23. Tee
Tee
Three days later
“ W hat has your panties in such a bunch? Is it to do with whatever made you cancel Saturday dinner?” Nonna inquires, peering over the skein of yarn as I help her wind it into a ball.
“He doesn’t deserve your pasta.”
“So, it’s a man problem.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Yes, it is.” Nonna smiles, and that smile’s so knowing, so kind, so loving that I glance away.
There’s a welter of wisdom and understanding in that smile.
Someone who’s been there, done that, and not bought the T-shirt, but the whole fucking store. And I don’t want to be commiserated with.
I want to wallow.
“I’m impressed that he managed to annoy you so swiftly,” she admits.
“Impressed?” I almost drop the ball of yarn. “Nonna! You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“I’m always on your side, piccola , but that doesn’t mean I can’t read a situation. You like him. The humming only confirms it. He inspires you to make music.”
“I don’t like him. He’s a jerk.”
“You liked him plenty. Before he... What did he do?”
Gnawing on my lip, I suck on my cheeks, nibble, anything to stop the words from flowing. But she’s my earliest confidante. Even before Zee. I used to tell her everything?—
“You remember I told you about t-the ‘Dear John’ letter I received from my soldier?” The habit is too hard to break. “The bastard who dumped me via mail?”
“Yes.” Her brow furrows in confusion. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Cody wrote it!”
“He wrote it?” she repeats, bewildered. “How could he... Unless, he was the pilot?” When I nod, her eyes widen. “My, that’s serendipitous, isn’t it?”
“Serendipitous?” I shriek. “More like a calamity .”
“Hardly. You live in the same house, piccola . He’s handsome. He has a good job despite the fact he never needs to work. He’s a good man. Decent. Worthy of you.”
I gape at her for long enough that she nudges my chin to close my mouth. That’s when I sputter: “If he’s so good, then why the hell did he dump me via a letter?”
“You were dating? One of those LBDs?”
I refuse to laugh when I’m so annoyed. “LDRs, Nonna. A LBD is a little black dress.”
She clicks her fingers. “So many abbreviations, not enough time.”
“I get it. But no. We weren’t dating. Not technically. The potential… I know we had it. I waited… We were friends, but... God, Nonna, I wrote to him for years. I told him stuff I haven’t shared with you or Zee! He was a confidant and I’d fallen for him. Maybe he...”
No, he fell for me too.
I might think he’s a 24-carat asshole, but he wouldn’t have...
The truck .
God, I hate him for making me dumb.
“I don’t understand, Nonna. I don’t know why he’d do that.”
Not when he must have wanted me too.
“Have you asked him?”
“I don’t want to look at him, never mind talk to him.”
She clucks her tongue. “His words could heal this pain you’re in.”
“I want to hurt.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“It isn’t.” I sniff. “I’m entitled to feel this way.”
“Did I say you weren’t? I’m saying it’s ridiculous to suffer when the cure is within reach. People make mistakes, piccola , and nothing is ever as cut and dry as we’d like it to be. He seemed to be a good man, and I remember him as a boy. He was always polite when he worked at The General Store.”
God, I forgot about that—the whole town was abuzz when a Korhonen began working in a menial position for one of the local stores.
But... that’s him, isn’t it?
You’d never know he had a padded bank account—special edition trucks aside.
“Was the disastrous date you went on... with him?”
“No,” I grumble.
I should never have told her about that date, but it’s a habit.
Needing to change the subject, I dip into my pocket and hold out a stone for her. She lifts it to her eye.
“Smoky tourmaline,” I inform her. “For your joints. It arrived today.”
“What’s the other one?”
“Huh?”
“I saw you toying with it earlier. The blue one.”
My throat bobs.
Blue chalcedony.
The tear-shaped crystal had appeared in front of my door this morning.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“That means it does. What is it?”
“Blue chalcedony.”
She sighs then snags a hold of my fingers and knots her gnarled ones with mine. “Why hurt when he could alleviate your pain, amore mia ? Your pretty crystals won’t fix this type of pain. Even if he gives them to you as an apology. That’s what blue chalcedony promotes, no?”
“I want to punish him.” The words are raw. Troubled.
“Then spank him!”
“I’m not spanking him! That might be your kink, but it isn’t mine.”
“Even if he deserves it?”
