CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

Hardly Holly

That afternoon, Christian and I went shopping. It was a good experience because I needed to get used to seeing Christian’s new face in a crowd and conversing with him naturally instead of letting my heart jump into my nose every time he turned to face me. On the other hand, he could B.S. his way through a snowstorm, so I wasn’t sure if he needed to practice with me. Even with his experience lying and my experience seeing him with different faces, we were not completely convincing as a married couple. We had a shop clerk ask us if we were on a blind date to go shopping and another one assume we were married. Both were true.

At lunch, we decided on our new names. I would be Holly and he would be Tremaine.

At dinner, I leaned over my salad and asked, “How are we going to find Charles? Rhuk has been struggling. There are a lot of people in this city. What more can we do?”

“We’re going to learn about all the people who died in the jail.”

It was nice of him not to say, ‘We’re going to learn about all the people you killed at the jail.’

As time put distance between me and that night, I felt less and less bad about it. Those people were cutting out someone’s heart without their consent. Would anything ever seem wrong to them again? I also felt less human by the moment, like I had less to do with them and their world where they were afraid of death and the unknown. Every moment was a new unknown for me.

“They may not have reported the deaths as a bloodbath at the jail,” Christian continued, “but I bet they didn’t bury their identities. We just need to research everyone who died, find the ones I recognize, and see where those leads take us,” he said smoothly, like this kind of investigation was the order of the day. “As for finding Charles, we might get lucky, and someone might see that sword in your chest who can lead us to him.”

He was talking about the other man who had been held captive in the jail. Christian was hoping he would see me around, approach me and join our cause.

“What should I say if he approaches me?”

“Ask him questions about our scientists and Charles Lewis. He is probably a better source of information than anyone else. Otherwise, we play dumb about ourselves and act like you’re 21 and I’m 25.”

“Such a big stretch for me. I’m 22.”

He chuckled before lapsing into thought. “You know, I wish I remembered exactly what was wrong with the immortals in Nhagaspir. If I knew why I wanted them dead, maybe I’d know if killing them is still the cure. Maybe the worst of the rot died out. If I knew they could be trusted, I could send that new man there, but I don’t know.”

“Do you think we’ll be able to find him?”

Christian shrugged. “I wasn’t aware we were looking for him. It really is best to leave him alone if he doesn’t want to be found. If we see him again it was meant to be. If we don’t, it doesn’t really matter. He can decide how he wants to use his own knowledge.”

I nodded.

***

“Holly,” Christian called out to me as he stood on the porch of the townhouse. “The key doesn’t work.”

“Are you sure we’re at the right address?” I called back, practicing being called Holly.

“Yes,” his long-suffering voice bellowed back at me. “Come have a look at it and tell me if it’s the right key.”

It was a Saturday. A cab had brought us to Christian’s townhouse with our suitcases. I had lifted the first suitcase out of the back before the cab driver had unloaded anything. Christian had jumped ahead to open the door. Proving unsuccessful, he called out to me.

I gently opened the half-gate in front of me and carefully stepped in Christian’s footsteps in the snowdrift that covered our walkway. I took the key from him.

“Are you certain this is the right house?”

He cocked his head. “You tell me.”

That was the instant when I knew what he wanted. I put my hand on the knob and with my mind, I looked into the mechanism. “There’s something stuck in the lock. Some kids tried to open it with a stick and a tiny piece of branch is still stuck inside.”

“Can you move it?”

“U-huh,” I said.

We watched as flakes of bark fell out of the keyhole. When it was clear, Christian tried the key a second time. It opened without a problem.

Looking inside, I saw immediately that this townhouse had undergone Christian-style renovations.

“Turn on all the lights, Rhuk,” I instructed.

They came on and there were strings of globe lights everywhere, casting radiance on white furniture, fur rugs, and gold trim. Wild plants added color and would have filled the air with oxygen if they had been real. The whole place was dreamy with macrame and glass.

“How did you find the time to do this?” I asked incredulously.

“I bought this place months ago and hired an interior decorator to redo every room for me. I gave her too much money. That’s why it looks so fancy.”

