Midnight Wonders

2.3.1. An Unfamiliarity in the Routine

"I have brought plenty of things to keep your sister company," said Emma, looking very pleased with herself as she ran her hands over the smooth leather bag in her lap. "You would be amazed at the amount of things one can do that take very little energy. I'd say some of the seniors themselves are half asleep when I do things with them!" She laughed, sounding breathless.

"You didn't have to," Luc said, realizing as he said it how strange it sounded for him to say that she had no need to be prepared. "Cora is enough company to keep a whole crowd." He had a Ziploc bag of pistachios from Catherine and offered them to Emma. She did not even notice the gesture, and he tucked them away into his bag once more. "Today is a good day for you to come. I have math tests to grade."

"How many students are in your class?" she asked. She had asked this question before, but Luc had long discovered that memory was rather fickle and people had much more things to worry about than the questions asked in casual conversation. It was useful in teaching, too.

"Twenty-two," he said.

"Twenty-two math tests!" she said. "I'd go mad." The bus stopped at the station. Emma eagerly followed him down the steps. "How far is your house?"

"A five-minute walk," Luc said. She fell into step beside him, and they made their way home. They took off their shoes in front of the door, and Luc marveled at the way it looked to have someone else's shoes lined up neatly beside his and Cora's. They had not had anyone over in so very long.

Luc unlocked the door and let Emma in first. She bounded inside with great cheer and waited as Luc entered, shutting the door behind him. He put his bag on the couch and led her towards Cora's room. "She wanted to be up when you came," Luc told Emma, "but she's probably asleep again."

He knocked on Cora's door, waited a moment, then pushed the door open. He stepped in first, and Emma followed. Cora was sleeping very neatly that afternoon, probably in an attempt to appear presentable when Emma inevitably came to find her asleep. She looked every bit a sleeping beauty, delicate hands folded atop her stomach.

"You can put your things anywhere," Luc said softly. Emma went to put her bag on the dresser, and Luc went over to Cora. He placed his hand on her shoulder and shook, gently. "Cora," he said. "Cora. Emma's here." He flicked her lightly on the neck.

Cora squirmed. Her eyes were struggling to open, he could see. She brought a hand up to cover them.

"Must we wake her?" Emma said. She'd appeared at Luc's side, quite suddenly. He almost started to see her there. Her gaze was fixed on Cora, and there was an expression on her face he couldn't quite explain. Pity, perhaps? No, there was something more to it.

"She'll be upset if I don't," Luc replied. "She was excited to meet you."

It had been a little over a month since Luc and Emma had exchanged numbers, and just about three weeks since they had arranged this first meeting. Luc was horrified that Emma requested no pay, and wondered how she made her living with only volunteer work.

"Well, isn't that what marriage is for?" she had said, a glitter in her eye, and Luc was now left with the image of Emma having married a rather modest millionaire in a ceremony that involved a private helicopter, which the millionaire in question would be very modest about and insist was one of the smaller ones in the family's possession, and Emma would laugh behind her painted hands and brush her veil out of her face as the whirling of the helicopter blades made it flail limply about her. Or it may very well have been a joke, which still did not quite make things clearer.

Luc had offered various sums of money, but had finally given in once it was clear Emma would not budge. He still felt terrible about it, so that morning he had taken extra care to make his bed (as if it mattered?) and brush the blossoms off his sill and round the front porch (he had not cleaned them much in the past month, and they now painted the ground outside) and prepare extra sandwiches that now sat chilling in the fridge and roast extra hazelnuts from his stash in the corner of the kitchen. He had not brought a bag to collect the hazelnuts. He ought to have, but he didn't. The stash came from whatever he had carried in his hands back home. It was enough to last him the days he happened not to wake up in the middle of the night already halfway out the door. He felt it necessary to reduce his possibility of getting bodied by a car while walking at night (conscious or not) as much as he could.