Paisley groaned, an aggressive series of knocks stirring her out of her slumbering state. "Wake up, Paisley," a man's voice whispered. And for a moment, reality swirled with her subconscious as the silky tone collided with the garish thundering sound.
"What?" Her voice rasped, palms rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
"Paisley," another man's voice called from behind the locked door, pounding against its chipped white surface.
"Chris," she yelped, half falling from the couch. She wiped off semi-dried drool from the corner of her mouth and stumbled past her small black end table to answer the door. Her mind was in a daze, fingers fumbling with the locks before she stuttered, "H- hold on. I'm here!" An attempt to seem more aware than she was.
That voice. Her brows furrowed while Paisley's subconscious mulled over the words that clung to her thoughts. It couldn't be Chris she had heard; she was sure of that. His tone was deep, peppered with a slight southern drawl that lingered at the end of each vowel. What she had heard was soft yet rich, tickling like someone had whispered directly into her ear.
She swung open the door, and a warm embrace greeted her from around her legs. Little hands dug into her thighs while a sweet voice called out, "Morning, Whey!" The little girl, Lynette, looked up at her with a smile that lit up the room. If only the same could be said for the young girl's father, Chris.
He was both a co-worker and one of her closest friends. And now he stood in the door frame, visibly struggling to contain the frustration pulling his freckled features. She knew his temper, a trait he often shrugged off as part of being a 'ginger.' Though since the birth of his daughter she had watched him blossom. But he still struggled with it from time to time—like he was right now with that trademark angry crease in his brow.
"I'm sorry, Chris. I must have fallen asleep."
"It's fine. You're doing me a huge favor by taking her today anyway," he said, brushing off her excuse. Chris bent down to pry his daughter's grip from around her legs.
She watched him cup his daughter's hands in his. His head tilted forward, almost bumping into Lynette's. "Now, sweetie, I want you to be good for Paisley. Daddy will be back in a little while to come to get you, okay? You think you can behave while I'm at work?"
Lynette threw her tiny arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug. "Yes, Daddy," she answered.
Paisley felt her heart give a little squeeze. Were kids in her future? She had brought it up to her boyfriend James once or twice, but he seemed firm on the fact that he didn't want kids. A disappointment she wasn't keen on sharing with him. But there was something about seeing Chris with his little girl that pulled at that ache in her heart.
She squashed her troublesome thoughts before bringing in Lynette's things from the sparse apartment hall. Each of the uniform doors was shut and silent in the morning air. It didn't get too loud there, a win for Paisley since she enjoyed her quiet. She sat the bags inside, listening to them say their goodbyes.
A smile portrayed her emotions, watching Lynette pull her father close every time he tried to pull away. Just one more kiss, she heard the girl say. And Chris obeyed with a loud smooch comedically on both cheeks before he finally tugged away.
He shot Paisley a thankful smile before digging out the flimsy hat that stuck out from his back pocket. "Alright, I need to go," he said, fitting the cap over his buzzed auburn hair. "Call me if there's an issue."
She gave a firm nod of her head. It wasn't the first time she's watched Lynette and definitely wouldn't be the last. Not that she minded, the two of them had bonded through the years over many colorful cartoons and silly word books. In fact, it was Lynette that triggered her desire for kids. After the door closed shut behind her Paisley beamed a smile at the girl and asked, "So who's ready for breakfast?"
Lynette responded with a shriek, running full speed down the hall. And Paisley couldn't help but laugh to herself, jogging after her. Remember, you volunteered for this. She slid into the kitchen behind the girl with a finger pressed to her lips. "Shh, people are still sleeping," she warned. Lynette turned to mock her with a finger pressed against her mouth. A lopsided grin pulling at the corners. Cute.
She stepped around to her to pull out a mixing bowl and pluck a few packages from the cabinet. Something simple, yet delicious was her mark. And Paisley knew the perfect morning meal to kick off their day of play.
The apartment quickly filled with the warm, sweet aroma of blueberry muffins. The T.V. had given over from infomercials to brightly colored cartoons. Paisley watched on in wonder from the little alcove in her kitchen. Lynette's free-falling red curls bouncing while she sang and danced along with the rhymes.
A sharp chirp caught her attention. Her phone flashed blue with the promise of a message. What now? She set down the dirty mixing bowl before picking up the phone off the counter.
Incoming in five, read the text with a smiling face added at the end.