“What did you tell her?”

“I told her that I was marrying a woman who was too young for me and the place needed a young woman vibe. I told her I needed a little closet space for myself, but that was my only requirement. The rest of the place was for you,” he said, giving me a peck on the lips.

I smiled at him. Unlike his attempts in Scotland, I was utterly charmed by this place.

I turned back to the cab. The driver had lined up our suitcases on the frozen sidewalk. I just about ordered all of them to float into the townhouse, when I stopped myself and headed back out to pay the driver. The man looked like he had utterly no intention of carrying our things to the door, for which I was grateful. I paid him and he drove off at the exact same time the people in the townhouse next to us pulled up in their car.

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If I had logged into Facebook, what I saw would not have surprised me. If I had read my email, I would not have been surprised. If I had talked to even one person I knew in the last six months, I wouldn’t have been surprised when Trinity and Brighton drove up and stopped their car. Instead, I stood there like an idiot and watched them get out. Trinity sat in the passenger side, while Brighton rushed to open her door for her. She got out with a little difficulty and I wondered if she was alright. She seemed a little short of breath.

Brighton noticed me staring and greeted me. “Hi! Are you our new neighbors?”

I nodded stupidly. Christian rushed down the path and shook hands with Brighton. “Nice to meet you! I’m Tremaine and this is my wife, Holly.”

Trinity introduced herself and Brighton and said how lovely it would be to have neighbors again. “How long have you been married?” Trinity asked.

“A little over three weeks. We just got back from our honeymoon,” Christian replied.

“Really?” Trinity exclaimed, still short of breath. “Where did you go?”

“Whitehorse.”

“In February?” Trinity asked, confused. “Isn’t that one of the darkest places on the planet?”

Christian looked at me longingly. “We dreamt of nights that would never end.”

That snapped me out of my stupor. I laughed and smacked him across the chest. “He’s teasing, but yes. The northern lights were beautiful.”

It was cold out and the frigid air reminded Brighton that Trinity should not be outside. He started pulling her toward their front door.

“You should come over for tea,” Trinity said, pushing Brighton back.

“That would be nice,” I replied. “Someday.”

“No,” she said, getting insistent. “As soon as your things are inside, you should come over for tea and stay for dinner. Naturally, you’ve had a hard day of moving, and not having to worry about supper would be good, right?”

I remembered Trinity and her constant need for people in our apartment when we were roommates. The invitation was an extension of that mentality. It was not because she had noticed anything particular about us. It was clear she did not recognize us.

I hesitated, but Christian piped up, “We’d love to come. We’ll be over as soon as our things are organized.”

Brighton nodded, told us to take our time, and helped Trinity inside.

Christian and I lugged our bags inside. Well, he lugged the bag he was carrying and I made my bag float in a less obvious way and then ordered it down on the floor like a dog once we were inside.

“Did you buy this townhouse knowing that it was next door to Trinity and Brighton?” I asked suspiciously.

His grin was enormous. “Of course. I also bought a house three doors down from their place when they were still living in Alberta.”

My eyes filled with tears and I put myself inside his arms like I was stuffing an envelope. “This is so nice of you!”

He stroked my cheek. “It doesn’t feel like it’s very nice of me. It feels like it’s a nice coincidence. If they weren’t here now while we are searching for your heart, we wouldn’t have met up with them regardless of the houses I bought.”

“Whatever. I’m so grateful,” I breathed into his coat.

He gave me a final squeeze before holding me at arm’s length. “Holly, are you going to be able to behave yourself? You’re not going to burst into tears and tell Trinity who you really are and what you’ve been through?”

I covered my mouth with my hand. “Right. I have to be Holly. I have to go over there and act like you: like I don’t care, I just met them, and it’s an ordinary first meeting.”

“Exactly. You can’t forget that you’re Holly,” he said sternly. “Remember our cover stories. We have to stick to our cover stories.”

“I can do this.” I reached for the door, but then I stopped and dropped my hand. “Well, maybe I should take a few minutes to center myself.”

He nodded. “Sounds wise.”

