Favorite Shop

The Night She Left

The candle had burned down to a stub. Its wick leaned crookedly into a pool of melted wax, giving off an occasional soft crackle.

ELIE sat on the edge of the bed, folded the last piece of clothing, and tucked it into the open canvas bag. A loose thread hung from the opening of the bag. She rolled it between her fingertips, pushed it back into the seam, then pulled the drawstring tight and tied a firm knot.

She was not taking much with her.

A few changes of clothes, some personal belongings, and several hard-edged objects wrapped carefully in soft cloth and packed at the very bottom.

The room was so quiet that the flicker of the candle seemed loud. Even her breathing was barely there.

Outside, wind moved through the trees in the yard, setting the leaves whispering. Beyond the fields, faint light still glowed behind one or two distant windows, while the rest of the houses had already sunk into darkness. The insects’ intermittent song drifted in from the ridges between the fields, so far away it might have come from another world.

ELIE remained seated for a while.

She lifted her head and let her gaze travel slowly over the old table and chairs, the plank bed, and the window. At last, it settled on the candle that was nearly gone.

She took nothing else.

ELIE slung the canvas bag over her shoulder, steadied the candlestick, and bent to blow out the flame.

Darkness filled the room in an instant.

The door opened with a quiet creak. The night wind met her with the cool scent of grass, leaves, and dew, stirring the loose strands of hair across her forehead.

She stepped over the threshold, turned to close the door, then pressed it once more to make sure the latch had caught.

Grass brushed against the hem of her clothes, leaving a trace of cool dampness behind. Moonlight lay across the path outside the house, catching on pale stones scattered through the dirt. She followed the edge of the fields without looking back.

Her footsteps faded into the distance.

Before long, even the bag on her shoulder had disappeared into the night.

The insects kept singing in the fields.

As if no one had ever left at all.

* * *

ELIE opened her eyes.

The room was dim.

The curtains had not been drawn all the way. A thin blade of moonlight slipped through the gap and stretched across the bare wooden floor, where she had not yet laid down a rug. Somewhere in the distance, waves rolled against the shore, one after another, slow and heavy.

She stayed where she was.

The night wind, the fields, and the insects from moments ago still seemed to linger in her ears, soft and distant now. Her fingertips almost remembered the rough scrape of the canvas bag. The dream felt so close that if she shut her eyes again, she might find herself back on that moonlit road. For a few seconds, she could still feel the strap pressing against her shoulder.

Then the sound of the sea gradually reclaimed the room.

ELIE rubbed her eyes and slowly sat up.

The blanket slipped from her shoulders. She looked toward the window and realized that night had already fallen completely.

“I slept that long...?”

As if on cue, her stomach gave a loud and thoroughly unhelpful growl.

ELIE looked down and rested a hand over it.

“All right. Message received.”

Two unopened cardboard boxes still sat beside the bed. Only one door had been attached to the wardrobe, and an unfinished wooden sign leaned facedown against the wall, its carved letters still waiting to be painted. Yesterday, she had unpacked only the clothes she used most often. Everything else still looked exactly as it had when she moved in.

Everything here was new.

The house was new. The island was new. Even waking to the sound of the ocean every day was something she had not quite grown used to.

ELIE pushed back the covers and stepped onto the cool wooden floor with bare feet. She brushed her hair back, opened the bedroom door, and headed down the wooden stairs. The boards gave a faint creak beneath each step. The air carried a light scent of paint and turpentine.

Downstairs, only the white ceramic lamp above the worktable remained lit.

Several unfinished sets of press-on nails rested beneath it. Some tips had only their base colors; others remained fixed to practice stands, waiting for tomorrow. Fine brushes, bottles of gel polish, and a half-open sketchbook lay nearby, and a pale smear of paint still clung between ELIE’s fingers. The shelves along the wall were not even half full. The remaining packaging boxes sat stacked neatly on the floor. On the computer screen, her newly opened storefront was still up: a few product photos had been uploaded, while several sections remained blank.

The lowest drawer of the worktable stood slightly open. A worn edge of cold metal showed through the gap. It looked a little like the tag on Lucky’s collar, though this piece was heavier and much thicker.

Favorite Shop had only just opened.

There were not many orders yet, so ELIE spent her days making new sets, photographing them, and adding them to the website one by one. The shop was still finding its footing. So was she.

A large black dog lay on the dog bed beside the worktable. The moment he heard her footsteps, Lucky raised his head. His tail had already slipped over the edge of the bed and thumped twice against the floor.

“I wasn’t waiting for you the whole time,” he said.

“Mm-hmm.” ELIE glanced at the tail that was still wagging. “I believe you.”

Lucky’s tail froze for half a second, then wagged even faster.

On the little sofa by the window, Luna slowly opened her eyes. The calico cat lifted her head and studied ELIE for a moment, her voice calm enough to make the accusation sound like a simple fact.

“You missed dinner.”

“So neither of you ate?”

“Lucky said we should wait.”

Lucky turned toward her.

“You agreed.”

“I was worried you would empty the entire kitchen if I left you alone.”

Luna jumped down from the sofa without making a sound. Her tail rose high behind her, the tip curling slightly toward ELIE as if to lead the way.

ELIE did not call her out. She simply bent down and stroked the top of her head.

“Come on. Let’s have dinner.”

Lucky was already on his feet, one paw tapping lightly against the floor.

“What are we having?”

“Salad for me, grilled fish for Luna, and chicken for you.”

“Two pieces?”

“One.”

Lucky went silent for two full seconds.

“One very large piece,” ELIE added.

His ears perked right back up.

The kitchen cabinets were not fully organized either.

A few porcelain bowls sat stacked at one end of the island. Spices filled small unlabeled glass jars beside the stove, while a wicker basket of vegetables rested beneath the window. Two unopened storage racks leaned beside the sink, and the door to the pantry stood slightly ajar. When ELIE opened the refrigerator, Lucky immediately sat up straight behind her, as though awaiting inspection. Luna hopped onto the tall stool beside the island, chose a spot where she would not be in the way, and watched in silence.

ELIE put the deboned chicken into the oven first, then prepared the fish. She added none of the seasonings meant for humans to Lucky’s or Luna’s food, and removed every last fish bone with care. She had done this many times before; her hands moved with the ease of years of practice. While the food cooked, she washed some lettuce, cherry tomatoes, and a cucumber, chopped them into a wooden bowl, and mixed in a few herbs she had gathered by the roadside that afternoon.

Lucky stared at the oven door without blinking.

“You are allowed to blink,” Luna said.

“I did blink.”

“Once three minutes ago does not count.”

Lucky gave one slow, deliberate blink, solemn as a dog completing an important ceremony.

Luna looked at ELIE with open disapproval.

“I take it back.”

ELIE fought down a laugh and poured the dressing over her salad.

Before long, the smell of grilled fish and chicken drifted from the oven, warm and savory enough to fill half the house. Lucky sat even straighter, his chest puffing out beneath the white patch.

ELIE plated all three dinners, then set out water and utensils.

“Where do you want to eat tonight?”

Lucky’s attention was still firmly attached to the chicken. Clearly, anywhere would do.

Luna considered the question, then looked out at the night sky.

“The roof,” she said. “There aren’t any clouds tonight. We can see what the stars and moon look like from this island.”

ELIE glanced up at the skylight as well.

“All right. To the roof, then.”