big-ass tree, stupid chirruping birds, the part of the garage door not obscured by the big-ass tree. Everything green and summery and light and Sydney. Not wintry New York. Not the dirty, comfortable, beloved East Village.
Did it mean she was going to die soon? Who'd rescue her this time? She'd lived her life so recklessly it was pathetic to discover that, after all, she didn't want to die young.
She wanted to live.
The wine was starting to uncurl inside her, to smooth things out, make them seem better than they were. She opened the fridge, looking for more. Found three bottles, unopened, lying on their sides at the bottom of the fridge. One of them was champagne. Easier to open than normal wine, but it seemed kind of pathetic to drink bubbles on your own.
She pulled out one of the other ones. It had a cheap-looking label: MOSS WOOD ESTATE SEMILLON. It was probably as crappy as the other one, but she didn't care. She found a corkscrew and opened it.
She poured herself another mighty glass, picking out bits of cork with a finger. The sour taste made her grimace. Oh well , she told herself. It'll get me where I want to go .
The house hadn't shaken when Reason and Esmeralda went to New York, she realized. Normally the door opening and shutting sent a shudder through the house. She hadn't felt it. She hadn't heard it. What did that mean?
It meant, she decided, that she should have more wine.
The door opened. Tom stepped through, head swathed in hat and scarf, so that all Jay-Tee could see was his red nose and eyes.
"Tom!"
He grinned, started to take off his gloves, turned to shut the door behind him.
"Don't shut it!" Jay-Tee yelled, jumping up.
"What?"
She grabbed the door, pushed it wide open. The backyard. Green leaves, brown bark, fallen brown leaves and twigs on the wooden porch. The last of the day's sunlight. Long shadows.
She stepped through. One step to the porch, wood under her feet. Not New York.
Jay-Tee heard Tom shout something from inside the house. He sounded scared.
She went down the rest of the steps to the backyard. Tom's house over that fence, past the red spiky bushes. Mere's magic cottage on the other side, its dark brick wall right up to the fence. It seemed to glower.
This was not New York City. She wasn't cold; she was hot.
She sat down on the steps.
"Jay-Tee?" Tom called. "Are you there?"
She turned to where his head was sticking out the kitchen window.
"Bugger, you just disappeared! Scared me to buggery." He climbed through the window, dropped onto the porch, where he wobbled. He'd taken off his coat, hat, and gloves, but he was still dressed too warmly. A scarf hung loose around his neck. "What's going on? Are you all right?"
Jay-Tee returned to staring at her hands. She was thinking about Reason's. They hadn't been glowing. She'd said so, and Mere had looked at her weird.
No. It couldn't be true. It couldn't.
Tom sat down next to her, a little unsteady. "You don't look okay."
She turned to him before he could say anything else. She leaned forward and kissed him. Lips against lips.
He pulled away, startled. "Jay-Tee? Are you sure you're— "
"I'm fine. You're fine. I like you."
"I like you too. Kisses are lovely," he said, tripping over the word kisses . She understood. It was a tricky word. "But you seem so— "
"Fine," she said, and kissed him again.
"Fine?" he asked, and kissed her back. She opened her mouth: they kissed properly this time. She ran her tongue over his teeth. His tongue found hers. She reached her hands up to his cheeks, careful to avoid where Jason Blake had cut him. Smooth, soft, still chilled from the— She pushed that thought away. Felt his hands on her waist. Moved hers into his thick white-blond hair.
All the sensations, their bodies so
Did it mean she was going to die soon? Who'd rescue her this time? She'd lived her life so recklessly it was pathetic to discover that, after all, she didn't want to die young.
She wanted to live.
The wine was starting to uncurl inside her, to smooth things out, make them seem better than they were. She opened the fridge, looking for more. Found three bottles, unopened, lying on their sides at the bottom of the fridge. One of them was champagne. Easier to open than normal wine, but it seemed kind of pathetic to drink bubbles on your own.
She pulled out one of the other ones. It had a cheap-looking label: MOSS WOOD ESTATE SEMILLON. It was probably as crappy as the other one, but she didn't care. She found a corkscrew and opened it.
She poured herself another mighty glass, picking out bits of cork with a finger. The sour taste made her grimace. Oh well , she told herself. It'll get me where I want to go .
The house hadn't shaken when Reason and Esmeralda went to New York, she realized. Normally the door opening and shutting sent a shudder through the house. She hadn't felt it. She hadn't heard it. What did that mean?
It meant, she decided, that she should have more wine.
The door opened. Tom stepped through, head swathed in hat and scarf, so that all Jay-Tee could see was his red nose and eyes.
"Tom!"
He grinned, started to take off his gloves, turned to shut the door behind him.
"Don't shut it!" Jay-Tee yelled, jumping up.
"What?"
She grabbed the door, pushed it wide open. The backyard. Green leaves, brown bark, fallen brown leaves and twigs on the wooden porch. The last of the day's sunlight. Long shadows.
She stepped through. One step to the porch, wood under her feet. Not New York.
Jay-Tee heard Tom shout something from inside the house. He sounded scared.
She went down the rest of the steps to the backyard. Tom's house over that fence, past the red spiky bushes. Mere's magic cottage on the other side, its dark brick wall right up to the fence. It seemed to glower.
This was not New York City. She wasn't cold; she was hot.
She sat down on the steps.
"Jay-Tee?" Tom called. "Are you there?"
She turned to where his head was sticking out the kitchen window.
"Bugger, you just disappeared! Scared me to buggery." He climbed through the window, dropped onto the porch, where he wobbled. He'd taken off his coat, hat, and gloves, but he was still dressed too warmly. A scarf hung loose around his neck. "What's going on? Are you all right?"
Jay-Tee returned to staring at her hands. She was thinking about Reason's. They hadn't been glowing. She'd said so, and Mere had looked at her weird.
No. It couldn't be true. It couldn't.
Tom sat down next to her, a little unsteady. "You don't look okay."
She turned to him before he could say anything else. She leaned forward and kissed him. Lips against lips.
He pulled away, startled. "Jay-Tee? Are you sure you're— "
"I'm fine. You're fine. I like you."
"I like you too. Kisses are lovely," he said, tripping over the word kisses . She understood. It was a tricky word. "But you seem so— "
"Fine," she said, and kissed him again.
"Fine?" he asked, and kissed her back. She opened her mouth: they kissed properly this time. She ran her tongue over his teeth. His tongue found hers. She reached her hands up to his cheeks, careful to avoid where Jason Blake had cut him. Smooth, soft, still chilled from the— She pushed that thought away. Felt his hands on her waist. Moved hers into his thick white-blond hair.
All the sensations, their bodies so
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