Chapter 30
HATCH
Listen. Lucy going by Alice is one thing. But now she’s also “Mary Ann?”
What the hell is going on?
I glance to the others for some kind of signal here. X has completely relaxed beside me, and in my periphery, Duchess is studiously staring out the window, dabbing her eyes with a napkin.
Reading the room, I sheathe my knife and turn to see if a Smoked-out Lucy has it in her to explain, but then I see her expression.
She looks more sober as she gives the woman a warm, soft, practiced smile. Threaded through it all is unmistakable sorrow.
“Hi, Iris.” Her voice wobbles slightly. “I missed you, sis.”
Sis.
My chest aches as my clueless brain finally catches up. Lucy stands behind me, still unsteady, and I quickly turn to catch her elbow.
“Thanks,” she murmurs. Her eyes are glassy again, red for an entirely different reason than the Smoke? “Walk with me?”
“Of course.”
I move beside her, arm wrapped around her waist as we cross the room toward the woman—Iris—ready to catch Lucy before she stumbles.
Iris shuffles forward too, and I have a brief panic over what I’d do if both of them fell, but they come together fine.
Lucy grips my hand tightly when she stops, that insane pole grip easily using me for support, and Iris is thankfully able to rest against the nearby sideboard I ushered them to so they could keep balance.
A framed photograph sits between them, and… I see it.
A guy that looks suspiciously like a twenty-something version of Chef without a scowl, leans against a swing set smiling as he watches a young woman push a pre-teen on a swing.
Both girls have long, strawberry-blond hair fluttering in the wind.
The two adults are about my and Lucy’s age and the woman has ice-blue eyes identical to Iris’s.
The girl on the swing has green eyes not far from Lucy’s unique hazel-blue hue.
Sisters.
Iris cups Lucy’s cheek.
“I’ve been worried sick.” Her lyrical voice trembles. “You said you’d only be gone a few days. But it’s been weeks.”
My stomach twists.
Lucy’s come in here every day I’ve been watching her, so the woman isn’t just confused by Lucy’s appearance, she’s in another timeline altogether.
Lucy leans into the touch, and her forehead scrunches as she seems to focus very hard on making sure her words don’t slur.
“I know. I’m sorry. I tried coming back to you as quickly as I could, but I was delayed.”
“The storm.” Iris nods immediately. “I told you it was liable to flood out there. Did you have your safety hammer at least?”
Lucy’s lips twitch, and heartbreak flashes across her face.
“Of course. But I didn’t have to use it. I went the long way home.” I squeeze her hand as she reaches up to do the same to the one Iris holds against her cheek. “Nothing could’ve kept me from getting back to you, sissy.”
Iris beams, and just as she opens her mouth to reply, the kitchen door swings open to reveal Chef.
His eyes widen in the doorway, and he swiftly sets down the stack of plates in his hands before crossing the bakery and gently placing a hand on Iris’s shoulder.
“Mi reina, what are you doing up? Let’s take you back to the apartment. You should be sleeping.”
He carefully turns her toward him, and she smiles even brighter than she did Lucy.
“Oscar, look who I found.” She points excitedly at Lucy. “After all this time, she’s come back to us.”
Chef’s expression softens, and the emotion there twists my stomach painfully.
I’ve seen men in love before. Hell, I’ve watched my father mourn it half my life. But the way Oscar looks at his wife is something else entirely.
It’s patient and tender. Hopeful.
And so fucking tragically heartbroken.
He swallows thickly and blinks away the moisture building in his eyes. When he looks at Lucy, all those emotions melt into gratitude.
“Mary Ann.” His voice roughens. “It’s so good to have you back.”
“Is this your new boyfriend, Mary Ann?” Iris sneaks a glance at me. “He’s mighty cute. Not as cute as my Oscar, though.”
Lucy smiles at me and pats my chest. “Sure is. We haven’t known each other long, but…” She pretends to take my measure, then nods. “I’d say he has potential.”
Dadgum, no wonder she’s been able to hide away this long. Even high, she’s rolling with something this emotional effortlessly, wearing “Mary Ann” like a second skin.
She winks at me, and I can’t help the slow grin that spreads across my face. With my arm still around her waist, I tug her slightly closer.
“Potential, hm? Is that all I am to you now?”
I lean down and whisper against her ear, brushing my lips lightly across the shell and fucking loving the shiver I cause.
“Did the Sugar Room mean nothing to you, bunny?”
Lucy immediately flushes a deep, beautiful plum color. She bites her lip, but she can’t fight her smile.
“I don’t know. Maybe I need a refresher soon?”
My brows shoot up, and Iris laughs, making Chef’s grin grow wider.
“Oscar, look at these lovebirds! They’re almost as smitten as we are.”
“Oh, um…” Lucy laughs awkwardly as she studiously ignores me. “We’re not in love. It’s uh, really early, you know?”
