Random

Chapter NINE

After lunch I stop at the grocery store and buy milk, powdered milk in case this drought lasts a while, 20 packages of ramen noodles in various types (10 for $1, happily), a dozen eggs, ghetto cereal in bags, and five pounds of potatoes. That's something my mom taught me, that potatoes will get you through anything. I waver over butter, but it makes everything seem so much more luxurious that I spring for a pound of cheapo margarine, too. I calculate it will all cost just under $16.

As I'm heading for the cash register, a tired-looking man in a flannel shirt limps along the aisle and I think of Henry. He's so good to me. I should make him some cookies. Impulsively, I add a pound of sugar, cheap chocolate chips and another pound of margarine. That takes me to just over $20, and I'm done.

Something about carrying the supplies into my little house, putting them away, makes me hum under my breath. For dinner tonight I'll have a baked potato and maybe bake some cookies.

I bring in the dragon and rearrange things a little in my super tiny living room to find the best place for her. On shelves in front of the windows are my plants, the begonias and coleuses and wandering Jew and a glossy, healthy Swedish ivy that I'm particularly proud of. The dragon seems as if she might like that spot, with sunshine and greenery all around.

I'm trying not to think about Tyler. Or about Keiran Pears who runs a winery and might be my dad. My phone has been completely silent all day, and when it rings in my pocket I jump about a foot.

Tyler Smith's name shows on the screen. I feel a little shaky when I answer. "Hey, Tyler."

"Hi, Jess."

I wait, but he doesn't say anything. "You called me, remember?"

"Right. Sorry. I guess I wasn't-" He stops. "I guess I'm wondering if you're free."

"As in right now?"

"As in is that guy your boyfriend?"

"No." I sink down onto the couch and put my feet up. "We broke up two nights ago, but he's having a little trouble with the idea."

"Ah." I can hear music playing in the background, something folksy or bluesy or something. "And you? How are you feeling about it?"

I have no idea what comes over me, because I'm not usually that bold, but I say, "Tyler, I kissed you. I wouldn't have done that if there had still been anything going on between him and me."

"Not all women feel that way."

Women. Not girls. I think of my stocked-up pantry and try on the word. Woman. Yeah, I'm turning into a woman. Especially if a man wants to talk to me. Kiss me. "Well, it's not like I have a ton of experience, but I try to treat other people the way I hope they'll treat me."

"You haven't had a lot of boyfriends?"

"Three," I say. "How about you?"

A low chuckle comes through the line. "Boyfriends? None. But girlfriends...more than three."

I prop my bare feet on the arm of the couch, liking the long tanned look of them. I should paint my toenails. "How many more? Like ten?"

"Maybe."

It's my turn to smile. "Twenty?"

"I don't remember."

I laugh. "You're the one who started asking the questions."

"True." He sounds rueful. "How old are you, Jess?"

"Nineteen. Twenty in August."

He's quiet on the line. "You're younger than I thought."