Nowhere/Anywhere

Chapter Two | Reading

She placed the book on the table, the stolen pages still tucked inside, creating a gap, the fuzzy line of worn, abused paper peeking out, sending a hum through Zoë's chest and stomach and legs that made her wish she'd run home instead of giving chase because all she wanted to do was crack it open —

"Cheese and mushroom toastie?"

Zoë jumped.

The barista deposited the plate beside the books. "Cheers," he said, and lingered. "Is that a good book?"

Habibi.

"Yeah."

"Looks like it's seen better days," he continued. "I love comic books, but I always wait until they're compiled into graphic novels. I'm so hard on my books, the single issues never make it. Was that one ever single issues, or written as a big volume?"

Zoë struggled for words.

"Oh sorry," the barista grimaced. "Do you speak English?"

"I speak English! It's been a long day."

"It's not even lunchtime."

"I know."

"I'll let you get to it," he said, and slipped away.

Bypassing the sandwich, forgetting to keep watch for the bookseller, Zoë pulled out the stolen pages and flipped over the first page.

Chapter 1

I guess you're wondering how all this started. You weren't always here. Obviously.

It was probably the drawing that did it, although I can't be sure.

Three weeks earlier, before the blood and the crowbar, I was housesitting for my friend Victor, and I'd forgotten my razor. I'd been looking forward to the mini-vacation of not sleeping in my own wreck of an apartment, but Lisa, Victor's wife, ruined it at dinner the night before.

"Maybe," she's said, "and I'm not saying Ashlee's the one — but maybe you should think about settling down?"

"Why?"

"You're 35. Victor and I married right out of high school. Almost all our friends are pairing off, having kids. I don't know. I look at you, your life, and I feel ..."

At least Victor did an impotent motion for her to stop talking.

"I feel sad for you," she continued.

"There's nothing wrong with my life."

"But I'd hate you to miss out. I look at my family every morning and I'm the luckiest person in the world. You never know real love until you have a child."

Lisa gave her daughter a squeeze while she was trying to spear a chicken nugget. Daughter whined in protest.

I wondered if that tired argument ever worked on anyone.

Victor tried to intervene: "It's none of our business."

"I care about you," Lisa maintained.

I'd invited my friends to dinner to tell them I'd finalized the sale of the record shop. I was now a business owner and Lisa couldn't keep her nose out of my reproductive organs.

"Anyway ..." I said. "I have some news—"

"Does Ashlee come by the store every day?" Victor asked at the same time.

The promotion might have been new, but I'd been working at the record store for years, and Ashlee liked stopping by. "At least to look through the window. She doesn't always come in."