NOVEL NEXT Chapter 66 - Surprise?
The past few weeks, months even, have been so hectic and chaotic that having a slow day of relaxation felt odd. Going home to New Farford, acting just as Eryk Blakely, was a familiar yet foreign experience. To be back in that house, in the room where I spent seventeen years, was like visiting a museum. The untouched, perfectly made bed, the wardrobe of clothes I no longer wear, the walls covered in posters of bands and movies I faked interest in, all tell the story of somebody else. Like seeing the skeletal remains of a long-dead creature and trying to piece together what it might've looked like. Calling it a museum was wrong; it's more like a mausoleum.
Daniel was very excited to see me, hugging me as soon as he saw me get off the Quickrail platform. It was the biggest display of affection I'd gotten from him in a decade. I believe time away from each other might've allowed him to finally mourn Mother. The darkness that had haunted the man ever since that day seemed lighter. The drive from the station to our house was filled with questions about QUTD and Quinstin as a whole. I spoke of classes, the bagel spot I liked, and Aubrey's group.
He surprised me when we arrived at the house. He had done phenomenal with the little garden we had started. He had designed a greenhouse for the garden and had it constructed while I was gone. The outside temperature was chilly, cold even, but inside it was perfectly warm enough for the plants. Arugula, spinach, and even a few onions were doing exceptionally well, and I harvested a bit to use for Friendsgiving. In that moment, my father, talking so animatedly about the garden and how excited he was to surprise me, stirred something within me. For the first time in my life, I felt something in relation to him: I was happy he did this for me.
Even here, back in my apartment, the feeling hasn't left me. Every time I look in my fridge and see the fruits of my father's little labor of love, I smile. I never would have imagined a development like this. What originally started as a cover story for Maria's murder became something positive. Every cloud has a silver lining. I made plans with him to do some father-son gardening at the end of the semester.
It hasn't been that long since I became Nobody, but I've made progress toward my goal. It might take years or even decades, but I will become a complete person. My ruminations on the future are interrupted by my Cowl phone buzzing. It's a text from Miles that says he and Tuesday are back, but that they separated from Emma. I thank him for a job well done, letting them know I'll be in touch. She'll be calling me soon enough. As if preordained by God, Emma calls me.
"Hello. I hope your trip was pleasant," I said.
"It was both pleasant and enlightening. Your people were quite interesting. And I've got to say I think I might be even more curious after hearing the way they talk about you. It was nice to hear you're just as cagey and secretive with them as you are with me," Emma responded.
Enlightening? Now I have to find out what was said between all of them. Tuesday would just lie to fuck with me, and Emma would never willingly admit to breaking the rules I set for her. Miles wouldn't lie to me, even if it were bad news. For now, I have to remain the cold, aloof man she knows.
"I'm not cagey, I'm reserved. There is a difference. Secretive implies a negative connotation; I like to think of it as mysterious; it adds to my allure," I joked.
"So you do have a sense of humor; here I was worried you might be dreadfully serious at all times. Where are we meeting up? I know you wanted to discuss things," she said.
"Have you decided on which hotel you'd like to stay in? I can meet you there so we can make the necessary reservation," I offered.
"No, I haven't. Thought we could discuss things over dinner," she suggested.
This sounds suspiciously like a date. I'm not against it, I can grab the groceries I need after we go our separate ways.
"That's acceptable. What are you in the mood for?" I asked.
"Considering I don't have many clothes, it'll have to be somewhere not too fancy. We're in your city, so where do you recommend?" She asked, not answering my question.
She might've singlehandedly murdered an entire town, but she's still a woman. I don't know why I expected her to pick where she wanted to eat. I dealt with this with Maria, but I guess being single doesn't exempt me from the role of restaurant decider. There's a sit-down place that Dappur says has a cool vibe and good food; they serve Asian Australian fusion bar. What was the name of it? Chop Shoey.
"There's a place called Chop Shoey we can go to. The name is dumb, but the food and atmosphere are supposedly good. I'll meet you there. And don't worry, they do have a lot behind the place, so you don't have to try parking on the street. How does that sound?" I asked.
"It sounds delicious. How long do you need to get ready?"
"I can leave now. I'll see you there in twenty to thirty minutes. We can talk about your journey then," I said.
"Sweet. And thank you. For everything," Emma said, hanging up.
I step out of the rideshare onto the sidewalk a couple of buildings down from the restaurant. Miles let me know what kind of car she bought, and I want to get eyes on her before going inside to meet. She's sitting in the driver's seat, staring at the entrance, no doubt trying to do the same thing as me. Great minds think alike. Emma represents a leap in faith that I made before I had regained full control of my behaviors again. Even if past me was affected by personality pieces, I made the decision to spare her life and extend my hand. Her peculiar mental state could produce problems, but it could also make her an excellent tool. She belongs to me, and I will extract value from her one way or another.