I try to imagine that scenario and burst out laughing. Then, grouchily, I grumble, “Don’t make me laugh.”
“Why not?” She winks. “You’re much prettier with happiness in your eyes, Christy mia .” When I tut, she squeezes my fingers. “What do you need from him?”
“Time.”
“Bah! Time is overrated. ‘Time heals all wounds.’ No, it lessens the pain, doesn’t make a scab, doesn’t prevent a scar. It provides distance. But distance isn’t what you need. You’ve done the distance thing. You had no closure. He wrote you a letter and severed ties. You had no means of screaming at him before, but now you do.”
“I’m not like you, Nonna.”
“Ha! You’re my spitting image. You think I didn’t throw pots and pans at your Nonno ?”
“You did?” I gasp. “Didn’t you hurt him?”
She shrugs. “He deserved it.”
“That’s called domestic abuse nowadays.”
“Then, it was called female hysteria. He soon learned not to infuriate me by talking to that puttana neighbor of ours who always made him cupcakes on his birthday.”
The flash in her eyes has me frowning. “You were jealous?”
“ Si , and like a good husband, he should have thrown them away. Accepted them politely then tossed them in the trash as soon as she was out of sight.” She pffts. “It took him three years to see sense, but he learned eventually.”
I gust out my cheeks. “I guess Anthony gets it from nonno , huh? Too slow for words.”
“Perhaps. Though he’s a better father.” Her gaze turns knowing. “Why don’t you want to visit with your nieces, hmm?”
“I don’t like children.”
“You think I do?”
“You’re Italian.”
“And?”
“Wait, you don’t?”
“Dirty little things,” she dismisses. “But when they’re your blood... it’s different.” She wags her finger at me. “Bring him tomorrow. You can see the girls and?—”
“No. I’m not ready.” I don’t care if I’m being childish, but I get to my feet. “I’m going, Nonna. Zee’s got an interview scheduled in ninety minutes.”
She eyes me over her glasses, her exasperation plain. “What interview?”
“You remember I told you about the family’s PR campaign?”
“Oh, is she still dreading that?”
“She is, but whatever Colt’s wunderdick did has her agreeing to it.”
“I miss wunderdicks.”
“Mr. Ravenly Sr. doesn’t have one?”
“Maybe forty years ago.” She clicks her fingers. “If she doesn’t want to do it, she shouldn’t. Their father made the mess?—”
“That’s not their fault either. Not everyone has a family like mine.” I shoot her a smile. “Mine is the best. Even Anthony.”
Her cackle makes my heart happy. “Tell her from me that I can’t wait to watch her on the TV.”
“That’ll just make her nervous. You know she likes to impress you.”
That has her beaming. “Exactly. She’ll be more nervous about that than the interview.”
I wag a finger at her. “I clearly inherited my deviousness from you.”
“Of course! Anyway, shoo. Thank you for the crystal, piccola .”
Leaning over to press a kiss on her cheek, I leave the yarn on the table. “You’re welcome.”
She grabs me in a surprisingly fierce hold and, in my ear, whispers, “Bottling up your feelings serves no purpose. Let them loose. Let him see your rage. He’ll respect you for it.”
“Nonna, I stole his truck and abandoned him at a lake. I don’t think I could do anymore without earning an arrest warrant.”
A shocked laugh escapes her. “You did that?”
“Yes.” My nose wrinkles at the bridge.
She pats my cheek. “Good girl.”
My nose scrunches harder, but I give her another kiss. “It wouldn’t have been so good if you’d had to bail me out.”
“I don’t know. I’d have paid to see your father’s reaction to that call. Sometimes, it’s useful to have the police in your pocket.”
Is that where Cody is?
To be fair, I haven’t seen much of him since that morning...
Guilt? Or regret?
“Don’t forget the torroncini ,” she tells me.
I stop at the kitchen and pull out some of the nougat Mom made for the dinner that never happened—my turn to feel guilt.
Annoyed, I snack on it as I leave the house.
Colt let me use one of the ranch trucks, and I have to launch my ass inside the damn thing because these pickups are constructed for giants.
Huffing, I settle behind the wheel, checking again that the seat is as far forward as possible, then carefully reverse out of the parking space where my dad’s car usually sits when he’s home.
As I do, the neighbor, Marvin, peers out of a crack in the drapes.
Because he’s a dick, I give him a one-finger salute, smirking when he glowers at me and retreats.
