“Yep,” Eden agreed cautiously.
“Is it always like that? Um, dizzying?Anddazzling?” he added hurriedly.
“No.”
Something like a smile began to curve his mouth.
“Not when she’s sleeping,” she added.
The smile dropped off.
She was tempted to laugh, but she took pity. “Sheisa little keyed up. Naturally. She’s sharing things about herself and kind of showing off, too. Kids have insane amounts of energy.”
He took this in with silence. And then he smiled a sort of wistful smile. “She’s... amazing.”
“She is.” She already knew this, but she couldn’t help but feel gratified that Jasper recognized it, too.
Though the wordamazinghad quite a number of facets and dimension, the way he said it.
“Can I hugyougoodbye?” he said, almost diffidently.
She eyed him skeptically. “As long as your hands stay far, far away from my ass.”
“Deal.”
She hesitated, and then thought, oh, what the hell. Hewasfamily.
He smelled like patchouli and was pleasantly lean. But the way he clung for a desperate moment made her think that he’d asked for the hug because he’d needed reassurance and not a grope, which made her feel about a thousand years old and like his mother, which wasn’t sexy in the least.
He left her with the scent of his patchouli and doubt adhering to her.
She supposed they were only at the beginning of this. They would just have to feel their way through. Maybe set up regular visits via Skype with Annelise, if that’s what they both wanted.
She stared at the closed door, and thought of what Gabe had said about a smooth, white wall with fire behind it, and her emotions ricocheted between fury and ferocious yearning and settled into something like stillness and numbness because that was the only safe place for them.
She felt a nudge at her calf. It was Peace and Love, winding through her legs.
She knelt to give him a thorough petting.
And then she went still. What was it that Annelise had said? That Peace and Love scratched when he got scared?
And that was it. That was the thing she’d been trying to sort from the snarl and pain and anger in his office.
Maybe Gabe was scared.
“Boy, late night, huh? You gonna be much longer, Mr. Caldera?”
Carl the janitor was paused in the doorway, hands folded over the handle of his mop, which he’d soundlessly glided down the hall. If Carl was in the hall, it must be about eight o’clock. He had the nightly cleanup routine down to a soothing, ammonia-scented ballet.
“Yeah, I just have to finish up paperwork.”
Carl gave a shudder at the wordpaperwork. He wouldn’t want Gabe’s job for the world.
At five o’clock, Gabe had been reviewing and signing various invoices for the big Fund-raising Raffle about a week away. He’d fully expected to be home by six.
But then he’d come to the one for Eden’s Garden, and stopped.
He hadn’t done much but sit in the semidark and think ever since.