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It's six p.m. on a Friday night in Quinstin, so the sidewalks are bustling. Blending into the crowd, I move in the direction of the parking lot. When I pass by the entrance to the lot, I slip away from the mob of people. I approach her metallic blue vehicle carefully. Even if I didn't know what the car I paid for looked like, the two powers inside her are a pulsing beacon to my ability radar. Her enhanced reflexes and physicals mean nothing when I know precisely where she is at all times. The windows are all up and the heat is on, so there's a good chance she won't hear me. Too focused on the entrance, she doesn't see me in her mirrors as I tap against her window. She turns toward me, her face furious, until she sees it's me. She smiles, getting out of the six-figure Lamborghini Alcurrucén she extracted from me. Truthfully, it doesn't hurt my bottom line much. Crime is quite lucrative, and the part of the pie I'm owed isn't small. Our initial investments have done quite well in the hands of Gerald McKinney. His gratitude has paid dividends.
"Eryk!" Emma exclaimed, pulling me in for a hug. She's not letting go, so I acquiesce and return the hug. "Seriously, thank you. I've never had someone do so much for me, especially someone who knows the real me."
"You're welcome, Emma. But this is an investment that I'm sure will pay off," I said.
My tone should make it clear that there is no other option for her.
"I understand completely. The fact that you aren't doing it for any bullshit like altruism or sympathy is what makes it mean so much to me. There aren't any hidden strings with our agreement, and our relationship is one of mutual benefit," she said, grinning.
"We can talk more once we're inside. Let's go," I said, pulling my coat tighter.
"Okay, aren't you going to offer your coat to the lady? You wouldn't let me go cold, would you?" She asked, batting her eyelashes at me.
"You're wearing a thick sweater, and I already saw the peacoat in the back. If you're cold, wear a coat, but you aren't getting mine," I said plainly, walking away from her.
"Wait up, Eryk," she yelled.
I hear the car lock with a beep as she comes up next to me. She doesn't grab her coat; instead, she wiggles her arm around mine. Now, it looks like we're a couple, walking arm in arm. She knows exactly what she's doing, and after the powers, she's strong enough that I can't stop her from doing it. I resign myself to my fate as we step inside the restaurant, a buzzing environment of activity. To put it simply, the place is packed. The staff all wore the same uniform: black pants, nonslip shoes, and a red and gold shirt that said Chop Shoey on the front and back. We walk right up to the hostess, who's tapping at a seating chart on a tablet. She looks up at us and smiles warmly.
"Hey, how are we doing tonight? Is it just going to be the two of you, or is there a bigger party?" The hostess asked.
"Nope, just us. We're here for date night," Emma lied, squeezing my arm even tighter.
I don't even respond; I just follow along as she turns us over to a waiter who leads Emma and me to our table. It's a high top on the elevated portion of the restaurant. The ceiling is covered in different colored, individual neon sign letters, spelling out the name of the restaurant, dying the establishment in fluorescent hues and long shadows. The walls have a blend of framed pictures with classic ink style paintings, and graffiti slang. There's some low thumping music playing, with bass that you can feel through the floor. There doesn't seem to be anyone younger than eighteen here, and no one older than forty. Dappur was right about this place. Our server places two menus down in front of us and tells us he'll be back with some water.
"Why did you tell the hostess we're dating?" I asked.
"I didn't. I said we were here for date night. And I told her because it was fun, and I'm in a brand new city in another country, living a life I didn't know was possible for me. Because the last time I was on a date was with my ex, and people stared at us. And not in a good way. What's the harm in me playing the little role of your girlfriend?" She asked.
"Because I live here, Emma. There are people here who know me, who would ask questions if I showed up with a random girl on my arm and then ask more questions if she suddenly stopped showing up," I explained.
"There you go again. Shutting down a line of conversation while leaving bread crumbs of secrets you won't share. Also, it's just for dinner and to strangers. Why does it matter if I lie a little? You certainly aren't exactly a stranger to lying," she said with a cruel smile.
"If you really want to play the role, you should know, being my girlfriend has a 100 percent mortality rate," I responded, face blank.
"Then it's a damn good thing I'm hard to put down. I'm fine with a little risk," she said, blowing a kiss at me.
If I hadn't gotten rid of all those pieces, I might've responded to all of this much differently. More violently. But she can't rile me up now that they're all gone. If she thinks she'll make me flustered, she'll be sorely disappointed. She won't make me break the facade, and two can play at this game.
"I guess we'll be putting that to the test later tonight," I said.
"I just might hold you to that, but it'll be hard to outdo our last session, seeing how close I came to dying," she remarked, biting her lip.
The back and forth with Emma isn't unpleasant, and she ironically does know me better than Maria ever did. Could I love her? I removed her ability to love, so I would have to find another piece for either her or myself if we were to be together. Which brings up an interesting question: do duplicate pieces exist? I admit my sample size isn't huge, but I haven't had a single repeat. What would a relationship even look like with her? Is it just Maria 2.0, but with violence and crime? The waiter chose now of all times to come back.
"Hey, did you wanna start with any apps?" He asked.
Neither of us responds; we haven't even looked at the menus.
"Sorry, did I interrupt a conversation? I can give you guys a couple more minutes," he said sheepishly.
"You're perfectly fine, don't apologize," I said, quickly scanning the menu. "We'll take the truffle oil rangoons to start. Seriously, you didn't interrupt anything important."
"Yeah, we were just discussing the insane sex we're going to have later," Emma said.
The waiter goes bright red, and her cruel smile is back. Her attempt to make me flustered fails, but now our server is embarrassed. Emma giggles as he stammers that he'll put the app in and be back. She enjoys fucking with people too much.