Page 57 of Left-Hand Larceny
“I should just stop talking.”
My chuckle cuts off her spiraling. Her mouth snaps shut, and she shoots me an embarrassed look. I imagine her at the gala, wearing something hot pink, laughing and lighting up the room. My chest aches with the realization that she won’t be there with me. I don’t care how many people will be packed like sardines into the ballroom. I don’t care how many hands I’ll have to shake, and questions I’ll have to answer. I’d go to a Gala a day if I could have her on my arm. But we made a deal, and asking her to go as mine would cross a line.
“P-please continue.”
She leans back, her hands finally down from her face. Her shoulders shift as she takes a deep breath. “I like to plan conversations in advance. I know it’s weird, but I thought maybe we could practice some for then? Or any other date you go on?”
Bill’s birthday is soon, but preseason starts this week. Anything we practice now is going to go in one ear and out the other, but I don’t dare point that out. Sadie is glowing at me from across the scratched table. Confident, happy, the babbling gone. She could ask to wax my groin and I’d probably say yes.
Scratch that.
I’d definitely say yes.Plus, if I agree, that’s more time I spend in her presence. More banter. Just more.
I tilt my head, genuinely curious.
“W-what did you p-p-plan for today?”
“Family talk,” she laughs. “You’re pretty open about them and clearly aren’t uncomfortable talking about your sister. But you can always tell me no. I also brought a crossword or we can discuss Howl, or the weather or the global economy.”
“D-do you want to discuss the g-g-global economy?”
“God no.”
My lips twitch upward.
The lunch is surprisingly smooth, the banter easy. Natural. I find myself stuttering less, not because I’m magically cured, butbecause I’m relaxed. Every time I talk to Sadie, the words seem to come easier. Maybe because she doesn’t seem to tap her foot while waiting for me to finish a sentence. We talk about family, sort of. I tell her about the house in Akranes, making note of the way her eyes light up at the mention of the Guolaug natural springs.
Not nearly as well-known or as popular as the blue lagoon, their location in the breakwater of Langisandur means you can soak in the warm water while looking out over the ocean. It’s also mostly visited byIslandigar, as opposed to the lagoon that mostly sees tourists. If you go there, don’t get your hair wet.
When the check comes, I reach for it immediately.
“Ragnar!” Sadie protests, trying to grab it.
“It’s a f-faux d-d-date, right?” I tease. “I’ll c-can c-c-cover it.”
She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “Fine, but only because I know how much the Arctic pays you.”
She winks. I grin.
We’re gathering up our things to leave, Sadie zipping her tiny backpack—how does it even hold anything?—when I gather my courage.
“Sadie?”
“Yes?” She doesn’t even look up at me,
I take a slow breath. “On the c-call… w-w-with Kat… you said your p-pink g-g-glasses are your favorite part of yourself.”
Her cheeks flush. “Oh. Yeah. I mean, I guess.” Her laugh is hollow. Forced. I wait until she’s done fidgeting, then meet her eyes. Serious as a hip abductor injury.
“You’re a-allowed to p-pick anything to be your f-favorite, but… if you e-ever want… I c-can give you a l-list.”
She blinks, wide-eyed.
“It d-doesn’t ha-ave to be right n-now,” I add softly, “but anytime, j-just ask. I can g-give you o-options.”
The door chimes faintly as Sadie and I step out of the restaurant into the crisp air. She laughs softly under her breath, eyes bright as she hugs her arms tightly around her. I wonder if she’s cold, or if I overstepped and she’s trying to hold herself together. I want to offer to do it for her. Instead, I watch her emotions dart across her face, and smile when she isn’t looking.
This wasn’t a date. I know that. She knows that. But it feels like something. Warm. Light. Easy.
