9. Tatum
9
TATUM
A FEW YEARS LATER…
S taring at my packed bag on the edge of the bed, I gnaw on my lower lip and press call.
It rings twice before a familiar voice answers, bringing a smile to my face.
“Hello?”
“Rore!” I keep my voice especially syrupy sweet in hopes of buttering her up a bit. “I miss you! How are you?”
“I’m good. How’re the travels?”
Picking at the edge of the threadbare comforter, I lie, “Good.”
“You sure about that?”
My nose wrinkles. “Okay, I guess I could be a little better.”
“Uh-oh. What happened?”
“Nothing?”
“Tate…”
I bite the edge of my thumb and look up at the popcorn ceiling. I’ve been here for what, two? Three weeks? Damn, has it been a month already? Crazy how time moves differently when you’re traveling.
“Tate?” Rory prods. “You there?”
“Yeah, I’m here.” I close my eyes in an attempt to focus. “I was, uh, I was wondering if I could come out and see you?”
“See me, huh? What? Have you run out of money again on all your travels?”
“Ouch.” I peek out the small window, so I can soak up my last sunrise in Cabo. “And no. Technically, I have a hundred dollars to my name, but thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“I knew it!” Rory laughs.
“You know, I could always resort to picking up random dudes and bed hopping for the foreseeable future instead of visiting.”
“Yeah, why not bring home a few STDs with your souvenirs?” she teases.
Refusing to let her shame me about my sex life, I toss back, “Hey, STDs, souvenirs, and a solid orgasm or two, since we both know?—”
“Faking it is for pussies,” she finishes for me. “Yes, I’m aware of your standards.”
“Well, at least you’ve learned something from me.”
“Uh-huh. I’ve learned your taste in men is deplorable.”
With a smirk, I bring my knees to my chest on the bed and rest my back against the wall. “Bad boys do it better. What can I say?”
“Until they ask for more than one night.”
My nose wrinkles. “Blah. I know. It’s annoying. And they say we’re the needy sex. But at least I’m having fun. How’s that v-card treating you, anyway?”
“You’re super funny,” she grumbles.
“Thanks, I get it from my mom.”
She snorts. “You know, you could always give one of your one-night stands a real chance.”
“And cheat on my best friend?” I quip. “You know you’re the only one for me.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know you love me. It’s too bad we’re straight, am I right?”
“Yes,” I groan, resting my forehead against my bent knees. “Life would be so much easier if we were attracted to women.”
“Amen,” she agrees. “So, does this mean you’re finally giving in and coming to stay long-term, or is this only another visit until you earn enough money to leave me again ? ”
“Depends. Is your brother going to crash our party again ?” I counter.
It was a few months ago. I was staying at Rory’s apartment when Maverick showed up with Lia in tow. Talk about an oh-shit moment. I barely made it through the pleasantries before packing a bag and buying the first bus ticket I could find to get me out of there. Even if my sister hadn’t tagged along with Mav, I still would’ve left, though. It’s nothing personal. But looking at someone who shares the face of a person who died has a way of messing with your head, you know? Okay, maybe it is a little personal. Maverick is Archer’s identical twin. They looked so much alike, only a handful of people could tell them apart. It’s one of Lia’s favorite things to brag about. That she could always tell them apart.
I could, too, you know.
And even if they don’t look like exact replicas of each other, the in your face—pun intended—reminder isn’t exactly an easy pill to swallow.
The history between Archer, Mav, and Ophelia is murky at best. Don’t get me wrong. Mav is a good guy despite stabbing his brother in the back before taking his heart. Literally. Mav had HCM—a rare heart disease—but he kept the diagnosis to himself, wreaking all kinds of havoc in my sister’s life. After Mav broke up with Ophelia, Archer rode in on his white horse, and she started dating him. Classy of her, I know. When I caught my older sister hooking up with Mav behind Archer’s back, she swore she’d broken up with Arch first, but that didn’t make it any better. She hurt the one person in this world who didn’t deserve it, and what did Archer do? He forgave them, proving just how perfect he is. Was. Soon after, Archer passed away in a car accident. He was an organ donor, and Mav got his heart, shattering mine in the process.
