Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 101168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
“Well, I thought she seemed like an Addie.” He patted Basket’s head. “I would’ve named Milkshake and Taco…Sabrina and Freya. That guy in the corner? Snowball? I would’ve named him Leo Virginia.”
Jamie grinned. “Sounds like a porn name.”
Edgar gave a quirk of the lips that might someday grow up to be a smile. “Shit, you’re right.”
The other group in the café left, and Edgar rose to see them out.
“Thanks for coming in,” he told them. “We get new cats all the time, if y’all want to stop back.”
They promised they would.
He tries hard to get the cats placed in good homes even though he misses them when they leave.
“Can I get you anything?” Edgar offered Jamie. “A coffee or something?”
Jamie stood, careful not to step on any cats. “How about a date?”
Edgar frowned. “I don’t think we have any. Though maybe with the smoothie stuff—”
Jamie huffed out a laugh. “Edgar. Do you want to go out on a date? With me?”
Jamie had the pleasure of seeing something like wonder cross Edgar’s face. They were already planning how they’d relate their total smoothness to Amelia when they told her this story later. Then Edgar’s brow furrowed, and he dropped his chin.
Well, fuck. Not smooth. Not slick. Just rejected. You sure read this one wrong.
Jamie said quickly, “No worries. You’re not interested. It’s cool. Um, want to show me more cats?”
Jamie moved toward the back of the café, away from Edgar. Rejection stung, but it was better to know sooner rather than later. And at least they could drown their sorrows in cute cats before making a dignified exit, never to see Edgar again.
“No, wait.” Edgar followed them. “I’m not…not interested. You just surprised me.”
Jamie’s heart flip-flopped. “Oh. No worries if you don’t want—”
“I do.” He sounded sure of himself now. As certain as he’d been that Basket was not a suitable name for a cat.
“Well, okay, great,” Jamie heard themself say. “How about dinner?”
After a slight pause, Edgar nodded.
“Saturday night?”
Another pause and a flicker of worry in his face before he said, “Okay.”
Jamie hesitated. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, definitely,” Edgar said quickly, but a line appeared between his eyebrows that didn’t go away. “I’m really looking forward to it.”
Jamie tried to take people at their word, so they said, “Okay, great. Me too.”
They exchanged phone numbers, and Jamie found themself looking for excuses not to leave. They pet every cat on their way to the door, but too soon they were in front of it with no excuses left.
“Hey, Jamie,” Edgar said. It was the first time he’d said their name, and it sent shivers through them. “I’m really glad you came by. Thanks for asking me out.”
And this time, there was no hesitation, no flicker of unease. Edgar was smiling—softly, subtly, but smiling nonetheless.
Jamie beamed. Feeling brave and reckless and full up with joy, they blew him a kiss on their way out the door.
7
Edgar
“All your clothes are tragic,” Allie said.
Edgar had rested the phone on his dresser to FaceTime with her and was now regretting it. Once upon a time, his sister would’ve come over to help him pick out an outfit, bringing what she would insist was the perfect article of clothing from the store. But now, eight months pregnant, she wasn’t as effortlessly mobile.
“I wish I could bring you this jacket we got in the other day. Pure seventies delight. With fringe.”
“Sorry I’m not the brother you can dress up like a doll.”
“You being a doll is worth your disinterest in fashion,” she assured him. “Besides, I’m sure he’d never let me now. He won’t even text me back.”
“Me neither. Maybe the white button-down. The restaurant’s pretty nice.”
“Did you go look at it?”
Edgar hesitated. “Yes.”
“I thought you were trying not to do that anymore?”
“I am.”
He knew she’d let it go because she was good like that.
“I just want things to go well,” he explained. “So I wanted to be prepared.”
“And?”
“I didn’t see anything outside, but it’s not really like I can go in and be like, Hello, good people. I’m just here looking for ghosts. Enjoy your oysters.”
Allie snorted. “They’d think you were doing some kind of larping thing.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Best case scenario.
“I gotta pee. Be right back.”
“You’re good. I’m gonna get going.”
“The white button-down will look great,” she said, giving him the same thumbs-up that she’d given him since they were kids. When she’d walked him to the bus stop for his first day of school. When he’d won the science fair in seventh grade. The first Christmas after their dad left. When Poe ran away. The thumbs-up meant Everything is going to be okay. And while Edgar knew it wasn’t magic, it was still comforting.
***
Edgar crossed Rampart into the French Quarter and let himself enjoy the way the streets teemed with life. He avoided Bourbon Street and turned into the alcove where the restaurant’s iron lace gates stood open to the street. The hedges that secreted the space from passersby twinkled with fairy lights, and terra-cotta pots of birds of paradise flanked the entrance.