Page 100 of 'Til All the Seas Run Dry

Niamh reached delicately into the bowl.

“How about I go make some actual dinner for the rest of us?” Jory said. “Or are you planning to fill up on popcorn?”

“Oh, I’m gonna fill up on popcorn. And then I’m gonna fill up on dinner.”

Jory rolled her eyes and stood.

“But you don’t need to make dinner,” Robbie said, his mouth full of more popcorn. He swallowed. “Magda’s coming over.”

Jory raised an eyebrow. Robbie shrugged.

“We planned it like three days ago. She said she was gonna bring dinner.”

“Yeah, but will she have enough? Surely she wasn’t expecting Nat and Niamh or me?”

Robbie watched as a lizard moved with alarming speed across the television screen. “Jory-dory, you know Magda.”

She sat down heavily on the couch. Shedidknow Magda. For almost fifty years, Magda had been Jory’s only friend in town, and she loved her. But Jory didn’t like secrets, and Magda was full of them.

An hour later, Jory sat at the kitchen island next to Callum. Magda had brought a casserole with chicken and mushrooms and garlic and an amount of butter that Jory didn’t want to contemplate. It was delicious, which was unsurprising as Magda was a phenomenal cook. The conversation had been light. Food. Work. Robbie’s latest Sweet Smash habit. Whether or not in-app purchases are a scam. Backpacking tourists Nat had rescued.

Jory sipped her wine and smiled when she felt Callum lean close and inhale deeply, smelling her.

“You smell different,” he whispered.

“I’m testing one of Esther’s new scent blends.”

“Mmmm. What’s in this one?” He grazed his nose up the side of her neck and she shivered.

“Basil, ginger, tea tree, and cinnamon. Do you like it?”

He grunted. A soft sound. Something only she would have been able to hear. “You smell like a meal.”

She smiled into her wine glass and was about to say something about clearing everyone out and continuing the business meeting tomorrow when Magda cleared her throat and said, “So, Jory. When is Niamh moving into your apartment?”

The room froze, as if someone had pressed pause on the universe’s remote. Callum’s body went stiff next to her. She felt his gaze on the side of her face and glared daggers at Magda who, looking utterly unconcerned by the chaos she had just unleashed, reached out to stroke Walter’s downy back. The Brightling Beetle had fallen asleep on top of the butter dish.

Nat slowly pivoted in his seat to look at Niamh. “You’re moving out?”

Niamh looked at Jory with wide eyes.

“Goddamnit, Magda,” Jory said through clenched teeth.

“What?” Magda asked with faux innocence.

“We had not discussed that yet.”

“You’re moving out?” Nat repeated, his voice growing louder in the otherwise quiet room.

“That’s my cue,” Robbie said, placing his dish in the sink and rushing out of the room so quickly that he tripped.

“You’re giving up your apartment?” Callum said, his voice tense.

But Niamh beat her to answering. “I need my own place, Nathaniel.”

“You have your own place!” he sputtered.

Oh, you poor bastard. That was not the thing to say, Jory thought as Niamh focused a narrow glare on Nat’s face.