Indigo(103)

“That’s not really what I—”

“Sam, stop.”

He blinked, giving her an uncertain smile. “Okay.”

Nora exhaled and turned away, pacing a moment, trying to figure out what words ought to be coming out of her mouth. Finally she faced him again.

“You weren’t talking to me in a ‘friends with benefits’ way just now.” Sam started to deny it, but Nora waved the protest away. “No, it’s okay. It’s … it’s good, in fact.”

“Which is weird, because it doesn’t seem like you think it’s good.”

She perched on the end of the coffee table but did not reach out to him. Instead, she fixed her gaze upon his. “It’s only been a few days. You’re still recovering. Maybe your brain’s addled by painkillers or your concussion, and I want to know that you’ve thought this through.”

“I have, Nora,” Sam said in that business-y tone she’d always thought of as his grown-up-people-talking voice. “I have.”

For a few seconds they sat looking at each other. Then she nodded once and stood up again. “I’ve got to go.”

“Nora…”

“No, really. I’m not ditching you because of this. There’s something I need to do, something I’ve got to do or I’ll never feel right again.”

She picked up her coffee mug and walked it into the kitchen, rinsed it in the sink, and put it in the drainer, then made her way back into the living room, where Sam still sat with his own coffee, watching her the way she imagined novice lion tamers watched their charges the first time in the big cage.

“Nora?”

“I’ll be back later to look in on you,” she promised, “but we’re tabling this discussion until the doctor gives you an all clear. No way I’m letting myself get involved with you right now.”

“Define right now.”

Nora pointed a finger at him. “I’m not kissing you until I know you’re no longer concussed.”

Sam grinned.

Nora wrapped the autumn shadows around her, stepped into them, and vanished.

*

When Indigo stepped from the darkness, it was into the apartment two floors above Nora’s. The space remained empty. The fall sunlight beyond the windows barely seemed to reach into that dusty space, which only days before had been filled with light and laughter, with furniture, and with the kindness of a woman who had fast become her best friend … all of which had existed only because Indigo had summoned it into being.

All of which had existed because Nora had wished it. Needed it. She had created an imaginary friend for herself, but that light and laughter and warmth, that friend, had become real and true. Of all the things she had done wrong, all of the things the darkness had taken, it had given her one true thing in return.

Indigo let the shadows go. She needed to be Nora right now.

Nora opened her hands and closed her eyes. She searched her memory for the lamp in the corner, for the big plush chair with the chocolate stain on the arm, for the spider plant hanging by the window.

With her eyes still closed, she heard a familiar laugh, and she grinned as an unfamiliar joy filled her.

“Woman,” she heard, “you look like hell swallowed you down and then spat you out.”

Nora opened her eyes, her smile growing. “Shelby. Welcome home.”