enough about that as it is."
"So, you don't own the apartment together?"
"No, just him."
Josey looked worried. "Is he going to give it to you? I mean if the two of you don't get back together?"
"I don't know." The car was quiet for a moment. Life without Jake. She felt panic ballooning in her stomach, but she feigned a smile. She was not going to have an anxiety attack in front of Josey. "That's it. I just wanted to show it to you."
"It's a beautiful house," Josey said.
As they drove away, Chloe couldn't help but look behind her, watching it disappear. "Yes, it is."
The sun had almost set by the time they reached the storage rental place—a large sprawling maze of low-s lung buildings on an inky black tarmac. The security lights lit up the area like noon. The rent she shelled out for this place would pay for a small apartment. Each rental was temperature controlled and had overhead fluorescent lights.
When Chloe lifted the bay door to her unit and turned on the lights, Josey walked in and said, "Wow, look at all this stuff."
Chloe followed her. She had forgotten how much this place smelled like the farmhouse—long since gone—of furniture polish and Borax detergent. She felt calmer all of a sudden. WWhy hadn't she come here sooner? ^Vhen she sold her great-grandparents' land to a developing company, they'd let her keep the things in the house for months after closing. She sold some of the furniture during that time. Then, when she met Jake, the rest went directly into storage. Jake never suggested that she move her things into the apartment, and she knew she was partially to blame for that. She was so excited to be with him, to move in with him and into his life, it never occurred to her to bring any of herself with her.
Chloe walked to a long bank of boxes, stacked chest high, a lifetime of books that had come to her. "So, what do you like to read?" She put a hand on one of the marked boxes. "I have mysteries. I have romance. I have history. Self-help. Classics."
"Romance," Josey said.
"I have the most of those, ironically," Chloe said, walking over to the boxes on the far end. Josey followed. "I read these just before I met Jake. Tons of them. As soon as I finished one, there was another."
"How magical," Josey said.
Chloe shifted uncomfortably. "Books aren't always right. But maybe they weren't meant for me. Maybe they were meant for you. For you and Adam." Chloe lifted the lid of one box and said, "Help yourself."
Josey paused with her mouth open for a moment, as if Chloe had literally shocked the words right out of her. "Um, listen, about Adam. Would you mind not saying anything about me to him? He seems distracted lately, anyway."
"Uh-oh," Chloe said.
" Uh- oh?"
"I sort of already told him."
"Told him what?"
"That you've been interested in him for a while." Chloe laughed at Josey's expression, then reached out and took her hands. "It's a good thing, Josey! Adam isn't seeing anyone. He moved here, so I know he wants to be here, but he's just had some problems adapting. He needs to get out more. You could ask him out. There's nothing wrong with that. Are you all right?"
Instantly, Josey smiled and nodded. "Oh, yes. Yes, I'm
fine."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course! What could be wrong? I have my choice of romance novels. I'm in heaven."
Josey began to go through the books, so Chloe walked around, touching things, smiling. There was the headboard of her old childhood bed, the same bed her mother slept in as a child. The pie safe. The jelly cabinet. These things weren't meant to just take up space in order to make a point. They'd been waiting all this time for her to use them. Furniture was a lot more patient than books. Furniture waited for space in your life instead of just showing up and demanding attention.
About a half hour later, Josey had a respectable pile of books on the floor. "I'll get these back to you as soon as possible," she called.
Chloe wove her way around ladder-back chairs and braided
"So, you don't own the apartment together?"
"No, just him."
Josey looked worried. "Is he going to give it to you? I mean if the two of you don't get back together?"
"I don't know." The car was quiet for a moment. Life without Jake. She felt panic ballooning in her stomach, but she feigned a smile. She was not going to have an anxiety attack in front of Josey. "That's it. I just wanted to show it to you."
"It's a beautiful house," Josey said.
As they drove away, Chloe couldn't help but look behind her, watching it disappear. "Yes, it is."
The sun had almost set by the time they reached the storage rental place—a large sprawling maze of low-s lung buildings on an inky black tarmac. The security lights lit up the area like noon. The rent she shelled out for this place would pay for a small apartment. Each rental was temperature controlled and had overhead fluorescent lights.
When Chloe lifted the bay door to her unit and turned on the lights, Josey walked in and said, "Wow, look at all this stuff."
Chloe followed her. She had forgotten how much this place smelled like the farmhouse—long since gone—of furniture polish and Borax detergent. She felt calmer all of a sudden. WWhy hadn't she come here sooner? ^Vhen she sold her great-grandparents' land to a developing company, they'd let her keep the things in the house for months after closing. She sold some of the furniture during that time. Then, when she met Jake, the rest went directly into storage. Jake never suggested that she move her things into the apartment, and she knew she was partially to blame for that. She was so excited to be with him, to move in with him and into his life, it never occurred to her to bring any of herself with her.
Chloe walked to a long bank of boxes, stacked chest high, a lifetime of books that had come to her. "So, what do you like to read?" She put a hand on one of the marked boxes. "I have mysteries. I have romance. I have history. Self-help. Classics."
"Romance," Josey said.
"I have the most of those, ironically," Chloe said, walking over to the boxes on the far end. Josey followed. "I read these just before I met Jake. Tons of them. As soon as I finished one, there was another."
"How magical," Josey said.
Chloe shifted uncomfortably. "Books aren't always right. But maybe they weren't meant for me. Maybe they were meant for you. For you and Adam." Chloe lifted the lid of one box and said, "Help yourself."
Josey paused with her mouth open for a moment, as if Chloe had literally shocked the words right out of her. "Um, listen, about Adam. Would you mind not saying anything about me to him? He seems distracted lately, anyway."
"Uh-oh," Chloe said.
" Uh- oh?"
"I sort of already told him."
"Told him what?"
"That you've been interested in him for a while." Chloe laughed at Josey's expression, then reached out and took her hands. "It's a good thing, Josey! Adam isn't seeing anyone. He moved here, so I know he wants to be here, but he's just had some problems adapting. He needs to get out more. You could ask him out. There's nothing wrong with that. Are you all right?"
Instantly, Josey smiled and nodded. "Oh, yes. Yes, I'm
fine."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course! What could be wrong? I have my choice of romance novels. I'm in heaven."
Josey began to go through the books, so Chloe walked around, touching things, smiling. There was the headboard of her old childhood bed, the same bed her mother slept in as a child. The pie safe. The jelly cabinet. These things weren't meant to just take up space in order to make a point. They'd been waiting all this time for her to use them. Furniture was a lot more patient than books. Furniture waited for space in your life instead of just showing up and demanding attention.
About a half hour later, Josey had a respectable pile of books on the floor. "I'll get these back to you as soon as possible," she called.
Chloe wove her way around ladder-back chairs and braided
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