Page 25 of Memories of the Lost
“Thanks.”
As they turned a tight corner, they passed a narrow endcap of incense. The fragrances mingled and swelled, and Tillie reached for a gold package that made her think of her mother. The scents of rose and patchouli filled her sinuses.
She was suddenly struck again by a sense of reality splitting, as if this were a stage set and everything real was on the other side.
She peered through the rent.Faintly in the distance, a spark of light glowed, and she heard something like birds chirping, and caught a scent of roses. A road split a thick forest in two, the tree branches forming a tunnel overhead. In the distance was a house, and she could see a woman cooking at a stove—
Liam grabbed her arm. “Steady there.”
She swayed as if she would faint, but all at once, she was back in this reality. Here, in this world, with bright LED lights overhead and the package of incense in her hand. “Are you all right?” Liam asked.
She shook her head. “Um. Yes. I think that painting stirred something up. So weird.”
“Is it?”
What she thought, looking up, was that she liked his face. His eyelashes. “I don’t know. I’m off-kilter for sure.”
“Let’s get you home.”
“Yeah.”
Outside, she sniffed her sleeve. “We’ll smell like this for days.”
“A memory of home.”
“Now I’m craving an avocado and sprouts sandwich on whole-grain bread.”
He laughed. “Kumara soup with sunflower seeds.”
“What’s kumara?”
“Like a sweet potato, I think.”
“Is your mom still alive?” Tillie asked.
“Definitely. Trying to run our lives at every turn.”
“Lives? How many of you?”
He inclined his head. “Six, believe it or not.”
“And where are you in the lineup?”
“Youngest.”
“Mm,” she said with some disapproval, reaching into the bag for granola as if it were popcorn, then held out the bag to him. “Spoiled.”
“Quite,” he agreed cheerfully. He accepted the offering, and tossed a cluster of oats and nuts into the air, captured it in his mouth and looked down at her, entirely pleased.
Tillie laughed. Some dark, heavy part of her dropped away.
The station was fairly empty. They stood together, close but not touching, and when they sat down in the sparsely populated car, he took her hand.
“Are you free tomorrow?” he asked.
“No. I wish. I have to drive north to my mother’s farm to meet a real estate agent.”
He looked genuinely disappointed. “Too bad. I have the day free before I start the next workshop.”
