Page 15 of The Lonely Hearts Guide

Jared lived in Dallas. So did someone else, Elliot thought, though he couldn’t remember who. Why was he having so much trouble remembering the shadow character in his head? First the plum jam cookies, then Dallas. It’s like some cut out bits of his brain containing terribly important memories and replaced it with cake frosting, leaving only the sugary remnants of what might have been. If only Elliot could remember what it was that might have been.

The cookie! Elliot had been holding onto it for dear life, waiting for the perfect moment to indulge. He’d never eaten solid foods—that’s what his internal processor was telling him, at least. Though Elliot couldn’t pinpoint the memory, something deep inside of him was screaming out that he ate one before, and it was the greatest moment of his short life.

Elliot carefully removed the cookie’s cellophane wrapper and smiled down at it. He waited so long to taste it. The jam dollop in the center was calling out to him, begging Elliot to taste.

He brought the cookie closer to his face and sniffed softly, so as not to inhale a cookie crumb. The scent was almost gone, but there were still traces of sugary sweetness left behind. He’d been waiting so long to try it, but Elliot still couldn’t bring himself to indulge. Eating the cookie would mean he had nothing left to hold on to. No tether to those foggy memories he couldn’t seem to jog. He wanted to eat the cookie, but he didn’t want to forget that there was something he needed to remember. So, with a heavy heart and shaking hands, Elliot wrapped the cookie once more and slid it into his pocket, packing it away for a rainy day.

“So,” Arthur finally said, his voice calm as he turned to face Elliot. He looked down at Elliot’s baby bump. “When did this happen?”

Elliot forced a smile. “Three months.” That’s what Jared told him just days before his grand escape, when Elliot’s memory hit a blip. The math didn’t make much sense to him, though, because when he’d gone to Sugarplum Island for plum jam cookies, he’d been thin as a rake, and that was only earlier in the week. But then, there were other flashes from a timeline that made little sense to Elliot. Weeks and weeks of invasive tests at Jared’s expense, performed by Mother. When did those tests happen? He had no fixed point in his memory, simply a vague recollection. With shame and a sense of failure fresh in his heart, Elliot quietly added, “I cannot have this child. Master Price, he . . . he is not a kind man.”

“Oh, Elliot,” Periwinkle whispered, taking his hand.

“I’ve run away from home,” Elliot said with a sniffle. “Please do not tell Master Price where I am. He’ll be very cross with me.”

Periwinkle squeezed his hand. “Jared Price can go straight to Hell.”

“You know how I feel about swearing,” Mrs. Peppercorn scolded.

Periwinkle blushed. “Sorry, Mum.”

“I can’t go back. Not me. Not my . . . my baby,” Elliot whispered. His mind went to places he knew it shouldn’t. Visions of the pain Jared inflicted upon him. Pain he would more than likely deliver to their child. He couldn’t allow that to happen. He wouldn’t. When Elliot opened his eyes, there were tears welled in the corners, ready to spill. “Please? Please, you must help me.” Elliot was frantic. Desperate to escape the situation he was forced into. He didn’t want Jared’s child. He didn’t want Jared’s anything. All Elliot had ever wanted was to love and be loved in return. Why did Jared make that impossible? Would it have killed Jared to show kindness? Would it have put a damper on his day? He grabbed Periwinkle’s wrist. “I can’t go back. May I please stay with you?”

Periwinkle and Arthur shared a look, then looked around their small library annex.

Elliot felt like a fool. Of course, they didn’t have room for him. Who did? Who would even want to make room for him? Elliot forced a smile to keep himself from crying, because he was closer than he’d ever been to breaking down and sobbing uncontrollably. He couldn’t rely on Periwinkle for protection. Elliot knew it was a long shot when he boarded the bus, but seeing the men silently contemplating how to tell him “no” felt like a punch to the gut, and Elliot knew all about gut punches. He’d received enough of them to last him a lifetime.

Elliot closed his eyes and took a breath, steadying his emotions. As mother once told him, no one would ever want to associate with a househusband prone to hysteria, and he was having such a lovely time with these fascinating new women in his life.

“Please, forget I said anything. I was only joking. I’m just here for a friendly visit,” Elliot attempted, but he was fairly confident everyone at the table saw past the lie. He stood from his chair, wanting to bow out gracefully before his new friends saw him for the failure he truly was. Maybe Jared was right. Perhaps it was all Elliot’s fault no one stuck around, and he truly was the most common denominator. It’s possible the last three cooks truly quit because of Elliot’s incessant chatter during the day. And maybe the housekeepers truly resigned because Elliot would follow them around, desperate for company.

Everyone left.

Why did everyone always have to leave?

“Elliot,” Periwinkle whispered, squeezing his shoulder.

“I’ve had such a lovely chat,” Elliot said, his voice breaking. “I hope we can do it again sometime.” He wanted that. He wanted it so much. “I truly hope so. But I’ll be off; Jared will be expecting me.”

Someone’s palm slammed against the small table they’d been sitting at, and when he looked down, Mrs. Peppercorn’s hand was flat on the surface, and she had a commanding presence about her. “Sit down, young man.”

Elliot’s jaw trembled. He needed to get out of there, because if he didn’t, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold on. “I really must be going.”

Mrs. Peppercorn shook her head. Looking over at Princess, Mrs. Peppercorn barked, “Shove over.” Princess smiled and nodded, standing and offering Elliot her chair. Though he was frightened, Elliot pushed past that fear, and took the seat he was offered. “Elliot, sweetheart, do you really want to go home?” Elliot opened his mouth to assure her he was fine, but she shook her head. “Don’t lie to me. I’ll know.”

Periwinkle nodded. “It’s true. She’s an intuitive empath, whatever that means. I think it might be witchcraft, but I’ve been too frightened she’ll turn me into a toad to ask.”

Mrs. Peppercorn rolled her eyes. “Double double, the tramp’s about to be in trouble if he doesn’t watch that tone.” She turned and smiled at Elliot. “The point is, I know you don’t want to go home, baby. It’s written all over your face, clear as day.” Mrs. Peppercorn took Elliot’s hand and, oh, the way his heart ached for more. He couldn’t remember the last time someone touched him without inflicting pain, and Elliot wanted to hold on tight and refuse to let go. “Has he hurt you, baby?”

Elliot’s jaw wobbled, and he couldn’t get any words out, but he managed to nod.

“Oh, sugar,” she softly cooed. “And you’re worried he’ll do the same to your baby?” Elliot nodded again. Mrs. Peppercorn looked around the table, speaking to Arthur, Periwinkle, and Princess. “We’re Auxiliary. Auxiliary sticks together.” It felt as if she was reminding them of some near-forgotten law. “So we’ll do the same thing we did when Ms. Broussard tried to confiscate Periwinkle. We’ll figure it out. We’ll find a way.”

“We’ll take care of you,” Periwinkle added, placing his hand on top of Elliot’s and looking into his eyes. “We won’t say a word if Jared comes looking for you.”

Arthur nodded. “Peri’s right. You’re safe now, Elliot. I’m sorry I never stood up for you before.” He placed his hand on top of Periwinkle’s. “I’ll stand up for you now. We’ll do whatever it takes to get you through this.”

“Because you’re family now,” Mrs. Peppercorn declared, placing her hand on top of Arthur’s. “And family helps.”

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