Chapter 9: Rule Two

It started to rain as we left Duncan's mother's house, and by the end of the block it was coming down sideways.

"Cab," I said, and raised my arm.

"Rule four," Lydia said, from under a newspaper she had found on a stoop. "Separate cabs."

"I know what rule four says," I said. "I wrote it."

"I'm only pointing out that the cabs are separate by nature," Lydia said. "There aren't any."

A fifth cab splashed to a halt in front of us, and I opened the door and looked at the single back seat.

"We could share," I said. "For efficiency. It's one cab."

"It's against the rules," Lydia said.

"It's a rule about two cabs, and there's only one," I said.

"Then we're in compliance," Lydia said, and climbed in.

My apartment is above a bakery in Charlestown, up two flights of stairs that creak on every third step.

The cab stopped there first.

"I'll go on from here," Lydia said.

"You're soaked," I said.

"I'm slightly damp," Lydia said.

"Your hair has a puddle in it," I said.

She touched it, found the puddle, and looked at her hand.

Then she got out of the cab.

Upstairs, I put a towel over her shoulders and looked for something dry.

I could not find a dry anything that would fit someone half a foot taller.

She wore my burgundy cardigan, with the sleeves ending at her forearms.

She stood in the middle of my kitchen, holding her wrists out like a scarecrow.

"I look ridiculous," Lydia said.

"You look warmer," I said.

"It's the same thing," Lydia said.

I heated the lentils left from Thursday and added black pepper I did not measure.

Lydia leaned on the counter and watched me.

"It's lentil soup," Lydia said.

Keep reading free with an account. Start He Called Us Rival Brides, We Went Home Together from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.