Charlie stopped the Hummer. He turned to me and lifted his eyebrows. “This is where you needed a
ride to?”
I was as baffled as he was. I craned my neck to read the street sign at the corner of the cul-de-sac, and
sure enough, it said Teal Eye Court. A hundred feet away was the back of the Starbucks.
The entire ride
had taken thirty seconds, tops.
A laugh rolled out of Charlie.
“Shut up,” I said, willing myself to stop blushing. “You didn’t know where it was either, or you
wouldn’t have had to use Lola.”
“Don’t you tell me you’re not zesty,” Charlie said. “You are zesty with a capital
Z.”
I opened the door of the Hummer and hopped out, sinking deep into several feet of snow.
“Want me to wait for you?” he called.
“I think I can make it back on my own.”
“You sure? It’s a long way back.”
I shut the door and started walking.
He rolled down the passenger’s-side window. “See you at Starbucks—I’ll be waiting for my chai!”
Chapter Fifteen
I
waded across the snowy alley to the apartment complex at 108 Teal Court, praying that Constance
Billingsley didn’t
have a little kid, because I didn’t know if I could take a baby pig from a little kid.
I also prayed she wasn’t blind, or paralyzed, or a dwarf like that lady I saw on the Discovery Channel
who was less than three feet tall. I could not take a teeny-tiny pig from a teeny-tiny woman, no way.
Someone had shoveled the walkway leading to the individual apartments, and I climbed over the ridge
of packed snow and hopped down to the much less treacherous pavement. One-oh-four, one-oh-six . . .
one-oh-eight.
I set my shoulders and rang the bell.
“Why, hello, Addie!” exclaimed the gray-braided woman who opened the door. “What a treat!”
“Mayzie?” I said, befuddled. I glanced at the credit-card receipt. “I’m . . . uh . . . looking for Constance
Billingsley?”
“Constance May Billingsley, that’s me,” she said.
My brain struggled to catch up. “But . . . ”
“Now, think about it,” she said. “Would you go by ‘Con-stance’ if you had a choice?”
“Uh . . . ”
She laughed. “I didn’t think so. Now,
come inside, I have something to show you. Come, come, come!”
She led me into the kitchen, where on a blue quilt folded several times over sat the most adorable
piglet I’d ever seen. He was pink and black and looked soft to the touch. His snout was a funny, squished
thing, and his eyes were curious and alert. The curl of his tail said
sproing even without being stretched
and released, and yes, he was just the right size to nestle snugly into a teacup.
He oinked, and my insides went buttery.
“Gabriel,” I said. I knelt by the edge of the quilt, and Gabriel stood and trotted over. He nosed my hand,
and
he was so sweet, I didn’t care that I was being slimed with pig snot. Anyway, it wasn’t snot. Gabriel
had a damp snout, that was all. No biggie.
“What did you call him?” Mayzie said. “Gabriel?”
I looked up to see her smiling quizzically.
“Gabriel,” she said, trying it out. She scooped Gabriel up. “Like the Angel Gabriel!”
“Huh?”
She put on an I’ll-be-quoting-now face. “‘The time has come,’ the Walrus said, ‘to talk of many things:
Of shoes—and ships—and sealing-wax—of cabbages—and kings. And why the sea is boiling hot—and
whether pigs have wings.’”
“Okay, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said.
“‘And whether pigs have wings,’” Mayzie repeated. “An angel pig, you see? The Angel Gabriel!”
“I don’t think my friend was being that deep,” I said. “And please don’t start talking about angels again.
Please?”
“But why not, when the universe has such fun revealing them to us?” She looked at me with pride. “You
did it, Addie. I knew you would!”
I put my hands on my thighs and pushed myself up. “What did I do?”
“You passed the test!”
“What test?”
“And so did I,” she went on exuberantly. “At least, I think I did. We’ll
find out soon enough, I suppose.”
Something tightened under my ribs. “Mayzie, did you go to Pet World and buy Gabriel on purpose?”
“Well, I didn’t buy him on accident,” she said.
“You know what I mean. You read my note, my pig note. Did you buy Gabriel just to
mess with me?” I
felt my lower lip tremble.
Her eyes widened. “Sweetie,
no!”
“I went to Pet World, and Gabriel wasn’t there . . . and do you know how frantic I’ve been?” I fought
back tears. “And I had to deal with Nathan, who hates me.” I sniffled. “Only it’s possible he doesn’t hate
me anymore.”
“Of course he doesn’t,” Mayzie said. “How could anyone hate you?”
“And
then I had to deal with Charlie, which, believe me, you don’t want to hear about.” I ran the back
of my hand under my nose. “Although weirdly enough, I handled it pretty well.”
“Go on,” Mayzie said encouragingly.
“I think he’s even more messed up than I am.”
Mayzie looked intrigued. “Maybe he’ll be my next case.”
With
those words,
my next case, I remembered that Mayzie wasn’t my friend anymore, if she ever had
been. She was just a kook who had my friend’s pig.
“Are you going to give Gabriel back?” I said, keeping my voice as level as I could.
“Why, yes. I was never going to
keep him.” She lifted Gabriel so that she and he were nose to snout.
“Although I will miss you, Mr. Gabriel. It was nice having company in this lonely apartment, even for just
a while.” She nestled him back into the nook of her elbow and kissed the top of his head.
I curled my toes inside my boots. “Are you going to give him back to
day?”
“Oh, dear. I’ve upset you, haven’t I?”
“Whatever, just let me have Gabriel.”
“And here I thought you’d be happy to have an angel looking out for you. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“Enough
with the angel bit,” I said. “I’m not kidding. If the universe gave me
you as my angel, then I
deserve a refund.”
Mayzie chuckled. She
chuckled, and I wanted to throttle her.
“Adeline, you make things so much harder for yourself than you have to,” she said. “Silly girl, it’s not
what the universe gives
us that matters. It’s what
we give the universe.”
I opened my mouth to tell her how stupid and hokey and woo-woo that was—but then I didn’t, because
something shifted inside me.
Big shift, like an avalanche, and I could no longer resist it. The feeling inside
of me was so big, and I was so small. . . .
So I let go. I gave myself over to it and let go . . . and it felt marvelous. So marvelous that I couldn’t
understand why I’d resisted at all.
So marvelous, in fact,
that I thought,
Holy cow, has this been here all
Dostları ilə paylaş: