Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Alex

I NEEDED TO get away from my parents. That's what I told myself when I left the house this afternoon, but as I stand in the cat café with Henry's sunny smile waiting for me on the other side of the glass, I grow suspicious of my own motivations.

He unlocks the first door, steps into that weird little hallway thing, then unlocks the second door.

"Hey," he says, "back already?"

I know he's joking, but the quip leaves me squirming with discomfort. I saw him last night. Then he had to leave for that emergency, and I ended up with Dad at the hospital, and oh man, what am I doing back here already? My parents were on me the second I woke up today. I'm like Dad's personal nurse at this point, and I'm stuck here for who knows how long? It's no wonder I felt the need to flee almost immediately.

But I'm having trouble explaining that to Henry.

"I just, um…" I come up short.

"We don't have any viewings for a while," Henry says. "Things get kind of quiet here in the afternoon unless River is teaching a yoga class. Not to say you aren't welcome. We always have coffee and tea and baked goods. We're still a café, even during slow times. I just meant that everyone else is at work or school or something."

Work. Right. Yes. That was my excuse. That was why I grabbed my bag before leaving.

I shrug to display the laptop bag on my shoulder. "Actually, I came here for work."

"Oh! Oh, right, of course. You're still working while you're here. Well, come inside. We have plenty of tables you can use. There's an outlet near that one in the corner. The Wi-Fi password is next to the register."

Henry's rambling this all off at a speed I can barely follow, but I don't stop him. I simply follow him into the café and head to the table he indicates. The tiny round table is clearly meant for tea and a snack and not my bulky work laptop, but I settle in gratefully anyway. There's no one here who's going to ask me to vacuum the entire house while also scrutinizing my every life choice.

"Can I get you a coffee or tea?" Henry says.

"Yeah, actually, I was going to grab a coffee."

"Let me get it. I'll make you my favorite. No charge." He ends this with a wink before all but skipping away, and my heart jolts.

I brush the feeling aside and focus on plugging in my laptop, but for some reason I fumble with the charger. When I manage it, I search for the Wi-Fi password. Next to the register, Henry said. I can barely make it out from where I'm sitting, but in the process I catch a glimpse of Henry making my coffee. For all his bubbly personality, he's efficient and neat as he goes through the motions of making the coffee. There's a grace to the way he flicks his wrist while adding the frothy milk. A bit gets on his finger as he sets the cup aside, and my eyes catch on his lips parting so he can suck the foam off.

I turn away abruptly, staring at my useless laptop for several seconds before I remember I was searching for the Wi-Fi password. A piece of me is terrified to turn my head and look for it again, the image of Henry's plush lips opening around his finger flashing before my eyes. My imagination is doing horrible, terrible things with that otherwise innocuous gesture, things it should definitely not be doing. I must really be losing my mind already if this is where my head is at.

Before I can shake myself out of lurid hallucinations, something soft butts against my arm. It's that cat, the one who sat in my lap the other day. When I notice her, she meows at me, and I lift my arm without thinking. Immediately, the little creature leaps into my lap, turns around once, and settles right there on my thighs, purring with pure contentment.

"Hey," I say, petting her head, "I remember you."

She closes her eyes in bliss when I scratch behind her ears, so I go on doing it. My swirling thoughts settle as I stroke her black and brown and white fur.

"Wow, she really likes you."

I startle at Henry's arrival. He sets a cup of coffee down on the table, placing it carefully behind my laptop. A leaf lies painted in foam atop the surface of the coffee, and suddenly his graceful flicking motion with the milk makes sense.

No. I shouldn't think about the milk foam. Let's set that one aside.

Henry takes the seat across from me.

"Were you able to log into the Wi-Fi?" he says.

I completely forgot about the Wi-Fi, distracted once by the cat and once by … him.

"It was hard to read the sign from here," I lie. I gesture at the cat in my lap, letting her take the blame for this.

"No problem. It's RainbowRescue847. Capital Rs. The 847 is the address."

"Thanks." I type it in before I can forget it. I'd look like an even bigger weirdo if I immediately forgot it.

The moment I connect to the Wi-Fi, a flood of new emails flows into my inbox. I heave a sigh.

"Lots of work?" Henry says.

"Lots of emails. I don't know if I'd call that actual work."

Henry laughs softly. "Well, I should leave you to it then. Enjoy your coffee. You be a good girl and keep him company, okay, Poppy?"

Henry rises from his chair, but bends toward mine when he stands. I freeze up when his hand darts out, but he's going for the cat. Yeah, duh, of course he's going for the cat. What else would he have been reaching for?

