For All You Have Left (12 page)

“He said he was Houdini.” The little details come flooding back to me—as if it all happened just yesterday. “He said he could get out of anything.”

“And he did get out of it,” Hannah says, dramatically nodding her head.

“Yeah, like twelve hours later!” I swallow and start to laugh. “Do you remember that night? James came walking into Grandma’s house right before dinner, and he was with Grandpa.”

“Yeah, and he looked so terrified.”

“Well, we had completely forgotten about him. It was dark, and he was only like seven. Wouldn’t you have been terrified?”

Hannah lowers her eyes, and her shoulders rock forward. It looks as if she’s trying not to laugh. “You know, Grandpa never said anything about it.”

I think back to it for a second.

“You know what? He didn’t,” I remember. “But I do think he made some kind of deal with James though because you and I both know that James didn’t get out of that chair alone.”

“Hell, no, he didn’t get out of it alone. I tied the knots! But what do you think the deal was?” she asks.

“I don’t know, maybe like Grandpa would go along with James’s story of him getting himself out of the chair if James wouldn’t tell Grandma what had happened.”

Hannah’s hand flies to her mouth. “You know, that makes sense because even though James bragged about getting himself free later, neither he nor Grandpa ever said a word about it at dinner.
”

She pauses before she continues.
“And plus, I guess Grandpa knew what he was doing. Remember when Grandma found out that James was our electric-fence tester?”

“Oh my gosh!” My hand instantly covers my heart. “I thought her eyes were going to pop right out of her head.”

“I know! All I remember is that she was holding that big ball of bread dough. Remember?”

I nod my head in confirmation.

“I know she thought about chucking it right at us.” Hannah grabs another handful of popcorn and stuffs it into her mouth. “But it’s not like we forced James to do it.”

I almost choke on a kernel.

“Hannah, you said if he didn’t do it, you’d tell everyone in the fifth grade that he used to wet his bed.”

Hannah’s eyes snap shut, and her narrow shoulders simultaneously jerk
forward. “Oh, yeah.”

I throw a piece of popcorn at her.

“Poor James,” she adds, fishing the popcorn out of her hair.

I stare at her in amusement as she struggles to free the kernel from her long strands before my eyes slowly travel back to Leo on the screen. “Poor James,” I agree.

“Good thing you were nice to him,” Hannah says. I feel several popped kernels hit my head. “Or who knows how he would have turned out.”

I shield myself from the flying corn. “Yeah, I totally claim his normalness.”

We both look at each other then and laugh until our stomachs hurt because I think we both know that, based on our wild childhood, there’s not a good reason in this world as to why any one of us turned out fairly normal.

Chapter Sixteen

Eyes

“S
o, this is your place? It looks a lot like mine—just with different stuff.”

Jorgen laughs. “Imagine that.”

“I like it, though,” I say, still looking around.

None of the furniture matches, but somehow it all fits together okay. And there’s nothing on the walls really, except for a big, framed photo of the new Busch Stadium in the living room. Even it fits somehow.

“It’s got this inspiring, bachelor pad kind of feel.”

“Inspiring?” he asks.

My eyes continue to wander around the room, until they eventually catch on a tall lamp in the corner.

“Target?” I ask, gesturing toward the lamp.

He follows my stare to the corner.

“Yeah. How’d you know?”

I laugh to myself.

“I must be psychic.”

He looks at me with two suspicious eyes.

“Or I have the same one in my bedroom,” I confess.

He chuckles and hands me an envelope.

“You know, you could have just thrown this away. I’m pretty sure I’m not the millionth customer and the brand new owner of a...” I stop and read the front of the envelope. “A 2014 Lexus IS 350 Sport.”

“Well, your name is on the envelope, and stealing someone’s mail IS a federal offense these days. Plus, then I wouldn’t have had a good excuse to get you over here to hang out with me.”

I’m trying not to smile as I fall into the couch next to him. But when I look up, his eyes are already on me, and I just can’t help it.

“You know,” I say and then stop.

He tilts his head a little to the side.

“You have really pretty eyes. They’re like the brightest blue I’ve ever seen in someone’s eyes, but they’re also kind of familiar in a strange kind of way.”

He lowers his head. “Thanks, I guess.”

I think I notice a little, bashful smile hanging on his lips.

“Does your si
ster have the same eyes?”

He sends me a questioning look.

“I don’t know,” I say in response to his look, “sometimes siblings share the same features—to where it’s almost eerie, you know?”

“Eerie?”

His forehead fills with little wrinkles.

“Yes, eerie,” I confirm with a laugh.

He shakes his head.

“No, she has green eyes—kind of like yours.”

I take a second and push my lips to one side. “Hmm.”

“That’s her in that photo up there,” he says.

My eyes follow his gesture toward the entertainment center where a small photo leans up against a couple of DVD cases. I get up and make my way over to it.

“She’s really pretty. What’s her name?”

I glance back at him. He’s propping his feet up onto his coffee table now.

“Lindsey,” he says.

I inspect the image a little more. “You guys have the same nose.”

“Really?” he asks, as if he’s never noticed.

“Yeah, if I didn’t already know you two were related, I’d guess it by your noses.”

I set the photo back down.

“What about you and Hannah? You guys don’t look much alike.”

