Nora~~

Wrapped in a blanket forced on me by Charlie—he keeps tugging it back into place whenever I let it fall—I sit on Tye's couch, staring at the black screen of the TV, Charlie on my left, Tye on my right.

         None of us know what to say. The only explanation Charlie gave Tye was that I "had a bad day."

         When Charlie saw me open my mouth to argue that I did in fact not have a bad day, he sent me a warning glare.

         Tye's phone buzzes. He picks it up. "Radia's on her way home from work. I'll let her know to come by."

         "I'm fine really."

         Charlie shifts, his leg bumping up against mine through the blanket, and I contemplate driving my leg into his just to watch him wince. "No, you aren't."

         "Why are you still here?"

         "I'm making sure you're going to be okay."

         I press my palms against my eyelids, blocking the world out. "You are my boss." In the darkness I see chrysanthemums. Not the ones planted in the conservatory but somewhere else. When I reached out toward that chrysanthemum, I didn't see the conservatory that surrounded me. I saw a sidewalk, part of a door hidden in an alcove, and beside the sidewalk berry red chrysanthemums in full bloom.

         I knew exactly where I was. Who it was that planted the flowers, but seconds later I was back in the conservatory reaching out to the flower, and whatever I knew, whatever I realized in that moment was gone.

         And maybe I freaked Charlie out, but he's overreacting. Especially with all this "we can't be alone together" nonsense, which he never explained how me being "different" has anything to do with that. If he has a problem being alone with me then he'll have to fire me because my job keeps us alone together for hours every day.

         Charlie sounds bitter when he answers me. "Does that mean I can't be worried about you?"

         "Well, you can't be alone with me, so you tell me."

         Tye stands, the couch shifting without his weight. "I'm going to give you two privacy."

         "No!" Charlie and I both say.

         I peel off the blanket and throw it on Charlie. "I don't care if you're my boss. You're being ridiculous." I didn't mention to him when my clothes were suddenly dry. I didn't even bring up the car that followed us to the conservatory. I didn't ask clever questions. "All I did was mention something that someone named Mom did, and you wrap me up in a blanket. What is a blanket supposed to do?"

         He stares at me, his mouth a hard line.

         Tye's tucked himself into a corner of the room, typing on his phone. "Who's Mom?" he asks, and Charlie's face pales.

         "I don't know," I say at the same time Charlie says, "No one."

         "I have some chicken I need to get on the stove, so"—Tye jabs his thumb toward the kitchen—"I'm going to do that."

         He leaves, and Charlie and I sit in silence, the blanket lying in his lap.

         I don't trust him not to lie. I know he keeps the truth from me. I trust him though not to hurt me, which is why I don't understand why he doesn't want us alone.

         Maybe he's afraid of me—wouldn't that be something? Charlie intimidated by me?

         The only sounds in the apartment come from Tye messing around in the kitchen—pots and pans clanging—and Charlie's soft breathing. He's so close, his arms mere centimeters from mine. I'm still in his shirt, and that is enough to make me feel some embarrassment about getting angry with him. Maybe his intentions are good. Just misplaced.

         "Nora?"

         I look up. "Yes?"

         His throat bobs. "If I could, I'd explain everything."

         "Mmhmm." I duck my head, flexing my fingers where they rest on my covered thighs.

         The clamor in the kitchen switches to the sizzle of oil.

         Tye's front door slides open, and Radia walks in dressed business causal and slips a keycard into her back pocket. I didn't know Tye had given her a key to his apartment. Cradled in her arms is a bouquet of flowers. "Hey. Tye said something was wrong."  She crosses over to the couch. Once she gets closer, I can see that the bouquet is made up of white daisies and berry red chrysanthemums.

         I grip Charlie's hand as he sucks in his breath.

         "A bunch of these were delivered to the office right before I left. A thank you from Doctor Pace for interviewing him last week."

         Doctor Pace? He couldn't have known what happened at the conservatory.

         "Smell them. What do you think?" She thrust the bouquet under my nose. "Not what you were expecting, right?"

         I inhale the scents of herbs and the earth. And my hands, they're digging in the dirt. My mom holds a bushel of blue chrysanthemums, the dirt and their roots cupped in her hands.

         "You have to make a new home for them," she says.

         Heather.

         I gasp, the vision shattering.

         Charlie's hands press into my shoulders, shaking me. Radia and Tye crouch in front of me. They all keep repeating my name.

         Heather. My mom's name is Heather. But what does it mean to be my mom?

         "I'm fine." I close my eyes. "It was the smell."

         "No, you aren't fine." Radia places her hands on my knees. "For at least three minutes, we couldn't get a response out of you. You just kept staring at nothing."

         "Three minutes?" I laugh weakly. "I just smelled your flowers a few seconds ago."

         "She's telling the truth, Nora." Charlie's arm is still around me, his hands holding my shoulders. "You can tell us what you saw; we're safe."

         I draw my knees to my chest, making Radia pull her hands away, and I look at him. "They're safe. Are you?"

         The tip of his tongue wets his lips, and he glances toward the kitchen. "I . . . yes." He looks back at me, and his hands grip my shoulders tighter. "Yes. I am."

Pulling my knees tighter against me, I recall what I saw. "I was digging in the dirt. This woman was there, holding chrysanthemums to be planted. She spoke to me." I glance up at Charlie and find his face only a few inches from mine. He gives one shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "My mom—I don't know what that means—but she was there. Her name's Heather."

         Swearing, Radia runs her hand through her braids. Tye gives me a funny look like he's weirded out and might be sick. The bouquet has been tossed on the floor, discarded, stray petals littered around it.

         "You said Richard Pace sent the bouquets?" Charlie's voice is hoarse. "What time?"

         "Doctor Pace, yes. Around 4:30."

         A couple hours after we had been at the conservatory. He couldn't have had all these bouquets prepared in such a short time. This is all just a coincidence.

         Radia pulls herself up from the floor. "Charlie, can I speak with you?" She tilts her head toward Tye's changing room.

         "Of course." Charlie pulls his hands away, taking with him the warmth I didn't know he was giving.

         With the two of them gone, Tye takes Charlie's spot. "My friend that I told you about, Isaac, he was acting like this before . . . before he went missing. Seeing things that weren't there, I mean. Saying words I'd never heard of. I don't want you running off, disappearing. Radia and I would be devasted."

         "Were you having Radia over for dinner?"

         He scratches the back of his head. "Yeah . . . but you and Charlie are more than welcome to stay. I mean it."

         "We're interrupting your date?"

         "I'm not sure I'd call it a date."

         I bury my face in my hands and groan.

         "Really, it's fine."

         "I'm so sorry." I stand. "I'm going to leave."

         He reaches up for me, but I pull my hand back.

         "Charlie will leave once he realizes I'm gone." I grab my bag from beside the door. "Tell Charlie I'll give him his shirt back tomorrow."

         "Why do you have his—"

         "Bye." I wave my hand over the door sensor.

         "Nora."

         I lift my hand in farewell and slip out the door.

Dr. Pace works way too fast.