The Peculiar Miracles of Antoinette Martin: A Novel Read Online Free

lilac in his blue eyes and felt her cheeks flush. “Did you get the coffee grounds I left on your stoop?” she asked.
    “Thanks. Worked wonders for the azaleas.” He pointed at her computer, which now sported the blue screen of death, warning her that a data loss was in process. “I think you’ve got a problem.”
    “Shit!” She turned away and jabbed the power-down button then waited for the screen to black out. “What do you want, Will? The key’s for emergencies, not your daily drop in.” He flinched slightly, and she immediately wished she could take back her words.
    “Ah, cut to the quick. You’re cruel, Lily Martin. Did anyone ever tell you that?”
    She glanced at the picture on her desk then looked away, hoping he didn’t notice. She had more photos, but this was the only one she displayed. Under her bed, she had eight boxes of snapshots. On nights when missing Rose made her head ache, Lily stared at the pictures until she fell asleep, surrounded by pieces of the life she used to lead.
    She also had baby pictures of her niece, Antoinette. Sometimes Lily tried to imagine what the little girl might look like now, but she never could. As a baby, Antoinette had been different. Trying to picture her as a ten-year-old was impossible.
    Will caught her glance at the picture. He snatched it up.
    “Give it to me, Will.” She held her hand out, but he jumped back.
    “You were cute then, but I like you better now,” he said. “Even that little wrinkle you get in your forehead when you’re mad.”
    “I don’t have a wrinkle.” She raised a hand to her forehead and pressed.
    “Yes, you do. Right here.” He removed her hand and smoothed his fingers over her skin. “There. All gone now.”
    His fingers were soft, and she relaxed under his touch. He put the picture back on the desk. “Your sister doesn’t have anything on you.”
    That was a lie. Rose was the beautiful one.
    “Don’t get me wrong,” he said. “She’s pretty in an obvious way. But who’d want a blonde, blue-eyed Barbie doll when they could have a girl with green eyes and skin like porcelain? Don’t sell yourself short.”
    Lily looked up at Will. His eyes were the blue of the cornflowers that grew wild in the fields back home. No wonder he never had trouble finding women.
    “Not funny, Will. Why are you here?” She didn’t like being teased.
    He grinned, flashing his perfect teeth. “It’s an emergency. I’m out of coffee.”
    “There’s a Starbucks down the street,” she said as she turned around and shut her laptop.
    “But then I wouldn’t get to spend the day with you.” He rested his chin on her shoulder. “Well? Do you have any?”
    “It’s in the kitchen, where it usually is.”
    He kissed her cheek then walked into the kitchen, looking for the coffee she kept on the counter next to the coffeemaker.
    Will made her heart flutter and her palms sweat. She had often imagined his lips pressed against hers. Part of her wanted to leap head first into a relationship with him. But Lily never jumped into a pool without first testing the water. That part of her—the cautious side—told her to wait. Will was her best friend, and she didn’t want to risk losing him.
    She dropped her head to the desk and slowed her breaths, counting each one. The counting had started when she was a child. It grounded her when she was anxious: ceiling tiles, picture frames, flower petals. She counted them all.
    When she was younger, and hadn’t yet learned to count under her breath, kids at school christened her “the Count.” Every day on the way into school, Lily counted the dirty white tiles between the entrance and the library. Her classmates would strike mock Dracula poses, pretend cloaks across their faces, and they’d yell out random numbers.
    The teasing continued until one day when Lily was in fifth grade. After school ended for the day, some students encircled her while she waited for the bus. They shouted numbers at her,