“We have the same eyebrows.”

“Eyebrows?”

He asks it with so much disbelief that it makes me laugh. “I’m not kidding,” I say.

He stares at the space between my forehead and my eyes now. “How can anyone have the same eyebrows?”

I really try not to laugh, so he knows I’m serious, but in the end, I’m not very successful at it.

“Just look next time you see her. I promise,” I say, joining him on the couch again.

He nods his head, chuckling to himself. “Okay.”

I grab a throw pillow and squeeze it to my chest. I’m really surprised he even has a throw pillow until I feel something furry protruding from it. I quickly flip it around and notice there’s a bear on the other side with half of its body sticking out of the pillow. I slowly turn the pillow so that the bear is facing Jorgen.

He notices it and simply shrugs his shoulders. “I’m a hell of a decorator?”

My eyes playfully narrow on him.

“No?” he says.

I shake my head.

“Okay, my mom and dad went to
Colorado a few years back. It’s a souvenir.”

I nod my head in satisfaction.

“Better,” I say.

The room is quiet then as my eyes fall to the bear in the pillow again. What a strange, little pillow. I squeeze it to my chest and look back up at Jorgen when a thought crosses my mind.

“Jorgen.”

“Hmm?” he asks.

“What’s your middle name?”

He just stares at me with no expression written on his face
whatsoever, and after a moment, he shakes his head. “Nah,” he says.

I feel my face crumpling in
confusion, but I’m also trying to hold back a laugh. He looks so serious all of a sudden. “What?”

“Nah,” he says again, still shaking his head.

He runs his hand through his hair and then his palm down his thigh as if he’s nervous or something.

“What? Come on. You know mine.”

“Yours is a good one, though.”

“Jorgen, it can’t be that bad.”

He just gives me the most serious stare down I’ve ever seen, but it only makes me laugh.

“Jorgen,” I scold playfully.

His stoic features don’t budge.

“Okay, if I can guess it, you’ll confirm it, right?”

“You’ll never guess it.”

“First letter,” I say.

He seems to think about it for a second, as if he’s not even sure he wants to give that much away.

“Fine,” he pouts. “
F
.”

“
F
?”

He nods his head.

“Okay. Frank?”

“No,” he says.

“Ferdinand?” I guess again.

He shakes his head. “No.”

“Fffffido?”

“What?” He laughs. “Like the dog?”

It’s the first smile from him in nearly a minute.

“Well, I can’t think of any more names that start with
F
. Come on, Jorgen, just tell me.”

He closes his eyes and then mumbles something under a heavy breath.

I tilt my head to the side. “What was that?”

“Felix,” he says, a little louder this time.

“Felix?” I ask. “Like the cat?”

His eyes dart to mine, and
at last, a grin pushes past his lips. “Like the cat,” he confirms, lowering his eyes and looking defeated.

I throw the bear-pillow his way. It hits his arm and falls into his lap. I watch him retrieve it and then slowly look back up at me through hooded eyes.

“I like it,” I say.

“You have to say that.”

“What? Why do I
have
to say that?”

“Because you’re nice, and I’m sitting right here,” he explains.

“Not true,” I say. “Even if I were mean, and you were sitting millions of miles away from me on some couch holding a bear-pillow on Pluto, I would still like it. It’s a very strong name. It fits you,” I add.

I watch a smile
slowly start to edge its way across his tan face, and before I know it, I’m stuck in his eyes again.

“What?” he asks, after a few moments of my staring.

“It’s nothing,” I say. “They’re just so unique, but so familiar.”

“My eyes?”

“Mm hmm,” I confirm.

He looks down, and his big eyelashes
seem to rest on his cheeks for a moment before he locks gazes with me again.

“Well, maybe we knew each other in another life,” he offers.

I lower my head and gently laugh, until I feel his hand on my chin. He lifts my face until my eyes are even with his.

“Or maybe we were just meant to find each other in this one,” he says, smiling softly.

My heart breaks a little. I want to believe him.

Then, suddenly, I’m aware of my every breath and his too, as each falls one by one onto my lips. I close my eyes. I want to give in, but instead, I panic.

“Or maybe we shared an alley in our cat lives,” I push out, opening my eyes again.

Jorgen’s gaze falls from mine, but it returns only moments later.

“That’s probably it,” he says, softly chuckling to himself.

I laugh too, but mine is a nervous one. I pray he doesn’t notice.

“Come here,” he says, pulling me closer to him.

I let him put his arm around me and rest his hand on my thigh. Then, I lean into him and lay my head gently onto his chest, and instantly, I can feel his heart beating. I’m still not sure how I fit into this new life yet. I’m still trying to figure it all out as fast as I can without falling to pieces in the process, but I also don’t know how much longer I can resist this beautiful creature beside me.

Chapter Seventeen

Moving

“L
ada, have you ever thought about moving? You know, just picking up and starting over?”

I stare right at Hannah. She’s kidding. Right? How does she not know that I’ll never be in the mood to have this conversation with her?

“Well, have you?” she asks again.

I continue to glare at her, willing her to drop it. Of course, I’ve thought about picking up and starting over. I thought about it once right before college, four years ago, but it hurt so much that I pushed it away and never thought about it again.

“Why?”

“What do you mean
why
?” she asks.