"Incoming?" she mumbled. "Oh sh-"
She bit her lower lip, feeling her eyes go wide with panic. This was great—just, great. Paisley had completely forgotten about the plans she had made with Henry. Up to the point that she made new plans with Chris last night to watch Lynette. And now, in five minutes, one of her oldest friends would be standing in her apartment for the very first time.
How many years had it been?
Five? Six?
She stood there her own muted silence, disheveled, with tiny flour-stained handprints across her pants. Lynette's cheerful five-year-old chatter spilled in from the other room, heavy with the promise of future chaos. And none of this was to mention the slight ache that pulsed in her temples.
Sleep had become a foreign concept lately. Last night was no different, tossing and turning in her bed. Eventually, she gave up completely, moving to the couch to watch late-night sitcoms. "Whey?" Lynette called. It was an odd nickname, the word not exactly close to Paisley's actual name. But it was one that brought fond memories every time she heard it. Lynette rushed toward her, wrapping her arms around in another tight embrace. Her smile dimpled those cherubic cheeks on both sides. "Come play."
Paisley smiled back at her. "Hey, let me tell you about a surprise I have coming. We're about to have someone fun stop by."
"Daddy?"
She patted the girl's head, chuckling. "No, I'm afraid not. This is Whey's friend from a long time ago, and guess what?"
Lynette stepped back, looking up at her with an unsure frown. "What?"
"He's going to try the muffins you baked!"
Lynette stomped her little foot, the tap of her flats setting off Paisley's tantrum alarms.
"No. Muffins are mine," she said with a frown.
Oh dear. Paisley sighed inwardly. It wasn't the reaction she was hoping for, and depending on how she handled it; she was possibly in for a morning meltdown. "How about this," she paused to kneel before her, "let's go wake up, James!"
Lynette's bright blue eyes flashed at the mention of his name; a flush painted her cheeks. From the moment Lynette had laid eyes on James, it was love at first sight. He was the very definition of heaven on earth to the child, and before Paisley knew it, the girl had run to the bedroom door, eagerly tapping at it with a tiny fist. "James! Wake up, James," she called from the hallway.
Paisley grimaced before she moved around the girl to open the door. James was not someone who woke easily or happily. Too many times did she recall days she had tried to wake him up in haste, and without fail, the two of them would fall into a shouting match. "Honey," she called out into the stillness.
Lynette bounded inside, scrambling to get up on the solitary bed that occupied the middle of the room. Her tiny body snuggled up next to the large lump occupying the center.
"James," the child cried out once more. Her tiny hand patted the cover as if it would entice him to leave the comfort of his own blanket styled cocoon.
"James, you need to wake up. I need you to wake up." Paisley spoke in a harsh whisper. The lump stirred slightly, causing Lynette to giggle as she moved to lean up against him.
"Honey, wake up. Lynette is here," she pressed, letting her voice raise in volume. A muffled groan sounded from beneath the thick black and white comforter. She watched an arm poke out from one of the sides, then the other swung free and dangled off the edge. James slowly unfurled himself from his cocoon, stretching himself across the bed. "Also, uh, Henry will be here. . . Any minute now," she tacked on.
James groaned again, this time sounding irritated while he muttered a reply.
"What? I'm sorry. I can't hear you when you're under the covers like that." She peeled back the blanket to reveal his face. "Now, what was that?"
"Why the fuck is he coming over?"
She felt anger creep up her spine and narrowed her eyes at him. "First, watch it. Lynette is in here," she admonished him. "Second, I told you earlier this month Henry was flying in to visit family and that he was stopping by."
James looked at her, traces of sleep still mingling across the frustration etched on his face. He rolled his head to the side, looking at the beaming Lynette before glancing back at her. It was slow, but a look of realization snapped across those hazel eyes of his.
"Oh. Oh, yeah. Crap. I forgot." He sighed, rubbing a hand across his face before turning to the girl with a sleep-laden grin. "Hey, you."
Lynette burst into laughter, lunging at him while before she wrapped her arms around James' face.
"Okay. Okay." He chuckled, pulling away and sitting up. "Just, just take her out of here, and I'll be out in a minute."
Paisley felt herself relax. James wasn't one to like company. Not that they didn't have guests from time to time. But he, much like herself, preferred a sense of isolation. Especially after a day's work of dealing with people face to face. She reached out a hand to the reluctant Lynette. "Come on, sweetie. Let's go check on our muffins."
"Muffins," James inquired, sounding more alert by the second.
