Chapter 14 #2
The reply arrived so quickly it might as well have been sitting in the chamber.
Grace
Enticing. But I’d rather see Christmas in Colorado.
Alix
And you’re sure?
Grace
Alix. I want to.
Four words. No cushioning. No smiley face. No just or maybe or but. Her vision prickled a little. She faked a cough. Phyllis was mercifully busy putting leftover lentils in the fridge.
She typed Thank you and erased it. She typed I miss you and erased it. She typed Bring warm clothes and low expectations and stared at it. Then she deleted it too. The right words felt both too big and too small.
She put the phone down and finished the lentils like a good patient.
She told Phyllis she was going to shower, then stood under water that ran a little too hot and watched the last of Miami on her skin flood down the drain.
When she came out in a giant T-shirt Phyllis had stolen from a yoga retreat in 1998 and a pair of boxers, the apartment felt more like itself.
The late afternoon light had gone gold against the buildings across the street in a way that made even the dust on the windows look intentional.
She picked up her phone and texted Helen Wolf to let her know she’d be home for Christmas, and that she was bringing a friend. Her mom hearted the message, and sent back a Yay! Email me your travel info when you get it!
Alix stared down at the text. She and her mom hadn’t been on good terms since…
the nineties? And now her mom was acting like Alix coming home for Christmas was the most exciting thing to happen since…
well, again, the nineties. She thought of texting Matt, her brother, to ask him if their parents had perhaps been exposed to mold poisoning.
Instead, she texted Grace.
Alix
What’s your coat situation?
The dots jumped.
Grace
I own coats.
Alix
Do they function or are they decorative?
Grace
Rude. Functional.
Alix
Okay, well, maybe check out your local REI because my town is a small postcard that forgot to update since 1993. There is a diner with a moose head and a liquor store that doubles as the post office.
Grace
Sounds cozy.
Alix
You are deranged.
Grace
I’m excited to see where you’re from.
Alix stared at that one a long time. The words reached in and circled something tender she’d kept buried.
It was one thing to be wanted in the warm, noisy chaos of someone else’s family.
It was another to ask someone to step into your own past, the place that had shaped your edges and then shoved you out of them.
Bellvue, Colorado. The place where people still called her Alexandra like an incantation, like a refusal to see the person she’d chosen to be.
The place where the air got so clean it hurt.
Where she could longboard the cracked streets with her breath coming out in smoke and feel as if she were the only moving thing for miles.
Alix
My mom is definitely not like Connie, so I apologize in advance.
Grace
I think you and I could have the best time anywhere, so stop worrying.
Alix tried not to fall in love with that line. She failed a little.
Phyllis padded back in with a mug of tea and looked Alix up and down. “You look like a person who has been returned to factory settings.”
“Is that a euphemism?” Alix joked.
Phyllis didn’t tease. She crossed the room and brushed a stray damp strand of hair from Alix’s forehead like she had a right to and said, “You look like someone who just remembered what it’s like to want.”
Alix chewed on her lip. “I’m worried it’s a little unrequited.”
“That’s the fun part, isn’t it?” Phyllis asked. “Figuring out if the other person feels the same.”
“Maybe if you’re a masochist,” Alix muttered.
Phyllis pretended not to hear and returned to puttering around the bungalow, leaving Alix alone with a window full of Silver Lake in the afternoon and a hand-shaped warmth where an old woman’s fingers had just been.
She sat on the arm of the couch and watched the street.
The neighbor’s orange cat did that weird sideways trot cats do when they’re offended by the air.
Someone tried to parallel park and gave up.
A girl in a bright red jacket rode a bike past with grocery bags dangling from the handlebars like flags.
The city hummed. In the reflection she could see herself, phone cradled against her chest like a talisman.
Grace’s dots popped up again, then her contact picture filled the screen. She was FaceTiming.
Alix’s heart climbed up into her throat and looked around for a seat. She could say no. She could suggest tomorrow. She could pretend to be busy. She could do all the small self-protective things that had kept her safe and lonely for years.
Instead, she answered. The call connected to Grace’s face at a flattering angle that somehow still managed to be candid. She looked like she was sitting in bed with a cup of tea and a smile that made Alix’s stomach do a trampoline flip.
“Hi,” Grace said, which was not a remarkable word, except Alix was pretty sure it was her favorite thing ever spoken.
“Hi,” Alix answered.
