Art Of Magic by K.J

Author:K.J. [K.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-07-31T22:00:00+00:00

***

There was still decent swelling at the back of Dad’s head, but the surgeon had decided—rather cavalierly—that he was able to go home, and so my parents had departed Monday at mid-morning. I immediately went back to work. It was either that or sit in my apartment crying—again!—at how stressed I was about Dad.

Trailing after the students who were leaving my Modern Composition class on Tuesday afternoon, enjoying their “thanks” and “see you tomorrows”, I swung the door closed, and turned straight into the path of Rica. We regarded each other.

“Hi,” I said tentatively, and shifted my box of papers to my hip.

Rica quirked a small smile. “Hello, Cath. How’s your dad?”

“He’s home, being the world’s worst patient.” I huffed a quick laugh. “He’s supposed do nothing for another two weeks, then he comes back down to Melbourne for more tests.”

Rica slowly nodded. “Good. You’ll let me know if anything changes, won’t you?” Her gaze was so genuine. So sincere. And my resolve, along with my heart, cracked a little. I swallowed, and even though the lump in my throat took up most of the space, unbidden words slipped out.

“I miss you,” I whispered, and Rica swayed forward, like she’d misheard.

“I miss you, too.” She’d heard. The grey in her eyes was a tempest of dismay, and I reached forward to touch her but withdrew my hand just as quickly. My unconscious action forced the air from my lungs and I scrambled to retrieve the oxygen.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

She hesitated, then took a small step towards me. “Please don’t apologise. You meant it, and I liked hearing it.”

“Did you? Oh. Good.” I was floundering. Drowning in futile inaction. “I don’t know what to do, Rica,” I murmured, my eyes darting about, landing on students, the floor, the ceiling, then finally up into Rica’s gaze.

She considered me. “Mm. You’re not the only one.”

I shifted the box to the other hip.

“But we do know what to do, don’t we?” I said, hoping she would understand my inarticulate statement. Rica leaned closer, so her voice wouldn’t catch the attention of the students wandering past.

“I know what I should do, Cath” she said, huskily. “I should stop thinking about your vivaciousness. I should stop thinking about your dry wit, how pretty you are, your confidence. That’s what I should do, but I’m not going to do that, because I can’t. What are you going to do?”

I bit my bottom lip. This was so difficult. I had no control over the words that fell out. “I’m going to think about your gorgeous eyes. I’m going to think about your humour, your goodness, and the way you look at someone like they’re the most important person in the world.”

Rica’s chest had stopped moving, holding her breath throughout my list of things I shouldn’t be doing, then she exhaled softly.

“Well, we know what to do, then,” she said. “Sounds very much like we continue to do exactly what we’ve already been doing. Until we change and try something different.

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