Lynette whipped her head around and slid off the bed. "Yeah! Me and Whey made them! Do you what some," she asked brightly before looking up at Paisley. "Can we bring him some? I think James needs one!"
Her enthusiasm was radiant.
"Well, they'll need to cool first before anyone can eat them. Right now, they're just too hot."
The girl's face fell, mumbling out a soft, "Okay."
James groaned, stretching out lazily once again. "Hey, what time is it?"
Paisley pointed to the small digital clock on his nightstand and read the glaring red numbers out loud. "It's eight o'clock." James grabbed a pillow and buried his face into it. Mock crying as he kicked his feet on the bed.
"Is he okay," Lynette asked.
"Yes, he's fine. He's just a big baby." But Paisley couldn't help but smile back at him, wondering how it was that she managed to put up with his antics all these years.
She moved toward the door when a faint shimmer in the corner of her eye caught her attention. She stopped, hesitant, before turning her head and looking into the corner where the shimmer was. Her lungs held a shallow breathe as she waited for the silence to reveal whatever lurked behind it. A thread of unease, similar to the one she felt last night, wound its way around her.
What was that?
Paisley paused, a faint shadow of a face appearing before her. It's twin hollow eyes staring mere inches away. She let out a startled gasp, heart slamming into her ribs, but when she blinked again, the shadow had disappeared, and only emptiness greeted her.
Okay, you must be tired. That's it. You need sleep. Lots and lots of sleep. She rationalized, gulping down air. Dawn had already come before she drifted off on the couch earlier. So, it made sense that she was now delusional. Right? No wonder you forgot about Henry.
"You okay," James asked, now fully awake and alert.
"Yeah, I'm just tired," Paisley said. "Alright, so, let's go check on those muffins!" She spun around on her heel, urging the girl out of the bedroom to give James a moment of peace. And away from the growing sense of apprehension that sought to make its home in her gut. Between the weird feeling from last night, the voice that had woken her up, to now this, Paisley was feeling all out of sorts.
"Whey," Lynette asked as they reached the kitchen.
"Yeah, sweetie?"
"So, who is coming over?" She inquired, leaning against the wall. Careful not to get too close to the open oven as Paisley removed the muffins.
"Ah," she said with hesitation, closing the oven door. She tried to think of a way to explain it. "His name is Henry, and he's been my friend since I was in school."
"School? Like, like, my class?"
Paisley chuckled. "Well, sort of but with a bunch of kids, and it goes on almost all day."
"Oh, that's a long time." Lynette walked to her side, standing on her tippy toes to get a better look at the muffins cooling on the faux marbled counter. "So why is he coming today?"
"Well, after school ended, Henry went far away. And this is the first time he's had time to come visit." Paisley looked down at Lynette, wondering if what she said made any sense to her. How does one explain something she didn't fully understand? Sum up all that Henry and Paisley used to be and who they were now. She couldn't seem to find the words that would answer all the questions Lynette had or even the questions she still had.
In the background, she could hear the clink of the toilet lid as her boyfriend shuffled about. "Remember to flush," Paisley called out, her annoyance still simmering from last discovery.
"Does James not flush?" Lynette's nose wrinkled in disgust, causing Paisley to laugh.
"Boys are gross," she teased the girl when a hardy knock echoed from the front door.
"Oh, that must be Henry!" She scooted the muffin pan further away from the counter's edge, mindful that it was out of reach from curious little fingers before rushing to the door. She wasn't sure why, but her heart stammered in her chest while she reached for the knob. It had been years—though they kept up once in a while online—since they last stood face to face.
They had hardly seen each other that last year of high school. She could still recall the familiar sting of betrayal as her fingers twitched nervously. Paisley pushed past the array of unwanted emotions and flung open the door. Today is a weird one for sure.
"Hey," his voice rumbled, familiar despite the fact age had ravaged his once boyish features. Henry's dark hair was still as curly as she remembered, looking like someone set a mop on top of his head. But there were now fine lines in that tanned face and a sense of tiredness in the shadows beneath his brown eyes.
Her nerves fled, relaxing as an empty feeling took their place. What did she expect after all these years? Butterflies? The ones that once danced across her heart in her teens seemed to have died.
She mustered a warm smile and stepped back, bidding Henry to enter while she greeted him with a warm, "Hello."
"Man, this is weird," he remarked, glancing around at the apartment's sparse furniture before settling his dark eyes back on Paisley.