“Connie asked if you needed a care package of ‘vegan’ pastelitos for the plane next time,” Grace said, deadpan.
“Oh God,” Alix said, laughing. “Tell her I have to consult my lawyer.”
Grace put a hand to her heart. “I’ll write up the retainer contract.”
Alix pretended to study her. “You know, you look different without fluorescent airport lighting. Almost human.”
Grace smirked. “Big talk from someone who nursed a tummy ache for two days on vacation.”
Before Alix could reply, a familiar voice drifted from the hallway. “Is that the hot lawyer?”
“Phyllis,” Alix scolded, though it was only half-hearted. “Boundaries!”
Phyllis appeared anyway, robe cinched, reading glasses perched on the end of her nose. She leaned down into the frame like she was checking Alix’s screen for typos. “Hello, Gator. I’ve heard so much about you I feel like I should bill you for emotional labor.”
Grace laughed. “Hi, Phyllis. I’ve heard a lot about you too.”
“Only the bad parts, I hope.” Phyllis eyed Alix, then turned back to Grace. “You know, she still hasn’t cleaned the hair out of the drain from before she left, and I’m starting to think it’s some kind of nesting ritual.”
Alix groaned. “Can you not?”
“What? I’m setting expectations,” she said with mock innocence. “It’s important in relationships — friendly or otherwise.”
Grace looked like she was trying not to laugh. “Noted.”
Phyllis adjusted her glasses and studied Grace through the screen. “You have kind eyes. And the posture of someone who pays their taxes on time. Good. She needs more people like that in her life.”
Alix could feel her cheeks turning beet red. “I’m ending this call.”
“You will do no such thing,” Phyllis said sweetly. “Now, Grace, if she tries to feed you her tofu scramble, run. It’s less food and more… the idea of food.”
“I make a great tofu scramble,” Alix protested.
“She makes something,” Phyllis replied. “Jury’s still out on what.”
Grace grinned. “I’ll take my chances. Did she tell you about the chicharrones?”
“Oh yeah, though it’s not surprising. She’ll do anything for a pretty face,” Phyllis said, pushing her glasses up, and Alix could hear Grace choke-snorting in amusement.
“I like you already.” She gave a finger waggle wave to the screen.
“All right, that’s all I have to report right now. Good night, ladies.”
When she was gone, Alix shook her head and let out a long-suffering exhale. Grace was laughing so hard she nearly spilled her tea.
“Well, Phyllis is incredible,” Grace said between laughs.
“She’s something,” Alix said, smiling despite herself. “I’m a bit convinced she’s some trickster God sent to mess with my life.”
“Sounds like you are just living with your future self,” Grace teased.
Alix leaned back into the couch, heart still hammering from both embarrassment and joy. And for a moment, the distance between Miami and LA felt like nothing more than the width of a phone screen.
They talked for a few more minutes, their voices growing softer and shyer as they said good night.
If she was being honest, after Miami, her desire for Grace felt slightly different every time they spoke. Less like a fight and more like a hand on her back, steadying, urging.
For the first time in a long while, she did not feel alone. She felt excited, anticipatory.
She went to bed with her phone under her pillow like a teenager and woke once in the middle of the night sure she could feel Miami in the room, a humidity that had nothing to do with weather. She rolled over, reached out, and checked the screen.
Grace had sent one last message, time-stamped an hour past midnight in Miami.
Grace
For what it’s worth, I believe you really can rock a tofu scramble.
Alix smiled in the glow of her phone and typed back.
Alix
Your faith in me means everything.
There was no answer. Grace was probably sleeping. Alix tucked the phone under her pillow. Colorado rose in her mind like a map. The turnoffs and gas stations and the view from the ridge where she’d kissed a girl at thirteen and realized that oh, she was.
Grace wanted to come into that landscape. Into the mess and the weirdness and the parts of Alix that had taken so long to get out alive. She fell asleep smiling like an idiot.
In the morning, she woke to a text with a screenshot of a purchased flight.
Alix stared at the screen and felt the warm, ridiculous rise of possibility.
Alix
Afternoon arrival flight. Good choice. Should be warmer around that time of day, if only by a few degrees.
Grace
It was the only one with a first-class seat left.
Alix
Princess Gator. Oh, and I mean it about bringing a coat that is functional. Connie would have my head if I let her daughter freeze to death.
The reply dinged as the kettle in the kitchen began to growl. Life in Los Angeles continued. And also, somehow, something else had begun.