Page 124 of Everything's Coming Up Rosie

Marnie:??

Maya:Backstage tour, Ro?

Rosie:Of course. But, guys, this show might be a little different than what you’re expecting...

Marnie:This show is going to be beautiful because our talented best friend directed it.

Taylor:And we can’t wait to see it!

Maya:I’m going to cheer so loud they’re going to have to have me removed.

Rosie:You’re all nuts.

And I love you.

Chapter 34

An hour later, I find Arthur in his tiny office off the back of the scene shop. To everyone else, it probably looks like he’s working, but I see this for what it is—hiding.

“You’ve been in here for a while—is there really that much paperwork?”

“You want to open on time, don’t you?” His bark is back, and I wish I knew why.

“What’s going on?” I ask quietly, knowing he probably won’t give me an answer. “Bertie said you told her you don’t want to see her anymore.”

He barely acknowledges me.

I dare a step toward him, looking around the small, dank space. “It’s depressing in here.”

“It’s peaceful.” He looks at me. “At least it was.”

I glare at him, but he doesn’t notice because he’s gone back to clicking buttons on his computer. “I’m not scared of you anymore.”

He makes a face at me.

“And I want to know why you told Bertie you don’t want to see her.” I move a stack of books off the only other chair in the space and sit.

His muscles tense. “None of your business.”

“You like her, Arthur.” I lean in. “And she likes you. What’s the problem?”

“The problem!” He spins toward me but snaps his jaw shut thesecond his eyes meet mine. I see hurt nesting there, the threat of unshed tears pooling in his eyes. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

I nod. “I understand. As you know, I don’t like to share my feelings either.”

“Good, because I don’t want you to.” He turns back to his computer, but it’s obvious he’s not really seeing the screen.

I cross one leg over the other and force myself not to shy away. Because Arthur told me I have the ability to connect with people—on a personal level. And right now, I think I’m supposed to connect with him.

“You know”—I lay it on a bit thick—“Averywise man told me that I’m a deep feeler. He said I avoid emotions because I feel them more deeply than other people.”

Arthur stops pecking on the computer keys.

“He also told me that in order to make anyone else feel anything, I have to feel it first.” The second the words are out, my gaze drops to the chipping paint on my toenails.

If I look at him, I’ll lose my nerve. And there’s something I need to tell him.

“When I was six, my father left,” I say. “I still don’t really know why. When you’re older, and you think back to when it all happened, your brain sort of... makes up all kinds of things. I know he and my mother were too young to try and raise a child. I guess I give him credit for lasting that long.”

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