***

Over at Trinity’s, she had tea ready and dinner half-finished when we rang the bell. Her apartment was decorated even more beautifully than the apartment she and I had together back in Edmonton. I almost commented about it. I only caught myself because I noticed the clumsy way she was moving around her kitchen.

I shoved off my coat and hat, threw them at Christian, who elegantly caught them, and put them up on the guest hooks.

“Do you need any help?” I asked, leaning against her kitchen counter.

She turned around. The swelling of her stomach had been completely hidden by her coat when I met her outside. Measuring the size of her belly and doing a little math, she and Brighton had been married for only two months when she conceived.

I was about to say, ‘What does your mother have to say about this?’ Luckily, I managed to bite my tongue on the unwanted words as she brought me around to the stove to stir her sauce while she collected the ingredients for a salad.

“I’ll make it for you,” I volunteered once as she had everything stacked beside the cutting board.

“I don’t know if you can cut it the way I like,” she protested, short of breath.

“I’ll grate the carrots, dice the cucumbers, rip the lettuce apart and slice the radish so fine you will be able to see individual cells without a microscope.”

Trinity looked at me funny and then broke out in a laugh that had no guts because of her reduced lung capacity. “That’s so odd. That’s exactly how I make my salad.”

“Please sit down,” I said, pointing her to a stool.

She almost sat down, before standing up again. “I need to get the buns. They’re in the freezer.”

“Ch--Tremaine will get them,” I said, almost saying exactly the wrong thing. “Darling, ask Brighton where their freezer is.”

He gave me an encouraging wink before disappearing.

“So,” Trinity said, preparing to make small talk with her new neighbor. “You’ve been married for a month. How do you like it so far?”

“It’s been a really big adjustment. I spent a lot of last year living in the Yukon and before that, I lived in Alberta. Out here, I really don’t have any friends or family.”

“I came from Alberta too,” she cooed. “I lived in Edmonton for a few years. Then I was living in St. Paul, but I only lived there for a few months before we decided to move here. Brighton is a lawyer and he was offered a better job at Federal Justice than at the little law firm he got his first job at. Moving here has been really good for me. I went to boarding school not too far from here and I know a lot of people in the area.” Her face glowed. “I should introduce you to everyone!”

I nodded in fake agreement and watched her carefully as I cut the vegetables. I bet she did know a lot of people in the area. She had probably already had multiple outings with our former classmates and made friends with all her neighbors. I wanted to tell her how cool she was for having such an expanded set of acquaintances, but I just nodded dumbly.

Instead, I turned my back to Trinity and finished the salad.

At the table, Brighton and Trinity told us the story of how he got his job at Federal Justice, how happy they were to move to Ontario, and asked us about our plans.

“I’m a consultant for a web development company,” Christian answered as smoothly as if he had said those words every day for years. “Most of my clients are based in Ontario, so for me, this is a great place to be.”

“And what do you do?” Trinity asked me.

I swallowed. “I’m planning to open a wellness clinic,” I answered stiffly. It was a stupid cover story. Trinity was better qualified for such a thing than I.

“Really? What sort of treatments would you offer?”

“Well, we’d teach people how to meditate, offer counseling services, massages, and other specialty therapies.”

“That sounds thrilling. What made you interested in that?”

“I’ve taken a sudden interest in healing,” I replied, thinking of Doctor Christian hanging by his last thread.

Trinity put a loving hand on her belly. “Maybe you could help me relax.”

“I’d love to help you with some guided meditation or yoga. That might be particularly helpful when you’re in labor.” I said the words brightly, but I didn’t know the first thing about motherhood. Trinity was practically my sister. I knew she was more stressed by her pregnancy than she was admitting. Neither of us had spoken about having babies much and we had been inseparable for seven years. I continued, “I have a lot to do before I can open my wellness center, but I’ll have time to spare for you whenever you need me. I’d love for you to be my first client. Free of course, since we’re neighbors.”

“Can I come over tomorrow?” she asked, clearly excited.

I was startled by her enthusiasm, though I should have known she would be enthusiastic. “Of course.” I nodded and took another bite of salad.