Man, you're telling me.
Her cheeks burned, noticing how heavy his gaze lay on her. Was he noticing how much she had aged? Did he notice of the new crow's feet that had started to form around her eyes? Or maybe he was seeing the heavy bags that took up residence beneath them.
Her insecurity was stirring.
"Sorry. There's not much in the way of a grand tour, but, um, here's the living room." She gestured to the small, well-worn sofa and modest flat screen before pointing back to the hallway. "And there's our hallway, the kitchen on the right. And in the very back is the bedroom and the bathroom. So, yeah. Not much."
"You have a kid?" The surprise in his voice caught Paisley off guard as she followed his gaze to the sheepish Lynette, who peered out of the kitchen.
Heat rose and stained her cheeks.
"Oh. No, no, no," she denied while her brain scrambled for the information to set things straight. "She's not mine. Just watching her for a co-worker." She gestured to the girl. "Lynette, come out. I want you to meet Henry."
"No!" Lynette folded her arms back across her chest with a pout. "I don't want too. I want James!"
"Did I hear someone call my name?" James poked his head out of the bedroom, shooting the girl a grin before stepping out.
"Ah, that must be the boyfriend." Henry sighed behind Paisley. She looked back with raised brows, was that a note of disapproval she had heard? She shook her head and dismissed the thought. She was tired and probably jumping to conclusions.
"The one and only. Henry, this is James. James, this is Henry."
James strode towards them, hand extended. "Hey, man. What's up?" For a moment, she admired him. Everything about James was relaxed, from his grey sweatpants to the slightly off-colored white t-shirt. His hair was similar in a way to Henry's, in that it laid there like a mop of waves, but it stuck up near the back, giving him an almost comedic look. It suited him, though, giving those hazel eyes an extra spark. He honestly didn't care what people thought of him, let alone some old fling from Paisley's past.
In contrast, Henry looked every bit of the aggressor as he took James' hand in a firm, quick handshake. His neatly pressed navy shirt wrinkled with his movement, while she noticed his black jeans tighten around his hips. Henry had filled out, not in an overweight way but with muscle. "Not much. Flight just landed about an hour ago. Figured I'd drop by here for part of the day before heading out to my mom's." He smiled.
"Oh yeah? You're in the air force, correct?"
"Yeah, going on eight years."
James nodded, clearly impressed. "So how do you like it? What do they have you doing?"
"Eh, it's not bad. I mainly just work on computers and technical stuff."
Paisley took this as the perfect time to slip away, mentally berating herself for agreeing to this little visit. She often questioned why she maintained the friendship after all these years. Probably because she still clung to some hope of some kind of spark, but while the man stood in her living room she realized that there was nothing between the two of them. Frankly, as hard as it was to admit, she just had a hard time letting people go.
"Let's get these boys some muffins." Paisley urged Lynette back into the kitchen, clattering around as she looked for a decent serving bowl.
"Here, go set that on the coffee table while I clean up. Okay?"
Paisley carefully loaded the round plastic bowl into the five-year-old's outstretched arms. She took care to pop the muffins out from the tarnished pan carefully before sending the girl back out. Truthfully, she was glad for the distraction from her anxiety while busying herself with scrubbing out the mixing bowl.
"The muffins looked like they came out pretty good," Henry's voice boomed, rattling her from her train of thought before she spun around.
"Jesus." She breathed. "Don't sneak up on me like that!"
Henry laughed. It was the same laugh she remembered from high school, shaking his large form as it rumbled from his belly. "Sorry." He smiled at her. "So, how have you been?"
"Pretty good. I mean, nothing thrilling, but it's life." She shrugged off the inquiry. In all honesty, she didn't have much to talk about. She lived a quiet life. Work, home, and work again. It's not like she was out having the time of her life, but she was happy. Wasn't she? Paisley frowned while she wiped her hands off on the drying towel, turning back to Henry while fatigue pulled at her. "What about you? Last I heard you were getting married."
"Yup. In three months, actually." He toyed with the plain silver band around his finger.
"Already wearing it?"
"Yeah, Lacey wanted me to wear it while I was away." A bemused smirk crossed his face. "Wanted to make sure all the ladies knew I was taken." He wiggled his eyebrows at her, setting the two off in a fit of giggles.