I make it back to the ranch in good time. Zee and Colt’s original interview was pushed to today, so she’s in meltdown mode when I reach her office.
Knowing how stressed she is, it’s a habit to check her blood sugar on her tracking app.
With a gimlet eye, I find myself surprised that her levels aren’t all out of whack, but when I enter the room, the first thing I do is locate her trail mix stash and throw it at her.
“Tee!” she shrieks when it bounces off the back of her head.
I stick out my tongue. “Why aren’t you changed yet? The interview is in less than an hour.”
“Where were you?!”
“With Nonna. She called me over. Wanted to know why I’d canceled Saturday.”
“I didn’t know if you’d make it back in time.” She spins in her chair. “Why did you cancel on Saturday?”
Ignoring her second question, I retort, “And leave you to the wolves? Nah. Nonna says she’s looking forward to seeing you on the TV.”
Panic has her jerking upright. “She’s going to watch?”
“Of course. She considers you one of her little rabbits.”
That triggers a toneless wail.
“Right, we need to get you ready, seeing as you still aren’t dressed.” I squint at her face, mumbling, “You haven’t even put makeup on!”
“Excuse me for needing to work,” she snips back. “Rachel had an emergency.”
I still. “One of the Sinners was arrested?”
“Giulia was.”
Giulia’s the Old Lady of the VP.
“What the hell happened?”
“This woman at daycare said that she didn’t want her children being raised with Sinner scum.”
“No fucking way. Is she dead?”
“No, but her front tires are definitely blown and she has a pair of busted headlights.”
“Go, Giulia.” I lift a hand for her to high-five it, but she glowers at me.
“You would say that! You don’t have to get her out of jail tonight.”
“I thought they had the sheriff on the payroll.”
She pinches the bridge of her nose. “I told you they don’t.”
“Yeah, yeah. The question still remains…”
“You didn’t ask a question. Anyway, some idiot noob on the force filed her charges. Why am I doing this interview again?”
“So your family doesn’t lose billions on the stock market.”
“Not helpful, Tee.”
I snicker. “To be fair, those billions do employ a shit ton of people. Imagine if the company went down... Would Pigeon Creek still exist?”
She releases a whoosh of air as she clicks her fingers. “ That’s why I’m doing it. Because pettiness isn’t enough.”
“It’s scary how fragile a business infrastructure is, isn’t it?” I muse as I rest my hands on her shoulders and tug her hair into a braid—our agreed upon style. Mostly because I rock at them and very little else and she didn’t want to hire someone to do her hair and makeup.
Snagging her brush from the desk, I get to work as she answers, “Life is a fragile ecosystem. And murder has a habit of fucking with that.” She purses her lips. “What have you done to Cody, by the way?”
I still. “Why do you ask?”
“Colt wanted me to talk to you about him. Seems as if he’s been staying at the detachment and not coming home.”
Huh.
And here I was, sneaking around the damn house in case I saw him. That one time in the den where he looked troubled in his sleep was enough.
“If he was going to do that, he could have told me,” I grumble. “I almost fell down the stairs last night when I was in stealth mode.”
“So, you are avoiding him?”
“Yes.”
Her brow furrows. “Why?”
My jaw works. “I’ll tell you after the interview.”
“No, you won’t. What did he do? Was he mean to you?”
I sniff. “No.”
At least, not the other day.
A flush tinges my cheeks hot pink—I don’t have to glance in the mirror to know that. I can feel the heat. I’d warm up the entire house from them alone.
The fact that I don’t want to tell Zee prods me into sharing the truth. I always keep her updated on this stuff. Holding these feelings in will serve no purpose, even if the last thing I want to do is add to her stress.
“I’ll tell you if you eat some trail mix.” The crinkle of the wrapper is my answer. Clearing my throat, I mutter, “He’s Butch.”
“Butch? Who is?”
“Cody.”
“Butch?” Her eyes widen. “ Your Butch?”
My Butch.
But he isn’t.
“Yes! Butch.” My mouth closes when the word ‘my’ settles at the front of my brain like a surgeon’s scalpel on the brink of performing a lobotomy, but I swallow it. Because he isn’t mine. “The soldier.”
“Wait.” She wobbles her head from side to side like she’s trying to get water out of her ears. “I’m confused.”
