Free The Ferryman by Christopher Golden Page B

landing, she barely paused before she knocked on Janine’s door. David took a deep breath.
    He heard her footsteps as she crossed the apartment. The click of the lock quickened his heart, and he was startled by the realization of exactly how much trepidation he felt about this meeting.
    The door swung open. Janine wore a tight, white, ribbed cotton top and burgundy Levi’s. Her feet were bare, finger- and toenails painted a dark, bruised red. Her black hair framed her full, pale features in a way that had always reminded him of old-style Hollywood glamour. Even in jeans.
    But it was her eyes that caught him. Though they seemed brown most of the time, they had a way of shifting color with the light, or even with her mood. Gold and amber and copper, Janine’s eyes were all those colors, if you simply caught her at the right moment.
    When she opened the door, her gaze went to Annette first. Janine smiled tentatively. Then she looked at David, and her smile turned sad, wistful.To him, frozen in that moment, she seemed diminished somehow, fragile and tentative, as though she had learned a terrible secret.
    He supposed that she had.
    â€œHey,” she said.
    â€œHey.”
    â€œI’m really glad you came.”
    Then the melancholy seemed to burn right out of her, her smile sparkled, and he thought of the cloud that had passed over the sun just before they had come inside.
    Janine stepped out into the hall and embraced him forcefully. Her body felt full and right against him.Where Annette was petite and girlish, Janine was tall and full-bodied; not exactly voluptuous, but doubtless in that neighborhood.
    They fit together like the pieces of a puzzle. He recalled the way they had lain together at night before drifting to sleep, when she had nuzzled against him, his arm around her, her leg thrown over his. A puzzle, yes, and how well the pieces fit had seemed to hold some divine truth of the universe then, as if there really were such a thing as destiny.
    And maybe there is, he thought.
    He kissed her cheek. She smelled like cinnamon.
    I want to live with a Cinnamon Girl. I could be happy the rest of my life with my Cinnamon Girl.
    He smiled a bit sadly when he thought of that old song. David held Janine at arm’s length and felt something pass between them. All of his nervousness dissipated in that moment.
    â€œYou look great,” he said. “As usual.”
    â€œI’m a wreck,” she replied with nonchalance. “It must be the Zoloft the doctor’s got me on, but thanks for saying.”
    With that, she led them inside.
    The apartment brought back even more memories. He spotted the elegant glass sculpture he had given her after they had been together a few months. It was of a dancer in a beautiful gown. It still held a place atop the entertainment center in the living room.
    The spring breeze made the leaves of Janine’s jungle of plants quiver and sway. Something soft and jazzy played on the sound system in the room. Deliciously spicy odors filled the apartment.
    â€œWhat’s that smell?” Annette asked. “I thought we were just going to have sandwiches.”
    â€œI felt like cooking,” Janine said with a small shrug. “Kung Pao shrimp with cashews.”
    â€œYou didn’t have to do that,” David said quickly.
    â€œNo big deal. I haven’t cooked in a while. The mood struck me. I’m unstoppable when the mood strikes me.”
    â€œYes, we know,” Annette put in.
    Janine shot her a withering glance, then strode toward the kitchen. Annette glanced at David and rolled her eyes. She wore a tiny smirk.
    â€œIt’s just about ready,” Janine called from the kitchen.
    â€œHey,” David said softly.
    Annette frowned at his tone of voice.
    â€œMaybe she doesn’t need that right now,” he suggested.
    â€œIt’s exactly what she needs,” Annette replied. “To be with her friends, and to think about something