The tension was dissipating between the two of them. It was nice, just having someone to talk to besides James. Someone who used to know her so well. She moved to tuck a strand of dark hair behind her ear, looking back up at him and frowned. Again, her eyes drawn to the space beside him. For a moment, she could have sworn that there was another shadow that stood beside Henry. But a second look proved her wrong. The knot in her stomach tightened, despite what her eyes saw.
"You okay?" Henry asked.
"Uh, yeah. I'm fine." She forced a laugh. "Just tired. Hardly slept last night."
"Oh, that excited to see me?"
Paisley uttered an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes as she pushed past him. "Oh please," she teased before she joined James and Lynette in the living room. Lynette was practically on James' lap, shoving a muffin into her mouth while he scrolled through his phone.
"I take it the muffins were a success?" she asked while leaning over the back of the couch, looking at the duo with raised eyebrows.
With a dutiful yet playful tone, James said, "The best, babe. Almost like you made them from a perfected pre-mixed package." He flashed her a wink while Paisley stuck her tongue out at him.
"I helped. Didn't I, Whey?" Lynette piped up, bits of muffin spilling from her mouth.
"Couldn't have done it without you, kiddo."
She pushed back up and off the sofa, turning to Henry. "Did you get any?"
"Uh, thanks, but no thanks. Not a fan of muffins."
Lynette turned around; her mouth opened in clear disbelief. "How do you not like muffins?" She nearly shouted at him.
Paisley stifled a giggle behind her hand as she watched Henry scramble for a response. His mouth gaping open and shut while each excuse died on his lips. "Uhhh."
"Well, not everyone likes muffins," said Paisley, coming to his rescue. Now it was her turn to be stared down by the girl, those blue eyes questioning the very existence of who she was.
"You don't like green beans, but your dad likes green beans. It's the same thing," she explained.
Lynette rolled her eyes and sighed. "Okay. Still weird," she said, resigning from the fight as she sunk back into her spot.
Paisley looked over at Henry, who mouthed a silent, 'Thank you.' She gave him a little shrug before another shimmer caught her eye. Again? She took a step to the side, her eyes searching the wall behind Henry but found nothing.
"You sure you're okay?" Henry asked, his voice full of concern as he looked behind him—trying to find what Paisley was glaring so intensely at.
"Ye—yeah, I just. I just thought I saw something behind you is all." The feeling in her gut had increased tenfold. Her skin prickled with a sense of unease and apprehension.
"Maybe you should lie down?" Now James was speaking. He had twisted himself on the couch, looking at her with concern. "It's not like we don't have the rest of the day."
"I'm fine. I'm fine. I just need some coffee." She waved away their worried looks while trying to push away the uneasy tingle that pressed at the base of her skull. "I'll be right back." She moved down the hall and into the bathroom, sighing as the door clicked behind her. Alright. Calm down.
Paisley stepped up to the sink, turning on the cool water and letting it slide over her fingertips. That niggling feeling, the one that had kept her up late last night. It was back and stronger than ever. It whispered that something wasn't quite right, like a faint warning. "You're just tired. That's all," she whispered to herself, trying to calm the cold coil of panic that edged up her spine. She was just overtired and nervous about Henry being there, that's all.
"Now go out there and stop being weird," she lectured herself, running a damp hand over her face as she reached for the faucet to shut off the water. A blood-curdling scream emanated from the living room. Her heart hammered in her chest before leaping into her throat. Her fingers curled around the doorknob and flung open the door; her panicked gazed locking onto the figures standing down the hall.
One. Two. Three. Four. She counted.
Behind Henry, a misty figure stood, smaller than him but unmistakable against the pale-yellow walls. James had abandoned the couch, hand reaching out toward Henry. Meanwhile, Lynette's fingers trembled as she pointed toward another looming figure that stepped out of the kitchen. It was like before, in the bedroom, those empty eyes turning to stare at her. Only this time, she wasn't the only one to see.
Five.
Paisley tried to shout—she tried to move, run, anything. But her body wouldn't respond. Her tongue felt thick in her mouth, almost foreign, while it refused to obey. The edges of her vision blurred while darkness swirled. She could see them moving as though they were treading through quicksand. James had turned to look at her. Horror plain to read across his unkempt face. James, her thoughts cried, begging for her voice to come back.
Somewhere the sound of glass shattering was heard; it being the last clear sound to echo in her ears. A man's voice whispered from within, "Relax. It'll be over soon." It felt like silk against the chaos exploding in her mind, binding all her fears as she surrendered to the inky abyss that pulled her under.