Chapter 14

John was still at the table, sipping his coffee, when she woke up. The strong summer sun was streaming inside. The canvas and the drawing lay discarded in a corner. As for him... did he just glance away? Jean narrowed her eyes suspiciously, wondering if he had been watching her the entire time.

"Who's the stalker now?" she mumbled, still groggy.

She pointed at him like an accusation, but as she did, her eyes fell on the cozy blanket that was covering her lower body. Where did that come from?

She instinctively pulled it tighter around her shoulders.

It felt warm.

"Still you, that's for sure!" John added with a smile, playfully avoiding her gaze. "From stalking to sleeping in a public space like a hobo. And even during your shift. Tsk tsk tsk. Unbelievable."

Jean frowned and pulled herself up from the couch. She quickly wiped the drool off the corner of her mouth. She checked her watch and realized she must have been asleep for at least a couple of hours. With a resigned sigh, she pushed herself upright and turned her attention back to John.

"Not a stalker, huh?" she wondered out loud. "Then why are you avoiding my eyes like someone who's feeling guilty about something?"

"I—I would never... you think you're quite the teaser, don't you? Well, at least you're an honest drunkard."

"Tipsy! Not drunk!" she snapped. "I still remember everything."

"You do?" asked John, his face smiling like he didn't believe it. "Then what was the last thing you said?"

"I said: I. Am. Free—and I meant every single bit of it," replied Jean with satisfaction. "And don't even dare complain about me sleeping in public places or during shifts or anything else. This, in your own words, is a 'social convention we don't need to deal with anymore'."

"Marvelous," replied John, clapping his hands in satisfaction. The Twins, who had been floating next to him the whole time, seemed confused about what was happening, but instinctively clapped as well.

"You're learning, Jean, I'm so proud of you."

***

A few hours later, Jean stepped out of the café. She pulled the keys from her pocket and locked the door. A few steps away, in the street, John waited. He watched her hand on the key and shook his head in disapproval.

"What?" Jean asked as soon as she saw his reaction.

"Why are you doing this?" John wondered with a grimace.

"Locking the door?" asked Jean. "What if someone wanted to steal..."

"Someone who?" asked John.

"Geez, I know, but still..."

John sighed.

"If they steal your coffee beans, you'll just steal some more from the store like you always do... it's not like these doors could stop someone like you to begin with."

"Hey, I'm not a burglar!"

"Oh you poor thing... just a normal person surviving the post-apocalypse."

Jean wished she could argue more, but no more argument came to mind. She lowered her head, her lips twisting from one side to the other.

"There's no way I can convince you, is there?" she added in a soft voice.

John sighed once more, crossing his arms.

"What about my beliefs in private property, human rights, capitalism..."

But John never answered. He just stood there, waiting for her to make the logical choice. Jean watched him with puppy eyes for a moment, but in the end she had no option but to admit defeat.

"Geez, fine!" she shouted.

And with a wide swing, she threw the key in the air, and they both watched it fly in the evening light before it disappeared into a storm drain. The moment passed, and she turned her head to John as if asking for acknowledgement.

"I. Am. Free!" she shouted, puffing out her chest.

"So proud of you," John added with a thumbs up. "Though unlocking the door first might have been a more sensible thing to do."

"Pfff, that's a problem for future me, let's go home."

***

The two of them headed home together, side by side. Jean couldn't help but notice that John seemed to step with his right foot at the same time as her left foot. Was he the one adjusting his pace to hers? Or was she adjusting to his? She couldn't tell.

They were alone. Earlier, the Twins called it a day and had retreated, as they always did, into their respective portals. A few blocks away, the Catlover was skillfully petting three cats at the same time.

She thought the evening sun was a beautiful, rare sight. The sky was a marvelous combination of fire orange and azure blue.

"Did we have such white clouds before?" John wondered, pointing upward.

For a second, Jean was surprised that he was thinking about the same thing. She followed his finger up, but instead of jumping from the tip of his finger to the clouds in the distance, her gaze simply lingered. When John's hands weren't covered in paint, his fingernails were so white and clean.

"No, I don't think we had," John continued, glancing at her. "Jean, why so silent?"

"It's beautiful..." she finally replied.

"My... hand?" John added.

"Hey, don't be such a dummy!" she replied jokingly.

She watched his eyes for a moment, in silence. Green, gentle eyes with so much depth. Staring back at her, full of questions.

"Jean?"

She stretched her hand as if she wanted to touch the world behind those lush green eyes, a land full of miracles that she'd never seen, but which she could feel, deep inside her heart. A place filled with mystery and honesty where she could be at peace. A place where her mind could rest and her heart could thrive.

John shifted his weight slightly, unsure what she was doing.

"You're creeping me out Jean..."

Jean blinked. And smiled.

"Am I now?" she said, more like she was asking herself. "Back when I was a bank manager, many people thought the same thing about me."

John scratched his head.

"Nah, not scary, a weirdo at best," he added playfully.

"A weirdo, huh?"

"Yes. It means," he said as he drew closer, faster than she expected. "It means I find you fascinating."