“It’s not that complicated, Susanne,” I hiss. “He’s Butch Cassidy.”
“Cody is the pilot you’ve been talking to for years?”
I bite the inside of my cheek. “Yes.”
“WHAT?!”
Her outrage is so wonderful to witness that it lets me inhale deeply. “It’s fine,” I attempt to soothe.
“The fuck it’s fine!” she snaps, twisting around in her seat to yell, “COLTON KORHONEN!”
“Jeez, Zee, chill!”
Their bedroom door slams open and Colt rushes in with...
Damn, he’s sweet.
A can of soda and some gummy bears.
He brakes so fast that he skids when he realizes she’s sitting there, with me, safe and sound.
Well, not sound, furious .
“What’s wrong?”
“Your brother wrote my best friend a ‘Dear John’ letter.”
He steps deeper into the office and places the snacks on her desk. “Why would he do that?”
“You tell me.”
He cuts me a bewildered look. “She means you, doesn’t she? Not Parker?”
God, I have to tell Parker too.
This is so fucking humiliating!
“She means me,” I agree, pursing my lips. “Remember the day of the BBQ?”
“You mean the day I beat the shit out of my dad and he was arrested for hit and run causing death?” he asks wryly. “Yeah, I remember.”
“More importantly than that piece of turd, do you recall when I arrived?”
“Ohh, yes. Your grand entrance and?—”
“Didn’t you know his call name when Cody was a pilot?” Zee exclaims.
“I did. It was Buffalo Bill or some Western movie reference…” He pulls a face. “Butch Cassidy.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Cody was your pilot?”
“Ten points! This is why he’s been sleeping at the detachment! He’s ashamed of himself,” Zee growls. “As he should be.”
Awkwardly, he glances between us, then he sighs. “What do you want me to do?”
“Scalp him!”
“Zee!” I sputter.
“You’re joking, aren’t you? You’ve been moping around the damn house like a bear with a sore paw?—”
“This is Tee moping?” Colt mutters, sounding more bewildered than ever.
“Yes!” Zee wallops his arm. “She was hurting, Colt. Your brother hurt her.”
“I can’t scalp him, baby. I kinda like him. Plus, Mum and Mrs. Abelman would have something to say about it.”
She grits her teeth. “Then punch him or something.”
He turns to me. “Would that make you feel better, Tee?”
I fold my arms across my chest. “No. I-I need to get over it.”
He eyes me warily. “Cody’s a good guy, Tee. He wouldn’t... My uncle raised us right. Did you ask him?—”
“Did she ask him to pour salt in the wounds?” Zee’s eyes narrow upon her beleaguered husband. “You can ask him. Be the go-between.”
His mouth opens then shuts. “That I can do. Even if I outgrew telephone in the second grade.”
She jabs her finger at him. “I’m about to do an interview with some Chatty Cathy that’ll broadcast my image to the entirety of Canada, Colton Korhonen. The least you can do is figure out why your brother, the so-called decent guy, jerked Tee around.”
He concedes that with a nod. I get the feeling he’d agree to flash mob the town if it meant calming her down before the interview.
“Do you want a soda?”
“No.”
Right on cue, we all get a CGM alert. As Zee deals with it, Colt tugs me aside. “Are you okay, Tee?”
“Been better.”
He studies me, his gaze surprisingly gentle. “Were you... in a long-distance relationship? You didn’t say before but?—”
But that’s the only thing that’d make sense.
I’m overreacting, aren’t I? My head says yes, yet my heart wants me to sob.
“No. We were just friends. But even so, he cut me off like I meant nothing to him and that… I know he had the right to. It ... We... I-I know I had feelings for him. It’s not his fault that he didn’t.”
“Cody’s not perfect, but he wouldn’t intentionally string you along. Is that how you feel?”
“No. I didn’t expect him to cut himself off entirely, though. I figured once he was retired, hell, we might graduate to phone calls. I wasn’t expecting him to dick me down!”
(Not immediately.)
Colt’s nose wrinkles. “Okay, leave it with me.”
I shouldn’t be relieved, and I should totally deal with this myself because he’s right—we outgrew the second grade a long time ago—but I’m so grateful that I pull him to a halt. “Thank you, Colt.”
He pats my hand. “We’ll get to the bottom of this. I know him. Not as well as I used to, granted, but he would never purposely hurt you. You don’t grow up in this house with Clyde for a father and believe in hurting women.”
