Gathered Up. Annabeth Albert

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      “I’ve got plans,” I said curtly.

      “Bah. Another time.” She flitted away. She wasn’t a bad person by any means, but she did have the worst timing on earth. Evren glanced over at me and frowned. More than just irritation, there was disappointment in his expression. Fuck. He’d heard or seen too much. A heavy feeling descended on me, one that didn’t lift as the knitters started drifting away. Evren started straightening tables, which was not his job, the perfect excuse for me to leave the counter and go help him.

      “You don’t have to do that,” I said, moving some chairs out of the way. The ladies always ended up shoving most of the tables together and pulling chairs every which way.

      “No, it is fine,” he said as he straightened a table. “We should be courteous to the shop.”

      “Appreciated,” I said. He wasn’t looking at me, and I had a feeling I knew what the answer would be, but I had to ask anyway. “So, a beer?”

      “Thanks, but…no.” That pained expression was back. He glanced over at Audrey, who was cleaning the machines behind the bar.

      Hell. “I’m not…” I moved my hands restlessly. “I’m not involved with anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about. And the invitation was totally open as friends, too.”

      “You were involved, though?” Evren kept his voice low. “You and the female barista?”

      “We…collided a few months back.” That was the best description of it really. We’d been working late together, she’d been flirting heavily, and I’d been almost a year without touch from either gender. She was vivacious and knew exactly what she wanted—something I found hard to resist in either gender. But she’d caught me at an exceptionally weak moment, as I’d left my random hookup days far behind, or so I’d thought. “Nothing repeated. Nothing serious.”

      Evren’s frown deepened. “I do not usually do casual. Or bisexual.”

      “You don’t do bi?” I gaped at him, my jaw seriously hanging open. I could get not doing casual—more power to him. If my life had any room in it, which it most certainly did not, I wouldn’t do casual anymore either. But bi? What the fuck? Bi erasure was so five years ago. Ev needed to join this decade.

      “Let’s just say I have my reasons. And I don’t mean to be rude—”

      “But you are.” I shoved a chair in with more force than strictly necessary. “It was just a beer, man.”

      “No, it wasn’t.” Evren shook his head sadly. “Good night, Brady.”

      Fuck this. I finished the rest of the closing with a lot of stomping around and minimal talk with Audrey. I was being ridiculous. I really had no time for someone like Evren, especially not someone with bizarre prejudices, but damn if I wasn’t more than a little put out.

      Chapter 3

      My friends, you keep asking for an update on how I like being back in Portland, and if I miss Brooklyn. I do miss Brooklyn, and adjustments are…complicated, but my focus now is on my dear Hala Mira’s health. And to that end, I share with you the restorative silk and merino shawl I’ve designed for her for the drafty treatment rooms at the hospital. —Evren’s Yarnings

      Not surprisingly, Evren dropped his near-daily coffee habit, which shouldn’t have depressed me, but it did. It meant he had been coming around to see me, and my mouth filled with a sour tang that he was rejecting me for something over which I had no control. But after a few days of silence, Mira came over by herself.

      Even if the lack of Evren made me grind my teeth a bit, seeing her out and about with a good appetite for our soup and bread and a chai tea brightened my day. Because she seemed so small and frail, I took advantage of the fact that we were a little slow to carry her food to her table for her.

      “Thank you, dear. My Evren cooks such nice food for me, but I just had a craving for your split pea today.”

      “You should get whatever you crave,” I said. She shivered and pulled her lilac shawl closer around her. “You warm enough?”

      “Yes, dear. You’re as bad as Evren with your hovering. Get back to work.” She made a little shooing motion and I went back to the counter, but I kept an eye on her.

      Her shivering got worse, not better, and her hand trembled holding the soup spoon. She brushed the tails of her head scarf off her neck, and there was sweat along her brow line. Her color wasn’t looking so good either—the usual dusky olive skin tone that Evren shared had been replaced with a pale, sickly gray.

      “Mira, are you all right?” I hurried over to her.

      “I’m fine. Perhaps I should be getting back to the shop, though.” She started to rise, then wobbled and sat down fast. “Or maybe not.” She gave me a shaky smile.

      “Let me call Evren for you.”

      “I don’t think that’s…” she trailed off, rubbing her neck.

      “Mira. Give me your phone.” Being bossy didn’t come naturally to me, but I used the voice that always got the twins to comply with my orders.

      “I really don’t want to bother him,” she demurred as she dug out her phone from her knitted bag with trembling fingers. She tried to dial, but her fingers were shaking, so I took the phone.

      “He’s speed-dial number three,” she said in a weak voice.

      I hit the number without hesitation. Any issues I had with Evren were secondary to getting her help.

      “Mira?” Evren’s voice came on the line with the second ring.

      “Evren? This is Brady from the People’s Cup. Mira’s not feeling very well.” I spoke fast so that I could convey that the situation wasn’t dire but still get his attention.

      “Oh, thank you for calling, Brady. I’ll be right there.”

      I sat with Mira, and Evren popped in five minutes later, all out of breath. “Mira! I told you to wait for me to take your lunch break.” He crouched next to her chair.

      “Yes, aşkim. But you turned down People’s Cup and I so wanted their soup.”

      I looked away. I knew exactly why he’d wanted to avoid us, and it made my stomach bubble like the nasty kombucha health-food drink we kept on tap. “Well, I’ll let you take it from here. Let me know if I can help.” I pushed up from the table.

      Evren grabbed my sleeve as I rose. “Thank you for calling me, Brady. Very much.” His voice was more uncertain than I’d heard it, and a faint pink blush stained his cheeks.

      “Any time,” I said and meant it. I should have taken pleasure in his discomfort, but I couldn’t. I shared his concern over Mira and watched as he shepherded her out of the store, letting her lean heavily on his arm.

      * * * *

      About an hour later, as I was finishing up my shift, a customer came to the counter and held out of a bundle of knitted fabric. “I found this under one of the tables,” she said.

      Mira’s СКАЧАТЬ