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  “It means I liked you telling me to do it. I wouldn’t have done it if you hadn’t.”

  He traced a pattern on my skin, his voice thoughtful. “And you’d do anything I told you to do?”

  “Haven’t I, so far?”

  He didn’t answer for a moment. “How far will you go?”

  I didn’t turn to look at him. Very carefully didn’t. “As far as you’ll take me.”

  He was silent for another moment.

  “You really do it, don’t you,” he said in a low voice. “Keep it separate.”

  The sex had left me drowsy. I put my hand over his where it rested on my belly. “Yes.”

  He kissed my closest shoulder blade. “Always?”

  “Yes, Dan. Always.”

  I waited for him to say more, but he said nothing. I listened to the sound of his breathing until I blinked and somehow the room had gone dark and he’d covered me with a blanket. He snored lightly beside me on the pillow, one hand still touching me as though to make certain I was there. I listened for a minute, the touch of his fingertips an anchor I didn’t expect to enjoy so much.

  Then I got up and helped myself to a pair of his sweatpants and a button-down shirt. I might have been crazy enough to come across town in my underpants when it was barely night. I wasn’t going to tempt fate by doing it now.

  I was not totally without heart, even back then. I did my best to hide it, but it was there. I did turn back to look once more at him sleeping before I slipped out the door.

  Chapter 06

  When asked the question “What are you thinking about,” many times the answer returned is “Nothing.” It’s a lie. Nobody ever really thinks of nothing. The human mind doesn’t stop. Doesn’t go blank. It’s a tricky thing, the mind, always working on some problem or idea, even when it seems to be quiet.

  I never think of nothing. The closest I come to a blank mind is when I am counting, fucking or drinking. The rest of the time, my thoughts are like a hamster on a wheel, running endlessly but getting nowhere.Chad, the one person who knows me better than anyone else, understands this. It’s why he sends me care packages full of cartoons and expensive chocolate, and cards with inspirational sayings on them. He knows quotations and goodies won’t fix me, but he sends them anyway because it makes him feel good. I’ve never argued with it. I like expensive chocolate and cartoons that make me giggle. I gift him with designer fruit baskets and body lotion and restaurant gift cards. It’s the way we take care of each other since we don’t live close enough to do it in person.

  “The guy left a package for you.” Gavin must have been waiting for me to get home from work, because his door opened as soon as I put my foot to my steps. “I signed for it. I hope that’s okay.”

  “Sure, Gav. Thanks. Want to bring it over?” I let us both inside and tossed my coat and my bag onto their hooks. The package from Chad was small and square. I set it on the kitchen table while I went to change my clothes.

  Gavin had already begun cracking open the cans of paint I’d lined up along the wall. Plain white. Nothing fancy. The chair rail would be dark mahogany to match the furniture I’d bought at an auction. I watched him work as I opened up the package from my brother.

  “How was the museum?”

  He shrugged. “Sucked.”

  I didn’t ask more. I slid out a box from its brown paper wrapping and shook it. Nothing rattled inside. I expected magazines. Chad liked to store up copies of celebrity gossip tabloids and ship them to me with hand-written comments in the margins.

  A composition book slid into my hands. The hard black-and-white cover was scuffed and a little bent, but in good condition otherwise. My fingers rubbed cool cardboard. I laid it flat on my palms and watched it shudder with the shaking of my hands.

  “The Adventures of Princess Pennywhistle.”

  Once upon a time, there lived a princess named Princess Pennywhistle. Princess Pennywhistle had long, curly blond hair and eyes so blue they made the sky jealous. Princess Pennywhistle lived in a castle with her pet unicorn, Unique.

  Princess Pennywhistle. I hadn’t thought of her in years. Now here she lay in my hands, time making her story unfamiliar to me.

  Gavin wandered into the kitchen to help himself to a glass of water and saw me sitting with the book in my hands. “What did you get?”

  I lifted it to show him. “‘Princess Pennywhistle.’ It’s a story my brothers and I wrote when we were kids.”

  “You wrote stories?”

  I wasn’t sure if I should be affronted at his expression of surprise. “This one. Yes.”

  “Wow.” He looked impressed. “That’s cool, Miss Kavanagh.”

  I traced the cover’s black-and-white swirls with one fingertip. “Princess Pennywhistle had lots of adventures with her pet unicorn, Unique. She never had to wait for a prince to rescue her, either.”

  “She kicked ass, huh?”

  I looked up to see one of Gavin’s rare grins. “She sure did.”

  “How come you stopped writing about her?”

  I set the book on the table. “Because I grew up.”

  He reached to pick it up and flip through the pages. “Can I look at it?”

  “It’s not The Little Prince,” I told him. “But…sure. If you want.”

  He grinned again. “Thanks. I write stuff, too, sometimes.”

  “Maybe you’ll let me read something you wrote.” I looked inside the package for a note or a card, but Chad hadn’t included anything but the composition book.

  Gavin had flipped some more pages. “Maybe. Hey! Pictures!”

  He held up the book to show me a drawing of the brave princess, done in colored pencils. Unique, looking a bit more like a mule with a deformed growth on its head than a unicorn, pranced beside her. My throat tightened at the sight of the illustration, done so long ago by childish hands.

  “‘Princess Pennywhistle and the Garbage Monster,’” Gavin read, still turning pages. “‘Princess Pennywhistle and the Glass Tower.’”

  She’d gotten out of that one with a hammer.

  “‘Princess Pennywhistle and the Black Knight.’” Gavin had turned toward the back of the book.

  Unfamiliar from the passage of time, but not forgotten entirely. I reached for the book. “I think…maybe we should get to painting, Gavin. You’ve got school in the morning, and I’ve got to go to work.”

  I put the book back into the envelope without looking at his face. I knew my abruptness had startled him, maybe even made him feel bad, but I ignored it. I put the envelope with the imprisoned Pennywhistle inside it away in my desk drawer, and I went into the dining room.

  Later, when Gavin had left and I’d showered to get rid of the paint on my hands, I pulled out “Princess Pennywhistle” again. She’d been brave, that blond princess with eyes that made the sky jealous. Brave and strong. She’d broken free of the Glass Tower, defeated the Garbage Monster, visited the Kingdom of the Rainbow People and freed them from the Evil Black-and-White Witch. She’d been full of color and joy and confidence, until the end. When she’d met up with the Black Knight, who’d stolen her smile.

  Why had she become that girl without color and joy and confidence? The one who was afraid? That was not the real question.

  The real question was, why had I?

  When the phone rang, I didn’t leap to answer it. The movie on the television and the popcorn on my lap were more interesting. My mother could talk to the answering machine.

  When the machine clicked on and a male voice began speaking, though, I dumped my popcorn on the floor and grabbed up the phone. I had a moment to realize I was acting like a girl who’d been waiting for that special boy to call. Probably because that’s exactly what I was.

  “Hello?” I made my voice sound casual, though I felt anything but.

  It had been a week since I’d shown up at his door in my underwear. A week since I’d left him sleeping. He hadn’t called. I hadn’t, either, though I’d dialed a number of times and hung up,