I’m going to unpack what I brought and then head off to retrieve the rest of my stuff from my rental.

Reading it, he gives me a subtle nod and I rise from the seat and head for the door.

It takes me two trips to grab my suitcase and the whiteboard I bought for our nightly makeshift ASL classes, and when I walk into my old room, the laugh that bubbles out of my mouth is loud and incredulous.

“Are you kidding me?”

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