My throat is dry and I have three more emails by the time Henry straightens and starts walking away. It takes a couple rounds of petting Poppy before I come back to my senses.

"Is he like that all the time?" I mutter to the cat.

She doesn't respond, but her low, contented purring rumbles on, and I choose to interpret that as a yes.

I turn to my emails. Working my way through them helps dispel whatever weird headspace I've been stuck in all day. It's nice having Poppy on my lap too. I have to admit, it's an improvement over how I usually work. The cat, the café atmosphere, the coffee Henry made for me. No one's even yelling at me. I sink so deeply into my work that I don't notice the time passing. I get through my emails, then move on to a couple small tasks that are easy to knock out quickly, freeing me up for when I have time and privacy to do some real work again. Someday. When I'm in San Francisco and not Tripp Lake.

"How's the coffee? Want another?"

Henry's soft voice drags me out of my tasks and back into the café. I'm surprised to find my cup empty.

"No, that's enough caffeine in the middle of the day," I say. "What do I owe you for it?"

"Don't worry about it. Staff can have free coffee."

He winks before taking the cup away, and I'm still thinking about the gesture when he returns and sits across from me.

"I can't believe Poppy has stayed on your lap this entire time," Henry says. "It's a shame you're leaving so soon. She really has taken to you."

A smile sneaks onto my face as I pet the cat peacefully sleeping on me.

"I'm actually not leaving as soon as I thought," I admit.

"Oh?"

When I look back up, it seems like Henry is sitting up a little straighter, leaning toward me across the table.

I search for an explanation. I don't want to admit all that's going on with my parents. It's not as simple as my father's recovery. If I truly was just helping them through a tough time, this might feel very different, but their constant pressure, their constant questions, their unspoken disapproval — it's a weight sitting on my back, trapping me here.

I go with an easier explanation instead.

"My parents will need help for a little longer than we thought," I say. "So I'm getting a later flight back. Work doesn't mind me being remote for a while."

"I hope everything's okay with them," Henry says.

I force myself to smile. "It'll work out." I really don't want to stay on this topic, so I search for an out. "Did everything go okay with your roommate's emergency last night?"

Henry's face falls, and I nearly regret steering the conversation away from my troubles. He recovers quickly, but his eyes aren't quite as strikingly blue when he replies.

"Well, the house didn't burn down or anything," he says with an insincere little laugh. It's a strange sound from him, strained and unnatural. He's made for brighter laughter. But it feels wrong to prod unless he wants to offer up the information. It's not like we're close friends. We're distant acquaintances from high school who had a chance encounter and grabbed some pizza one night.

We fall into an awkward silence, both of us apparently holding something back. Henry's secrets aren't mine to prod at, however. And I certainly don't want him asking about mine.

I busy myself with tying up a couple loose ends with work and then closing my laptop. The moment that partition comes down, I feel like I'm standing on the edge of a cliff, exposed and windswept. And apparently Henry feels the same.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I distracted you while you were working. I should probably…"

"It's okay. I did enough to keep them off my back for today. I was thinking of heading home before this place gets busy. It's probably getting close, right?"

Henry pulls out his phone and checks the time. "Oh shoot. Yeah. Afternoon groups will be here soon."

He stands, and I gently lift up Poppy so I can do the same. When Henry catches me with her in my arms, he steps close.

"I can take her," he says.

I'm pretty sure the cat could manage on her own, but here I am passing her off like a sleepy toddler. She doesn't protest, more than content to be pampered as she goes from my arms to Henry's. Henry scoops his arms under mine so he can take Poppy, and his hands brush along my arms in the process. There's something so soft about his touch that I can suddenly understand why Poppy doesn't make a fuss.

I turn away quickly, busying myself with unplugging and packing up my laptop. Henry will have moved on by the time I look up, which should make me feel safe, but instead it makes me feel … reluctant? I can't quite name the emotion tugging at my chest, but whatever it is, it makes me turn back around when Henry has only taken one scant step away from me.

"Hey, you know," I say, and he instantly responds to my voice in a way that clogs up my throat. I have to swallow before continuing. "Since I'll be in town a little longer, I, um, I always really liked the trails around here. If you have Saturday off or something…"

My chest clenches. It's simply because he's the only person I know here who isn't my parents or my sister, I tell myself, but even in the privacy of my own head I can hear the lie in that.

The impact of Henry's bright, earnest smile further obliterates my rationalizations.

"I'd love that," he says.

And it might be the best news I've gotten all week.