Chapter 37: Chapter 35: Just Call Me Ryne Moore I.

The sound of his crying woke me up as it did every day, letting me be greeted by photo fourteen of Nolan stuck to my ceiling.

"Good morning, Nolan!" I told him, turning toward my other pillow, seeing photo twenty-two. "Hi, little Nolan." I got up, looking at my forty-two photographs. "Hello, Nolans!"

I stood up, releasing the tension in my back until it cracked. Creak. "There’s nothing better than being greeted by his beautiful smiles."

I walked to the bathroom, ready to begin my routine with a big smile.

Chapter 35: Just Call Me Ryne Moore I

Yesterday Nolan liked my outfit — I noticed it in his lovely eyes, so I’ll dress the same. Just with a few small changes. Setting aside the neckline and the padding, I wore a more normal shirt. A long-sleeved pink one Mayo bought me. Fastening its buttons one by one.

"Maybe he won’t look at me as much with this one," I said, doing a turn. "But it’s pretty — at minimum I’ve earned one little kiss."

I completed the outfit with the wine-colored skirt, which I discovered had four buttons that, when undone, released more fabric, covering me above the knee the way I liked. "Mayo’s jaw is going to drop when she sees it."

I wore one skin-colored stocking and one black one. I liked that style, but I didn’t like being cold. Finishing with my only pair of brown shoes.

"Perfect," I said, turning in front of the mirror. "At minimum I’ve earned two little kisses."

When I finished getting dressed, an idea wandered through my mind, which made me pull my old little chalkboard out from under the bed. I looked at the last title I had written a year ago: Mango or strawberries — which fruit does he like more.

"What lovely titles I used to write," I whispered, looking at the complicated diagram. "In the end orange won, and by a wide margin."

I wiped the board clean with my hand, blowing away all that white dust. And with a new piece of chalk I began to write: Plan for surviving Mayo’s last two days.

"These last two days Nolan will be studying," I thought, looking at the note on my phone with his schedule broken down by the minute. "So Mayo will be by my side at work. I should think about things she can and can’t do."

I held the chalk, thinking about what I could do to keep from thinking about what I couldn’t. "What if I give her an endless list of useless things to buy?" I smiled. "Maybe I’ll send her for starfruit on the excuse that it’s for decorating the plates."

But the moment I went to write it, my arm stopped. "Trust is love," I remembered. "I gave her such a hard time and here I am making the same mistakes."

My finger let go of the chalk as a reflex. "It’s too late to be careless now, Clear," I told myself, looking at the clock. "Don’t be sloppy."

I nodded.

I left my apartment ten minutes early, after saying goodbye to my forty-two photographs of Nolan, adding one more in his Vancouver Moose jersey.

When I arrived I heard him — his car parking in the back. And with the thought of his eyes looking at me, I ran in his direction. When I turned the corner I saw him, stepping out of the car with a bread roll in his hand.

"Hi, Nolan!" I said, waving my fingers at him.

He saw me, opening his eyes a little wider than usual. "Ryne!" he said, opening his arms. "You look very beautiful today," he said, just like Mrs. Prats.

"You always say the same thing," I answered, being wrapped in his large hands. "And I always like hearing it."

"And what’s this lovely surprise?" he asked. "You don’t usually arrive this early."

I laughed at his attempt at a compliment. "What? I can’t see my man before he goes off to study? Since when did that become illegal?"

"I don’t know, but it deserves a criminal sentence." He leaned in and kissed me on the lips. "I sentence you to helping me cut the vegetables and prepare the lunches."

"Can I reduce my sentence with good behavior, plenty of compliments, and a couple of kisses?"

He smiled, moving a strand of hair that was getting in my face. "Are you trying to bribe the judge? You know that’s a federal crime and could earn you a life sentence?"

"Yes, I’m aware," I answered, giving him a kiss. "But I’d call it good behavior."

We both went inside, putting on our respective aprons. He started pulling vegetables from the fridge.

"Most of the neighbors are over fifty with high cholesterol," he said, slicing the carrot into sticks. "That’s why their breakfasts always include carrot sticks, half an apple cut into four wedges, a slice of toasted whole-grain bread with avocado, and scrambled eggs with extra egg white and a little salt. Plus a separate plate of lentils."

"And where do I come in?" I asked. "I don’t know how to make lentils."

"Don’t worry, I’ll prepare those," he answered with a smile. "I just need your help with the vegetables and the fruit — I’ll handle everything that involves fire."

"Don’t think I don’t know how to make an egg," I answered, watching him raise one eyebrow in a duel. "But you go ahead and make them — I have plenty of vegetables to cut."

He held out his knife. "I grant thee thy blade of labor. I await a great performance; write great ballads of thy deeds."

"I thank thee for thy trust," I said, taking the weapon. With the same grip as in Dilein’s apartment.

We both started working at an uneven pace. I had just finished cutting one carrot and he already had three plates with the egg and bread.

I cut and cut and he pulled ahead. I had never noticed how efficient he was compared to a normal person until that moment.

I just needed to cut faster, faster. Three precise cuts, flip, three cuts and one vertical to separate. Three precise cuts, flip, three cuts and one vertical to separate. Three precise cuts, flip, three—

"Ow!" I cried, dropping the knife.

He turned instantly, watching the blood run from my finger as I was already on my twelfth carrot. "Are you alright, Ryne? Where did you cut yourself?" he asked, taking my hand.

"Yes, I’m fine," I said, looking at the little cut and showing it to Nolan. "It was just a tiny cut."

He took it, leading me to the tap, turning the water pink. "You shouldn’t go so fast, Ryne," he said. "I expected you to be on your fourth carrot, not your seventh."

"It’s just that you were already on plate fourteen," I murmured, looking at the full table. "I didn’t want to fall behind."

He blinked once before letting out a small laugh. "Ryne, you were never going to be a burden," he took my hand and began to examine it. "I was the one who asked for your help. If you fell behind I would help you; if you moved ahead I would speed up. But the only one who could make mistakes here was me."

"Don’t say that. You did an incredible job," I answered.

He stroked my head, kissing me on the forehead. "So did you — you just made one small mistake," he answered. "If you want to stop and go do the chairs and let me finish this, I’ll understand."

"I want to keep going," I interrupted, looking him in the eyes. "Remember what I told you that day in the library?"

He nodded, looking back at me. "But you know it’s not necessary — don’t push yourself so hard."

"I’m not made of porcelain, Nolan," I said, picking up the knife. "I can handle this and more." I smiled. "That’s why I’m employee of the month."

He opened his eyes, extending his hand. "Let’s make a deal," he began. "If you finish helping me here, I’ll finish helping you with the chairs. Fair enough, cook’s assistant?"

I nodded — one downward motion of approval. "With pleasure, Chef," I answered. "Just call me Ryne Moore."

The bell announced her arrival with its eternal clink clink, right at the hour we were supposed to start working. "Good morning!" she shouted, only to find the two of us already sitting down, enjoying a hearty and nutritious breakfast. "Am I late?" asked Mayo.

"Only to order your breakfast," we answered at the same time with a laugh, while Nolan handed her a glass of orange juice. "If you want, grab some lunch and sit down — Mr. Arrit won’t be here for another twenty minutes."

She took the glass, setting it on the table carelessly. "I’m late," she said, picking up her apron. "I need to work."

The two of us looked at each other, taking in her strange enthusiasm. "That’s not like her," said Nolan. "She never wants to work."

I looked at the clock. She had arrived right on time. Very strange.