Page 36 of Switch
It feels ungracious to want my brother to leave when I know he came over here to help.I was the one who texted him after I thought PJ wouldn’t answer.Now his presence feels oppressive.
I glance at PJ, who raises his eyebrows and gestures at me.He’s waiting for my decision.
“I think now’s a good time for those beers.”Without waiting for an answer, I pull a few bottles from the fridge and slide them across the counter.I’m not always great about using food before it expires, but for better or worse, the beer is fresh.There have been too many nights when a couple of bottles helped me get myself to sleep.
Fewer since PJ and I started video chatting at night.
“Wes, if you insist on staying, go upstairs and find us a board game.”My brother looks at me strangely before heading up to the guest room closet where Marina kept them.They’re still there.I haven’t moved anything.
I’ve got to start clearing out her stuff.
As soon as Wes disappears, PJ plunks his unopened beer bottle on the counter and turns to me with a serious expression.“You ready to tell me what’s going on?”
My lungs feel stuck.“What do you mean?”
One glance at the beer bottle reminds me of the morning after our date.Right.He said he doesn’t drink much.I avoid eye contact while grabbing him a glass of water instead.
“Fallon.”He’s not amused.“For weeks, you’ve been trying to hold me in this half-assed friends-who-sometimes-talk-dirty-on-video-chat-zone.Suddenly you text me that you’re having a rough time, and you want me to come over.Your brother’s here because he thought you needed him.You’re tense as shit.Tell me what’s going on.”
I blame the air conditioning for the shiver down my spine.And…for the sudden urge to fall into his arms.
PJ’s right.I’ve kept him at arm’s length, taking the pleasure he gives me, twisting in jealousy over every date he’s been on but not speaking up.I don’t deserve to burden him with my shit.
Fuck it, though, I need to tell someone.When I think about it, PJ is the one person who might take me seriously.Wes would think I’m certifiable.
Am I?Probably.
I pull open the drawer at my hip and pull out a stack of colorful paper that includes several greeting cards as well as takeout menus for all the places Marina liked to order food from.I haven’t used them in years, of course, thanks to delivery apps.
PJ’s confusion is apparent.Which makes sense, because who gets nervous about a bunch of greeting cards and menus?
I slide the top one over.It’s in an expensive-looking cream-colored envelope with a cute sketch of an orange cat.“This came in the mail today.My name was on the envelope, with no stamp or address.”
PJ slides out the contents.
“It’s Marina’s birthday,” I continue.“I went to visit her memorial site, and when I came back, it was in the mailbox.At first, I brushed it off.I went to stick it in Marina’s filing cabinet in case I ended up going to the police or something, but I found all these others in there.She’s been getting them for years, I think.”
“What the fuck?”PJ’s eyes narrow when he opens the first card, and I know what he’s seeing.
Neat block lettering spelling out the words “YOU HAVE SOMETHING THAT BELONGS TO ME.”
PJ’s expression hardens as he opens two more, which I already know say “WISH YOU WERE HERE” and “DO YOU STILL SMELL LIKE MAGNOLIAS?”
There are six in total.
“I don’t…I don’t know who they’re from.”
The only theory I’ve come up with is one I refuse to entertain.
“But I do recognize the logo on the envelopes.It’s from that expensive stationery store downtown.”
“You mean Cotton and Linen?”PJ snorts.“Stupid fucking name.I went in there one time because I needed to buy sheets.They had the nerve to look at me like I was an idiot when they told me they didn’t sell any actual linens there.”
Despite everything, I laugh.“I could see that.After Marina died, her agent insisted that I go there to get some ‘appropriate’ thank-you notes to send to people who had helped with her memorial.The guy working there at the time seemed annoyed that I didn’t know what style of cards I was looking for, so I walked back out.Nobody got thank-you notes.”
“Assholes.”PJ’s face turns serious.“You know this means someone’s fucking with you.”
“Yeah, I picked up on that.I don’t know why.”
