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He put his fork down, studying her intently. “It must be difficult, starting from zero.”
She shrugged, glossing over those first few painful and confusingyears after the accident. “I have a lot of lists of books and movies that I should read or see. It helps me make sense of the world.”
“That’s good,” he said, scooting a little closer so he could see the list.
She held up the page filled with names, a score rating, and the occasional line that explained why people still talked about the movie or referenced it in a particular way.
He reached out, running his fingers along her crowded printed lines, a touch as gentle as his tone.
She waited to see if he would say something else, something that would cross the line from sympathy to pity. But he didn’t. He just smiled and asked, “So what’s next on the list?”
The tension that she’d been holding dissipated. She did that a lot, she realized. Braced herself.
You need to chill out.
He was waiting for an answer so she ran her finger down the page. “I’m currently wading through the Bill Murrayoeuvre. I just sawCaddyshackand hadRedson while I cleaned once. Up next is eitherGhostbustersorGroundhog Day.”
Garrett’s eyes lit up like it was Christmas morning. “Both. Let’s watch both.”
A corner of her mouth lifted. “I don’t think we’ll make it through both.”
“Oh, come on. It’s Friday!”
She didn’t have the heart to tell him that she had another shift at the kiosk the next day. Weekends meant nothing to people in the service industry.
Deciding harmony was more important, she shrugged. “Ghostbustersit is,” she said, finding it high up in the options.
Emma curled up at the other end of the long couch with her plate and picked up her fork.
The pasta burrito was, in a word, sublime.
Filled with chicken instead of beef, the dish was perfectly prepared. Not that Emma had a whole lot of experience with fine dining, but this had to be one of the best things she’d ever eaten. It wasso good that when Dana Barrett got possessed, Garrett went back for a huge second helping instead of watching her pant all sexy and animallike.
When the marshmallow monster attacked, he timed it just right, bringing out dessert and handing it to her.
Emma burst into laughter, picking up the marshmallow and toothpick creation stuck to the top of a berry and cream dish served in a little pot.
“How did you do this so fast?” she asked, comparing her marshmallow man to his big brother rampaging on the screen.
“Very sloppily,” he said. “Else it would have a little hat. Out of what, I’m not sure.”
Emma bit her lip, giving him a coy glance before biting the head of the man-made monster.
“Be careful of the toothpicks,” he warned, looking away quickly when she sucked one of the miniature marshmallows off the stick.
“Okay,” she said, frowning when he wouldn’t look at her. Wondering why he seemed uncomfortable, she finished her dessert.
When the credits began to roll, she expected him to retreat to his room, but he surprised her by insisting on starting the second movie, which was equally entertaining.
But Emma had worked on her feet all day. She was also full of delicious food and sitting on an absurdly comfortable couch. Soon she could no longer fight the fatigue and her eyelids closed without volition.
She felt the plate being removed from her hand.
“I’m up,” she mumbled.
The voice came from far away. “Debatable.”
There was rustling fabric, and then she was levitating.