As Told By Paramours

chapter seventeen

elijah

You've never seen anything so beautiful. That feeling where you're overwhelmed but also really grateful you're alive, you know? That's how I felt listening to you sing.

That is all that is replaying in my head. Over and over.

It's perhaps the single most beautiful thing anyone has said to me.

I hope my response isn't too perfunctory and leave it for her.

After all, we're meeting in three days.

"Is it a girl?"

I look up at my dad, home for a long time for the first time in a while, heat creeping up my neck, with a face that I hope exudes the incredulity and preposterous-ness of what he's just asked me, and utter: "What?"

He gives me a smile, one that reminds me of home, and leans against the marble counter. "You've been smiling with that little half smile all day. I think I get to ask."

It's weird to see him out of uniform; in a casual hoodie and washed out jeans, no cap on his balding head. "No," I say, then think. "Well yes, but not how you think."

"Right," he says, potent disbelief crowding his features. "That's how they all start."

"Is that how you and mom started?"

"Yup. She swore she would never date me," he says, and grins a grin that hasn't changed in ages; I remember it the same as I did when I was a child. "A month later she got mad 'n asked me why I hadn't asked her out, so I kissed her, and years later we got married."

I nod, and feel that pressing down on your chest, where you feel like you're between not-crying at all and breaking down. Those fleeting moments of pain where you forget about it for a moment, or your heart is okay for a second, but then the feeling comes back and it's worse every time. "I miss her."

"Me too." And our interaction ends, the same way it always does.

● ● ●

Oh God I'm meeting her in three minutes.

I'm turning the information I searched for over in my head, and I wonder if Josie has more or less.

I thought meeting would be nice. I didn't know I preferred the notes until now. I didn't know I'd be so scared until now.

I spot her when I walk in, but she doesn't notice me until I pull out the metal chair in front of her. Perhaps we should've met at a cafe, or a restaurant, or a place with less elders playing chess and bingo as background noise.

"Elijah!" she jumps, and a multicolored fingernail painted hand rests on her chest in surprise. Then she says what I'm thinking: "Oh."

She's pulled the front and top of her hair back— I think Mauve said it was called half-up-half-down once in passing— and there are butterfly clips in the right side of her dark brown, slightly curly hair. Her lips are fuller than I had the chance to note; dropped open as she does a one-over of me, and her thick brows are reaching for her forehead.

I say: "Hey" and actually remember to sit down.

She blinks big brown eyes at me. "Hey."

"Hi."

A soft smile spreads across her face. "Hey. How are you?"

"Okay, thank you. You?"

The smile widens a little at my response, maybe at the brevity. "Also okay."

It's like neither of us remember why we're meeting, just stealing awkward glances. She's the same as before, with less puffy eyes, an upbeat aura around her that I would usually drift away from. Seeing her up close in this setting is... different.

I take a look at her face again quickly.

No, I definitely don't prefer the notes.

"This is kinda crazy," she murmurs, and I'm not sure if I'm meant to hear it, so I don't reply until she speaks again. "To be talking to each other just like this."

I smile a little. "I think so, too."

"You have an accent," she tells me, and then looks horrified that she even pointed it out, and she adds: "Your grandfather does too. It's really nice."

My ears are hot. "Thank you."

"So, um," she says. "What've you got?"

● ● ●

My brows are knitting together so hard; I'm more puzzled than I was before we started.

"Khushi said that if our stories line up until one place—"

"Khushi?" I repeat, meeting her eyes. "Your friend?"

She lights up. "Yeah! She's really good at this stuff."

"You should bring her around, then," I suggest, "Maybe she'd be able to solve this faster than us."

Her eyes turn mischievous. "Oh? Oh oh oh? would Kait approve of that?"

I frown. "Kait and I broke up months ago."

Her smile drops in an instant. "Crap. I'm sorry." When I don't reply for a moment, she speaks up again. "Maybe Khushi should come after all. She's better at cheering people up, too."

I give a shrug that says well, and say: "I think you're doing okay."

Then Josie does this thing— she leans in until she's touching the table, and rests her elbows on it, and makes eye contact with me; something that so wholly says I'm listening to you, and she asks: "How about your friends? Have any?"

"Yeah, a few," I say quietly, looking at the mirror because I'm a little nervous about the sudden attention. "Soo-Ah and Noah. I'm closer to my sister though."

"Older?"

I nod. "She's in uni now. But I come here because I like my—"

"Quiet?"

Another nod.

"You don't say." Her eyes sparkle. Didn't know eyes could do that.

"Anyway. I think there's a third party here we're missing," I say. "Someone who pretended to be my grandfather, or your grandmother, someone who didn't want them to be together."

She pushes back from the table a little. "I think so, too. Who's left on your list?"

"Richard and ... Ximena," I show her the crumpled paper.

"I only have Ximena. But the thing is, though..."

I search her eyes. "What? Did something happen?"

"No one in my family has heard from her in over twenty years."