I pick up my dinner and start eating, shaking off my racing thoughts. After a bite, I’m suddenly ravenous, and I finish my quesadilla in silence. I take a long drink of water and tell her how delicious it was.

She smiles, collecting my plate and putting it in the sink. “Good. I’m very talented at frying things with cheese. That’s about the extent of my culinary skills, though, I’m afraid. I’m far more interested in baking.”

“What’s with the knock-knock jokes?” I ask, noticing the whiteboard on the fridge.

Meg turns pink, but she laughs. “It’s completely dorky, right? Dani gave me the board when I moved in to help smooth over the awkwardness of being adult roommates who are related to each other. We’re supposed to leave notes about where we are headed and stuff, but we mostly use it for nerdy church-dad jokes.”

“I like it. It fits. How’s it been living with your uncle?”

“Good. Simple. Fabulously freeing.” She’s moving toward me, her shampoo or perfume or something wafting around her, and it’s so good. She holds out her hands, taking mine and pulling me up with her. “We have a few hours until he gets back.” She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “And I have no idea how to work the complicated TV remote he’s got in there. Maybe you want to sit on the couch or something? Stare at the walls? Play charades?”

“Charades? With two people?”

“How good are you at feigning surprise?”

“Not very.” I’m smiling. She’s somehow got me smiling. This girl is a miracle.

“Well…” She trails off with a fake huff of indignation. “You don’t want to talk. You can’t pretend to be surprised. That leaves staring at the walls … or…”

My eyebrows raise. “Or?”

She walks backward into the living room, leading me. She falls back on the couch, tugging me down with her. “Or,” she says with a nervous smile, “we could practice kissing on this couch.”

“That one. I choose that one.”

She laughs at my enthusiasm before wrapping her hands around the back of my neck and pulling me closer. “I thought you might.”

OCTOBER

15

Meg

I wake up to the house smelling like apples and cinnamon, and the day stretches out ahead of me, all mine. It’s Saturday, and I don’t have work. I make my way to my bathroom, splash some water on my face, brush my teeth, and throw on a bra since I hear James moving around the house, awake and baking something yummy.