Low Sided A.J. Downey (ebook reader macos TXT) 📖

first before I let you know what’s in the box.” Sauley handed me a smaller manila envelope.

“Oh, um, okay.” I laughed slightly and slid into the booth he occupied, an old brown apple crate with a nest of cardboard shred – like packing material overflowing from it sitting on the table.

I leaned forward in the dim but serviceable bar light hanging over the center of the table, plucking the envelope from the top of the mess in the crate and bringing it to the light to see what I was doing as I opened it up. I unfolded the pages and smiled softly at the handwriting on them.

I went through a range of emotions as I read through the pages, and finally smiled. Setting them down, I looked up to Sauley grinning on his phone. The sound of a message being swept into the ether of the internet emanating from the device.

“What’d you just do?” I asked.

“Sent him a picture. Hope you don’t mind.”

I felt myself blush and thought of Mace looking at my photo and blushed even more. I wondered what he would think. I rolled my lips together and took a deep breath.

“I mean, I don’t know exactly what it is, but I do know it’s pottery of some kind. Maybe I shouldn’t have read the letter first.”

“Nah,” Sauley said. “I think you definitely were.”

I narrowed my eyes at him in suspicion and stood so I could see down into the crate. Reaching my hands in, I found multiple paper-wrapped hard pieces.

“Oh! There’s a lot in here!”

“Yeah, might want to wait until you’re home. Whenever you’re ready. I’ll carry it for you.”

“You’re too sweet,” I told him with a smile, and I think it was his turn to blush.

He walked me home and insisted on carrying the crate up to the apartment which honestly jangled my nerves. I was polite but firm at the bottom of the stairs.

“I’d really rather do it myself,” I said, and he acquiesced, inclining his head, and handing over the crate.

“You got it?” he asked.

“I think I’ve got it,” I said, and he let me have it.

“Here, let me hold this door.”

“Goodnight, Sauley. Thank you once again. You really don’t have to do this every night.”

“I won’t be able to,” he said. “But I will until Mace feels up to it himself. You have a good night.”

“Thank you. Um, I’ll have a letter for him next time. Is that okay?”

“Absolutely. Anything I should tell him?”

“Sorry I didn’t have a chance to write him one this time?” I winced slightly.

“It’s no problem. I’m sure he gets it.”

“You guys really are too sweet,” I said, stepping into the tiny square of broken tile in front of the stairs. Sauley smiled, winked, and shut the door tightly, waiting it seemed until I was up the stairs and inside my apartment.

I sighed and set the crate down, turning and flipping on lights so I could really see what was inside. I sat down on the couch and dragged it over. I lifted the biggest paper-wrapped package out from the center, undoing it and gasping at the rich emerald-green-and-black glazed teapot in my hands.

“This is so beautiful,” I murmured.

It had a lid and five matching teacups and saucers. I had never owned anything both so functional and so beautiful at the same time.

“Mace,” I whispered quietly. “This is just too much…”

I sighed, and I think my heart gave a twist in my chest, a deep pang of longing flowing out from it.

“God, I miss you,” I said with a tsk at how ridiculous I knew it had to sound, even though no one was listening.

I half thought about racing down the stairs. Of chasing Sauley halfway up the block back to where he was parked at the bar and begging him to take me wherever Mace was, but those sorts of grand romantic gestures were only done in the movies. Do them in real life and you were a pathetic, crazy, sad sack, which to be fair I felt like I was all of those things.

I did as the letter suggested. I took my new teapot and cups into the kitchen and washed them at my sink. I prepared the tea and set the kettle on the stove, but I didn’t turn it on yet.

First, I took a shower, then I found my comfiest house clothes that were fresh and clean from my excursion to the laundromat on my other day off the day before. I found my notebook and pens, went back to the kitchen, and made myself a brew.

Back to the couch, I opened the notebook and balanced it on my knee.

Dear Mace,

I love my new tea set. I can’t thank you enough for it, but you have to stop spoiling me!

I have to confess, I don’t play or watch anything on the console or TV, but I do listen to music. I missed having music in my life. It’s the one thing I missed the most after smashing my phone.

I hesitated. Did I want to get into this? It had the potential to ruin so many things. I chickened out and didn’t say anything more about why I had smashed my phone. The threatening messages, the phone calls… No, I didn’t get into any of that. I just wanted to enjoy things just a little longer.

I turned some music on and took my pen and book back up.

One of my favorite things that I used to do was fire spinning. Yes, I was one of those crazy people with the fireballs on chains, except they’re called poi balls. Not to be confused with the Hawaiian dish, poi. Manuk and I had a laugh over that one once. He was really confused when I said I missed spinning my poi. He thought I splattered fermented taro root paste everywhere. Anyway, the music makes me want to get back into that. I’d need to start with some training wheels, so to speak. I’m probably quite a bit