Our families call it a miracle. Maybe it is, but I can’t help but hold a grudge against fate for fucking him over like that. Archer was…he was as close to perfect as a person can be. Thoughtful. Caring. Kind. Charismatic. Genuine. He was amazing.
And even though Mav has spent years trying to be the best person he can be in hopes of…I don’t know? Making things right with the world? It still doesn’t ease the ache. The reminder that he’s here when Archer isn’t. That without Archer, he wouldn’t be here at all. And Archer would.
But even then, even if fate dealt a different hand, Archer still wouldn’t be mine. He’d be Ophelia’s, or at the very least still obsessed with her. And if that isn’t a punch to the boob, I don’t know what is.
“Pretty sure Mav and Ophelia wouldn’t fit in my new place even if they wanted to visit,” Rory continues. “They’re in Uganda for the next three months.”
Her voice cuts through my thoughts. I shift my cell to my other ear, attempting to focus on our conversation instead of getting lost in the past. In the plaguing what ifs that never seem to rest despite the years they’ve haunted me. “That’s, uh, good for them,” I answer.
“Thought you’d like that.” Rory chuckles. “But like I said, there won’t be any surprise pop-ins. Which means, you should think about staying a while this time. As long as you’re good with close quarters.”
The last time we spoke, Rory mentioned she might be moving again, though I didn’t know she actually went through with it. “Sick of the neighbors above, huh?”
“You have no idea,” she mutters. “Besides, this place might be tiny, but it’s only a mile from the beach, a five-minute walk from my classes, and the people beneath me own the place and are so freaking cute. They always leave the yummiest treats by my door. Seriously, you’ll love them.”
“I’m sure I will,” I mutter. “Speaking of loving people and vice versa…”
“Yes?” She drags out the word.
Ignoring the skepticism in her voice, I announce, “After looking up flights, I may or may not have found a potential job in Harden Heights and put you on another resume.”
“Tatum,” she groans. “Every time you do that, I have to lie.”
I gasp. “Excuse me! Who says you need to lie?”
“So, you’d like me to tell your potential employers how you have a penchant for sleeping in, missing shifts, and quitting at the drop of a hat anytime the going gets rough?”
My jaw drops. I’m surprised at how quick she had that locked and loaded. “Ouch.”
“I’m just saying…”
“That I have a penchant for sleeping in, missing shifts, and quitting at the drop of a hat anytime the going gets rough?” I finish for her.
She doesn’t deny it, and honestly, I’m impressed. Before I took her under my wing, she didn’t have a backbone. Now, I can barely get anything past her.
Shoving my pride aside, I beg, “I swear I’ll be good this time. The perfect employee, I promise.”
“Uh-huh. Sure.”
“Rore, I’m serious!”
“And what kind of job is it?” she asks.
“A cleaning service,” I offer. “It’s actually perfect for me. I can make my own schedule, the mansions are empty almost a hundred percent of the time so I don’t have to see or talk to anyone and potentially piss them off, and I can listen to audiobooks or music while I clean. Oh, and did I mention the money is not only decent, but I can pick up as many houses as I want, which means I won’t spiral. See? It’s a win-win-win.”
“Sure it is,” she mumbles.
“Come on, Rore. I gotta find something to pass the time while you’re at school.”
“Promise me you won’t get fired,” she grumbles.
“Promise.”
“And you’ll put in a two weeks’ notice like a thoughtful human being before you pick up and leave again.”
I lift my hand despite Rory not being able to see me and reply, “Scout’s honor.”
She sighs. “When did you give them my name?”
“Right before I called,” I quip. “And after I bought my plane ticket. Any chance you can pick me up at the airport in a few hours?”
“If I say no, do you have the money for an Uber?”
“I think we both know the answer to that.”
Another sigh echoes through the speaker, and I know I’ve won her over.
“You owe me,” she mutters.
“Add another tally to the count,” I tease. “I’ll text you the details. You’re the best!”
I can hear the smile in her voice as she replies, “I know.”
And she really is.
