Page 55 of Unnatural
He looked thoughtful again. “Experiences change your mind, but do they change your soul?”
It felt like something clanged inside her, dull and echoing. “No, but souls don’t need changing. All souls are good. The minds are what get warped.”
“Maybe. But souls can be ruined too.” He said it so matter-of-factly, in a way that made her heart thumphollowly, similar to the way she’d felt when he told her his soul never sang.
“Do you think your soul is ruined, Sam?”
“Sometimes.” But his expression told her more. His expression said,All the time.He gave her an unpracticed smile. “But this is supposed to be a nice dinner, so let’s talk about happier things.”
She watched him for a moment, taking in his golden lashes and his full lips, that square jaw, and the matching scars at his temples where metal plates had been embedded under his skin. He’d told her that the doctors had healed him and then been forced to use metals in place of body parts that had been damaged by the pharmaceuticals. But what could have possibly been damaged at his temples? How did medicine ruin ribs? Or knees?
Something was terribly off.
And not just about him. About her own experience too. She sensed something deeply sinister, even beyond being left in the woods so that “trainees” could practice hunting with real prey.Her.
But he was right. As many challenges as they faced, they also needed moments of lightness in order to deal with the things weighing them down. She gave him a secretive smile. “There’s a box of cake mix in that cabinet,” she said, gesturing behind Sam. “We can make dessert too.”
He looked surprised. “Cake?”
“Sure. We’ll eat the whole thing and make up for all the birthdays we spent in a hospital.” She took a bite and swallowed. “When is your birthday, Sam?”
“I don’t know.”
“They never told you?” They never sang? Never gathered in the lunchroom—not for cake, their systems couldn’thandle that, but for applesauce or sugar-free pudding—as they had in her area of Mercy? That seemed very odd. And terribly cruel.
He shook his head, but he didn’t seem upset about it, not like her.
“Well then, we’ll definitely make that cake,” she said.
Sam smiled and nodded, and then they did talk about happier, more mundane topics. A little about the town she’d grown up in, her schooling, the career she loved, and about the apple farm he’d worked on, doing odd jobs for the blind man named Adam. When they were done with dinner, Sam cleared the table as Autumn stoked the fire.
She kneeled in front of it, staring into the flames, enjoying the moment of peace and safety, the sounds of water and dishes clicking behind her. She glanced back at him, and the vision held an absurdity that made her want to giggle. Sam. Doing dishes. The man belonged emblazoned across the pages of a comic book, fighting for peace and equality, not standing in a quaint cottage kitchen doingdishes. His back was so broad, his waist so narrow. Her eyes went lower, and a flare of heat arced up her spine. Speaking of things that should be emblazoned across pages of just about anything…
She turned back to the fire before he could catch her ogling his ass.
Very professional, Nurse Clancy.
Except she wasn’t only his nurse. Not even close, and she knew it. Their connection, even barring any ass ogling, went far beyond professional.
He cleared his throat behind her, and she startled, a blush moving up her neck as if he’d caught her thinking about him.Stop being ridiculous.She turned.
“I’m going to go take a shower,” he said. “I haven’t yet today, and I…need one.”
“You don’t have to explain your reasons for wanting to shower,” she teased him.
He seemed confused for a moment but then smiled awkwardly. “Okay. Well.” Then he turned stiffly and walked to the bathroom.
To take a shower without hot water. She assumed.
We didn’t have hot water in the hospital. I guess I’m just used to it.
She stood and walked back to the table where she sat down and opened the recreated journal again so she could look through it more closely. Reading the words made her feel so emotional, so sad for the girl she’d been. Sick. Confused. Searching for love.
In some ways, she’d been relieved to leave this girl behind. To cast her off. Forget her. Because it had been a hard, lonely time. The girl in the pages of this journal had thought her days were numbered, and she’d lived in a constant state of fear, waiting for another friend to die.
But…
Reading these words, the questions, the phrases, made Autumn remember that she’d been a fighter too, despite all she had going against her, despite the fact that she barely had the energy to walk a flight of steps. She’d fought hard and she’d loved hard, and Autumn felt proud of her younger self for how she’d conducted her limited life even in the midst of sickness and pain and loss. Her eyes filled with tears. Sam had carried that girl in his heart and his mind even when Autumn herself had not.