Iris rolls her eyes. “You might be able to fool yourself, but him?” She points at me. “He’s smit-ten. There’s no ignoring the way he looks you.”
I feel my cheeks heat as she waves vaguely between us.
“And the heat coming off y’all is hotter than a broil.” She grins. “Y’all let me know when the wedding is, okay? I call matron of honor, and Oscar promised Deddy on his deathbed that he’d walk her down the aisle. Don’t make a liar out of him.”
Fuck, it’s like a punch in the chest. My smile falters, and Lucy’s falls right along with it, although I’m one hundred percent certain not for the exact same reasons as mine. Suddenly she’s very invested in picking at a cuticle, doing anything other than looking at me.
Iris’s brow furrows. “Oh, dear. Was it something I said?”
“Of course, not.” Chef folds a loose strand into the braid crown around her head. When she shuffles into him, he glances at her half-slippered foot and winces. “It’s late, querida. Why don’t we go watch a movie together in bed?”
She studies the three of us for a moment, trying to solve an impossible puzzle, too many of its pieces hidden by her mind.
“But… what about them?” She points at Lucy and me, then slips into Spanish. Chef listens, at one point barely hiding a grimace over something she frowns over. But by the end an idea seems to cross his mind, and when she’s finished, he nods to the two of us and replies in English for our benefit.
“I know they just got here, my love, but your sister has graciously offered to close up for us so we can finally have a night of rest.” He smiles warmly. “Would you like that?”
Her uncertainty vanishes, and she claps. “Oh, how thoughtful. You would do that for us, Mary Ann?”
She looks to Lucy for confirmation, and my girl just nods.
“Of course. You guys work too hard and need the break.”
“Ah!” Iris giggles. “This is wonderful! Oscar’s been running himself ragged over his restaurant. I barely see him anymore! But I understand.” Her smile turns wistful toward him. “Someday soon we’ll have our adventures. Right now it’s all about making sure the restaurant is the best it can be.”
A pained expression flashes over Chef’s face, but he forces a smile that doesn’t meet his eyes.
“I’m here with you now, my love. Let’s go upstairs, yeah?”
She nods eagerly, then checks with Lucy one more time, pointing a pink-nailed finger.
“You’ll make sure to lock the doors? You remember that one time with the raccoon.”
“The one you fed every night after that?” Chef snorts. “I’m surprised you don’t want her to forget.”
“True.” Iris taps her chin thoughtfully before eyeing Lucy with a mischievous grin. “As long as he’s as nice as Sir Bandit, I’m sure we can make it work.”
Lucy laughs. “Deal. If there’s not a nice raccoon in sight, I’ll make sure everything gets locked up.”
“I knew I could count on you, little sis.” Iris winks, then pats Lucy’s hand, ending it with a soft smile.
“But next time I tell you to stay home, you listen, alright? This boy seems nice, but those other people you hang out with… they’re not good for you, Mary Ann.
I can’t lose you. You and Oscar are all I’ve got. ”
Lucy swallows, and my own throat feels dry, as Iris pulls her in for a hug. Lucy goes easily, wrapping her arms around her.
“I love you, Mary Ann,” Iris whispers as she rubs Lucy’s back.
Lucy’s eyes close tight, and a small drip of moisture teases the corner as she squeezes. “I love you too, sis.”
The two don’t let go until Iris is seemingly satisfied, breaking apart first. I swiftly hook my arm around Lucy’s waist to make sure she’s steady, and Iris smiles at us both before taking Chef’s hand, allowing him to guide her back toward the stairs.
Halfway up, though, she pauses.
“And you.” She points directly at me. “You take care of my sister, you hear me? I practically raised that girl after our daddy died. She deserves the world.”
“Oh, I agree.” I squeeze Lucy gently where my arm still rests around her waist. “I am in love with her, after all.”
Lucy sucks in a sharp breath and her wide eyes snap to mine. I grin and press a kiss to her forehead, slightly furrowed with shock.
Upstairs, Iris giggles wildly.
“I knew it! Night y’all!”
Then she turns and continues climbing.
Chef lingers, and when the upstairs door closes, his shoulders sag as he lets out a weary sigh.
“Goodnight, everyone.”
We all bid him the same. But his eyes fall on Lucy—at us both, actually.
“Thank you for that. She needed it. It’s been… ” He rubs at the back of his neck. “It’s been hard lately.”
Lucy nods. “Anytime, Oscar.”
He offers us a tired smile, then disappears upstairs after his wife.
The bakery falls quiet in their wake. For a long moment, nobody says anything.
Finally, I prompt Lucy.
“Mary Ann?”
“Her younger sister, as you could probably gather.” Lucy’s lips twitch into a small smile as she drags herself out of my embrace to sit back down. I hate it, but I let her go, following closely behind until she’s safely sat.