As Told By Paramours

chapter thirteen

elijah

MY PHONE PINGS WITH A MESSAGE MERE SECONDS before I ring the doorbell of the slate green and stone cottage in front of me.

It's from Soo-Ah; I recognize her custom ringtone and check.

ok so i thought ab it n i'm happy 4 you if u made a new friend (even if u haven't met her). u hv my support :)

& good luck w this mystery-romance-who-dunnit-thing!

hope u beat josie to the punch.

I smile and send a quick Thanks back.

It's only seconds after I ring the gold encrusted bell that the door swings open.

There's a lady who looks older than my grandfather yet younger than Carey; she's dressed in a pink frilly vest and white jeans, and has a really open energy to her. "Why, hello?"

"Sorry," I say quickly, "I heard you're a friend of my grandfather, John Ibrahim's, and it's been long since you've spoken, so I wanted to drop by and chat, ask about his school life and all, if that's okay."

There's a long second where I wonder if I need to visit someone else, before a wide smile spreads across her face and her dark eyes brighten. "Come on in. Actually, a girl about your age already came and talked to me. But I can tell you the same thing I told her?"

Josie.

I'm about to shake my head, but decide I can listen anyway, in case she remembers anything new. "Sure. I'm Elijah."

"Belle." She smiles and opens the door wider, and after closing it behind me, slaps her hands together. "Tea?"

"Yes please."

I follow her to the argyle-walled living room connected to the kitchen as she opens cupboards and removes two maroon and brown striped mugs.

"Need any help?"

"No," she says, then pauses mid cupboard reach. "Do you have any preferences?"

"Purple tea?" I say, then reconsider. "Or perhaps almond or blueberry rooibos. Or caramel cashew..."

Her lips drop open in surprise, shock animating her face. "Well, I'll be. You know quite a bit about tea for a kid your age."

Heat creeps up my neck. "A little."

"I think it's good! The language of teas has no age range."

I'm not one to talk openly about myself, so I balk in a bit of startledness when I murmur: "My mother was always big on tea."

"Was?" As she brews my caramel tea, she hums, then sits across from me on a white velvet couch, and ironically enough, sets her feet gently on a matching polar bear carpet.

"She passed away a few years ago," I say, murmuring thank you. It smells heavenly. "Do you live alone?"

"Yes, I do," she says. "Husband died about four years ago now. All the children are grown, so they never come around."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

Belle waves me off. "It's alright, you get used to it. So? What did you want to know?"

"Anything about my grandfather."

"Oh, he and I were the closest of friends," she says. "I was really there for him. Especially when he proposed to our History teacher to help a friend leave class unnoticed and she practically said yes."

"He- wait, what?"

She smiles a mischievous grin. "Oh, there's always worse where he's concerned."

I say: "Do you have any funny stories about him?"

I'm admittedly interested in my grandfather's teenage years, so much so that when she finally extends an olive branch twenty minutes later and says: "... and the way he was with his first love. My, he was a fighter back then" I startle.

"First love, you said?"

Her eyes glimmer. Like she knows. "Why yes, I did."

And she tells me the exact same version of my grandfather's story (though abridged).

"I mean," she continues with a both sad and fond smile. "You can imagine how much she meant to him for him to go through all that just to see her."

"He must've been broken," I agree quietly. When I look down to take another sip of tea, I realize I've finished it all.

"He was," she admits. "I was so furious myself, I had to confront Rose."

I freeze. "Confront?"

She laughs at my expression, an oddly comforting and old sound. "I suppose I didn't tell the other young lady this... Josie?" She sips her tea gingerly. "Of course I did. I knew Rose, considered her a friend. But I knew John first. So there wasn't really any competition."

"Wow," I say, taking a bite of the biscuits she offered a bit ago. "What did she say?"

"That she never did such thing, then accused me of making it up. I didn't even have the heart to tell John. I don't know which is worse; loving someone who betrayed you like that or having them pretend it didn't happen at all."

I nod slowly. "Was there anyone who didn't want them together?"

She leisurely slides her gaze to me. "Yes."

"Who?" I whisper.

And she leans in, chair creaking with her aged bones. "Her friend, George."

● ● ●

So, George is dead.

Heart attack.

I find that out through Aubrey, Jameson's receptionist; apparently, he was supposed to transfer to Jameson since his last daughter got married, but passed away a week before the move. She doesn't tell me any more.

I feel bad, so I visit his grave and leave him flowers, and tell him all about Rose; from there, I return to Jameson.

Fun fact about me (which you never asked for):

When eating, I sort the most pleasing to least pleasing food (look-wise (as judgy as that sounds)) then I eat the least pleasing ones and save the best for last. I just did it with sour skittles.

Josie :~)

Aren't you swamped with work? John says you are.

Elijah.

It's okay, I can just two-time you. I'm sure Elise won't mind.

Josie ;~)

Oh, no :( (note the sad face for the effect).

There's nothing I detest more than a cheater :/

Elijah.

I thought so, too.

Josie :~)