As Told By Paramours

chapter twenty-two

josie

I THINK THAT SINCE I MET ELIJAH, an abnormal amount of weird things have happened.

For example, amongst the most recent ones, I've been thinking myself into oblivion at how I thought he was offering me a hug and he was just pointing at me. And how I'm sure everyone noticed how I looked a little too eager to accept said hug. And how my brain for some reason took note of how good he smells (like, shea-butter-and-gingerbread good)

"Check," I murmur to Angie distractedly, and her grin is gobsmackingly large for someone who's losing the match.

She shrugs, like it doesn't matter all that much to her. "This'll be, what, 37 to 14?"

My face heats. "I'm getting there."

She reaches over and pats my arm gently, then moves her queen. "How's your, err, friend Elijah?"

"Good," I say tentatively at first, then I relax. "I met his friends the other day." I smile at the thought. "Well, only one: Soo-Ah. I really liked her."

"She was a girl?"

I nod. "She told me all about him— like how he likes tea! I didn't even know that. Apparently he gave his ex a bunch of his favorites when he asked her out. It's so cute."

Angie raises a brow. "And you're not jealous?"

I freeze. My back straightens, and I blink. "Should I have been?"

Angie laughs. "If you aren't, that's nice too. I think I misread the situation."

I look down at the table for a moment, then lick my lips. Smooth my hair down. And I say slowly: "No... I don't think you did."

"Josie!" someone calls, and I gaze at the door. It's Hailey.

She gestures behind her, holding her pregnant belly. "Janessa finished her shift in John's."

I turn back to Angie, who's watching me with an unreadable expression.

"It's my shift now. Continue later?" I ask her with a grin.

She nods, matching my expression. "I'll be here."

● ● ●

"John!"

"Josie!" He smiles when he sees me and stands, giving me a hug. Ironically, I've gotten closer to him over the months I've been getting closer to Elijah. I think I've visited him more than my grandmother (note to self: visit her to check that she indeed, hasn't killed anyone, and isn't too cranky).

"How are you?" I ask him, already putting the water on. "Tea? Chamomile or rooibos?"

"Chamomile today, please. I'm doing fine, and yourself?"

"Also fine." I pause. "Sugar?"

"Two, please. So, have you been talking to Elijah?"

I give him a long, unwavering look. "That's faster than usual." And it is; usually he waits a good fifteen or twenty minutes before asking about Elijah, as if he's analyzing a suitor for his grandson. I tell him the same thing every time: Yes, I like your grandson, no, not romantically, yes, we've met and spent time together, no we're not getting married— things like that. "Yes, I have."

"And nothing happened, right?"

I'm not sure why I'm sort of irritable. I say sardonically slowly: "No, actually: we eloped yesterday."

He doesn't laugh. In fact, his jaw sort of unhinges.

"John!" I say. "I'm joking! God. I told you, him and I are... friends. You know Soo-Ah?"

John nods, half-recovered. "Of course. She visited me a couple weeks ago now. You met her?"

"I did." I set his cup on the table and sit, sipping mine. Today, I'm drinking the tea Elijah gave me: mint green tea. It's devilishly good. "She's pretty cool. I'd like to keep talking to her."

"She is. I prefer her to Noah at least, that complete nutter."

I laugh. "Does she visit often?" I ask curiously.

As if he knows I'm asking multiple things at once, he says: "She does. I've grown closer to the people close to Elijah; he tells them I enjoy the company, so they visit often. Elijah tells me a lot about his life, if I ask enough. Like how Soo-Ah and he became friends because she asked him out on a date on Valentines and he gently rejected her, but still wanted her in his life, and she said yes."

I scrunch up my nose playfully, but my nod is much slower now. "Ahh." And here's oddity number four: instead of facing the subject, I change it. "So, tell me about your wife?"

He smiles at me. "Which one?" he says with a popping laugh.

I crack a chortle myself.