The words resonate because I recognize that—the Korhonens are putzes for their womenfolk.
I mean, it’s endearing, but it makes this situation more bewildering.
As he drifts off, I return to Zee’s side after I grab her makeup bag from the dresser where I know she keeps that stuff.
I pick up where I left off, both of us quiet as she finishes off her email, then I murmur, “You didn’t have to drag him into it.”
“Sure, I did. I know you too well, Tee. You’re going to bury your head in the sand and a pity party will rage on around you.”
I yank on her hair. “Remember who’s wielding a comb.”
She rolls her eyes. “Tell me I’m not right. You like to hurt sometimes, Tee. I think it’s an artistic thing.”
I huff, refusing to think about my conversation with Nonna.
A smile dances on her lips. “See?”
Though I ignore her, I finish her braid and force her to face me so I can do her makeup.
She’s one of those lucky bitches who doesn’t really need it—god, it’s a good thing I love her.
When I’ve finished, she looks like two million bucks instead of a million, and I plunk my ass on her desk chair as she scuttles into the restroom to gather her things.
While she changes, she calls out, “I heard you last night.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your music. It’s changed.”
“How?”
“It’s deeper.” Her head pops around the door. “Richer.” Her shoulder hitches. “Intense. It was always beautiful, but now it has a texture to it that wasn’t there before.”
“Pigeon Creek agrees with me.”
“Apparently. When did Cody tell you he was Butch?”
“The same day we went shopping.”
Gasping, she peers around the door again, but this time so she can glare at me. “You gave me nothing but shit when I told you Colton and I kissed, but Cody breaks your heart and I don’t hear so much as a peep from you about it?”
I stare at my shoes. “Maybe I did feel like wallowing. A smidge.”
“I’m too annoyed to be smug. You, you, you, hypocrite ! Just you wait until I tell Parker!”
I blow my second raspberry of the day at her, but she flips me the bird then storms out of the bathroom, the whole outfit so hot, she’s steaming.
“How do I look?”
“Banging.”
“Tee!”
“Fine.” I take in the cream linen dress and the cardigan she’s knotted on her shoulders—country club chic. But her Birkies tone it all down. “Relatable, beautiful, and like you don’t have a billionaire’s stick up your ass.”
“ That can be arranged,” Colton practically purrs from the doorway.
I roll my eyes as we lose a good three minutes with them gawping at one another like they’re engaged in an epic eye fuck.
“What time’s the journalist coming?” I ask, breaking this apart.
Honestly, I need to arm myself with skunk spray when these two get like this.
Colt visibly shakes himself down before answering, “Ten minutes.”
“Jesus. This is really happening.” Zee’s teeth nibble on the bottom lip I just painted with stain.
“It’s La Femme , Zee,” I comfort. “They’re more interested in your outfit than your ideologies. Anyway, they want to know about the wedding, not Clyde.”
“We started this way so you wouldn’t have to freak out,” Colton soothes. “You’ve been through the PR protocol with the team and you’re ready for anything they can throw at you.” I’m not sure if that’s his idea of being her cheer squad, but he sucks at it.
“You got this anyway because you’re fucking awesome. I wouldn’t be friends with you if you weren’t.” I study my nails. “I only allow the best in my life.”
Zee chuckles, but when she approaches me, she snags my hand and draws me to my feet. Her hug is less embrace and more cage, but I’ll take it.
“You are going to rock this. Canada will learn you are brilliant and that Colton is a lucky-ass man.
“You’re going to tell them about your wedding day—the sanctioned bits—and then everyone in town is going to watch the segment and realize what dumb fucks they were for ever questioning your morals because you, my darling, are better than Deep’n Delicious, maple syrup, and hockey. It’s time they knew that.”
Her bottom lip trembles, but she firms it quickly. “Love you.”
“Love you too. Now, go and rock this shit.”
Nodding, she releases a breath then lets go of me to stride over to her husband.
He presses a kiss to her temple, whispers something in her ear that makes her snicker.
Over her head, he shoots me a grateful smile.
I nod.
As they walk out hand in hand, I follow, keeping back so I can monitor the situation from afar.
No way I won’t be attending.
Unlike my best friend, who takes the world up on her shoulders, I have no problem ignoring PR protocol if the journalist gets nasty with Zee…