When Rory mentioned she downsized, she wasn’t kidding. The place is tiny. There isn’t a couch. Or an actual bedroom. It’s a studio apartment with barely enough room for one person, let alone two. Add in Rory’s shadow, her demon German Shepherd, Hades, and the apartment is basically a can of sardines. Even so, Rory went the full nine yards in preparation for my visit. Twin beds are pressed against the walls on opposite sides of the room, and a television hangs on the end furthest from the front. It’s framed by a door leading to the bathroom, and a small, half-empty closet I have no doubt should be—and would be—full if I hadn’t called Rory, asking for a place to stay. Her clothes are lined up from pink to blue, creating a tiny rainbow with black and white fabric on both sides. Just like always. She hides it well. Most of the time, anyway. Her Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Most people throw the diagnosis around like confetti. Writing off their preference for cleanliness as a silly quirk, when OCD is so much more. It’s crippling. Consuming. And hits in the most random ways at the most random times.
“And here it is,” Rory announces, squatting down to undo the leash from Hades’ collar.
His tail whips my thigh, and I yelp in surprise as he dashes toward Rory’s bed, jumping onto the fluffy blue blanket covering the bottom half of the mattress.
“Sorry,” Rory says. “We’re still working on Hades’ manners.”
“He’s four,” I remind her. “Pretty sure that ship has sailed.”
“Hey, give him a little more credit!”
“You’re right. At least he didn’t try to bite my face off when I climbed into your car at the airport,” I tease.
She sticks her tongue out at me but doesn’t bother arguing. Rory’s family has owned German Shepherds ever since her dad gifted her mom a puppy when they were dating. The rest is history. And even though I’ve always been one of their favorite people, Hades doesn’t like anyone—and I mean anyone —but Rory. Now, it doesn’t mean he attacks everyone who comes near her, despite my smartassery. Rory’s family spent thousands of dollars on training when her OCD became too much after moving away. But he has no problem making his feelings about you very clear, and I’ve yet to meet anyone other than Rory that he’s willing to warm up to. As Rory hangs up Hades’ leash on the hook next to the front door, I take in the olive green cabinets and wood block countertops that separate the kitchen from the rest of the living space. Yup. This place is absolutely adorable. From the blue and white striped linens on the beds to the fluffy white rug covering the maple colored floors.
Gorgeous.
Facing me, Rory asks, “So, what do you think?”
“I think you’re too good to me. Tell me you at least asked for help from…someone to swap whatever bed you had in here to two twins.”
She grimaces. “Am I that transparent?”
“Yes. Yes, you are.” Moving closer, I toss my arms around her shoulders and pull her into a hug. “And you’re also the best. Thank you for putting up with me. I promise to start chipping in for rent as soon as I get my first paycheck.”
She returns my hug, then lets me go. “I’ll always put up with you. And don’t worry about rent. I got it.”
“Rory…”
“Seriously. Don’t stress.”
“I don’t deserve you,” I reply with a smile.
She grins back at me. “I know.”
“So what’s the nightlife like around here nowadays?” I ask.
“Depends on the time of year. There’s a new place called The Pelican, though. I’ve been a few times. I think you’ll like it, but we’ll have to go tomorrow or something.”
“Why not tonight?” I ask.
“School, then work.”
I groan. “Blah, you’re so boring.”
“I believe the term you’re searching for is responsible.”
I cough into my fist, “Boring.”
“Says the girl who would be homeless and jobless without me.” She cups the back of her ear and tilts her head. “It’s fine. I’ll wait.”
I roll my eyes. “Okay, I take it back. You’re not boring. You’re amazing and responsible and I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Her mouth lifts, and she drops her hand to her side. “Much better.”
“Smartass,” I laugh. “But seriously. Thank you for letting me stay and for being willing to show me the bird place, even if it’s not tonight.”
“The Pelican,” she sings.
“The bird place,” I sing back. I rock back on my heels, scanning the apartment one more time. Yup. I’m going to like it here. “You mind if I use the shower while you’re gone?”
“Have at it. Just be sure to?—”
“Wash all the soap residue from the shampoo and conditioner before setting them back on the shelf and close the lid.” I tap my temple. “You forget I know you, too.”
Lips pursed, she gives Hades a scratch behind his ears. “Play nice, Hades. I know Tatum seems like she needs a bite in the ass every now and then, but let’s give someone else that job, okay?” He licks her palm in response then rests his head on his blanket. Satisfied, Rory turns on her heel and snags her keys from the counter. “And on that note, I’ll be back by nine.”
“Love you,” I call.
“Love you!”