Chapter 36 Changes
Changes
Lucia winced when she stretched to place the last glass into the cupboard. A clean dish towel held a handful of drying utensils near the sink.
“I can’t wait for this to be done,” she muttered, drying her hands, grabbing her bag, and heading to her car.
It had been two weeks since she’d left the hospital, almost three since the warehouse incident and subsequent accident, and certain movements still hurt like a bitch.
The ride over to Francesca’s went by quickly, and before she knew it, she was ringing the doorbell.
“Lucy, you made it.” Francesca hugged her and ushered her inside.
The house was warm, carrying a subtle trace of bergamot and old wood. It was just the two of them—maybe tonight they’d finally talk. Lucia had been patient but so far, all she got were lots of hugs and occasional long stares.
Francesca had been restless lately—and oddly clingy. While the hugs weren’t new, the number of them had significantly increased since Lucia had left the hospital.
“Here you go.” Francesca handed her a cup of espresso and sat down next to her on the couch, holding her own tiny mug.
“Thank you.”
They both just sat there for a moment, Lucia taking a sip of the bitter brew.
“I’m sorry,” Francesca blurted out.
“For what?”
Francesca’s gaze snapped to Lucia. “You got hurt because of me.”
“I got hurt because a car drove into the van. It was an accident.”
“Yes, but without—”
“Jules ran a red light. It was an accident. She didn’t mean to, and I’m not mad at her. Why would I be upset with you?”
Francesca shook her head. She emptied her espresso before placing the cup on the coffee table.
She faced Lucia. “When I got out of the van… I still had the Madonna clutched in her case. I was disoriented and couldn’t breathe right at first, but then I turned and went back in to check on you, on all of you.
I was so relieved to hear Skye curse and Jules groan, then start babbling apologies. ”
“We got lucky.”
Francesca nodded. “But then I saw you, and you…you were bleeding and unconscious, and for a second, I couldn’t move. I just stared at you, willing you to open your eyes.” Her voice had dropped to a whisper, her hands twisting in her lap, nails digging into her palms.
“I’m sorry.”
Francesca’s jaw tightened. “Why are you apologizing? You did nothing wrong, and I’m the one who—”
“I’m not apologizing. I’m sorry you were in that situation. It must have been hard, and I am sorry you went through it, regardless of how it affected me.”
“You’re killing me.”
“Are we even, then?”
Francesca let out a small laugh. “No, because in your scenario, I’d be dead. You’d have killed me. To make it even, I’d have to come back and haunt you, since I only almost killed you.”
“Well, then, maybe I won’t kill you. I’m not into ghosts and scary stuff.”
A beat of silence.
“My point is, I thought you were dead,” Francesca’s voice broke. “During the impact, I thought I’d killed you all. Then Skye and Jules were fine, and I was almost dizzy with relief, only to…”
“I don’t plan on getting into any more car crashes.”
Francesca released a shaky laugh, but then the humor drained from her face. “I’m not joking, Lucy. I can’t do this anymore. I nearly lost all of you. And for what?”
A pause. A breath.
“There’s always been risk in our work, but over time, after getting luckier than we had any right to, I might have become complacent, thinking us invincible.” She shook her head. “That should be a folly of youth, no?”
“Nothing happened,” Lucia said.
“This time.” Francesca’s hands trembled in her lap. She looked at Lucia for a long moment, then: “I’m shutting down the Collective.”
“Wait, what?”
~ ~ ~
While Lucia and Penelope had been texting and talking a lot, they hadn’t been able to meet up as often as either would have liked in the past two weeks, yet this Saturday, Penelope would spend the night at Lucia’s, and Lucia had plans.
She had prepared a walnut-mushroom lasagna and a large salad of leafy greens and was just setting the table when the doorbell rang.
The smell of roasted mushrooms and garlic filled the space, warm and inviting. The overhead light cast a golden glow over the small dining table, where mismatched plates waited.
“Hi,” Lucia said, her breath still uneven from hurrying to the door.
“Hi.” Penelope stepped inside, connecting their lips in a quick kiss. “How are you?”
“Good. Better now, even.”
Penelope smiled. “Charmer.”
“Hmm, are you hungry? The lasagna is ready, though I can also change the setting to keeping it warm.”
“Well, since you told me to come starving…”
Lucia grinned. “That’s when things taste the best, even if they aren’t that great.”
“You’re ridiculous. I’m sure it’s delicious.”
After plating the food, they sat at the dining room table and ate, quietly at first, with Lucia taking in Penelope.
Each small, deliberate bite revealed the quiet precision that seemed to define everything about her. A stark contrast to the chaos Lucia usually inhabited, but somehow, Penelope’s order was strangely appealing.
Penelope took a sip of her tea. “This is really good. I’d not say no if you were willing to part with the recipe.”
“I actually prefer to be the one who cooks it for you,” Lucia said.
“I can live with that.”
After they finished eating, they settled on the couch.
“You wanted to talk to me about something,” Penelope said.
“Yes, but first, tell me if you’ve heard anything back about the audit.”
Penelope sighed. “Nothing much. They’re still looking into various avenues, but after filling out a questionnaire, they’ve not been in touch again. Jules checked a second time, but she still couldn’t find anything.”
“Huh. Maybe all that info is with the auditors. Not like they’ll share anything during the process. And Montgomery?”
“Unchanged. She keeps her distance. I don’t know if it’s because she suspects me of anything or just to keep things impartial.”
“You didn’t do anything—well, not anything anyone could prove.”
“That’s not an uplifting thought.”
“Sorry.” Lucia took Penelope’s hand, stroking the back. “I’m truly sorry I got you involved in all this.”
“You have nothing to apologize for. I’m not a victim. I chose my lot, and it’ll work out somehow.” Penelope picked up her mug.
“I appreciate that, but it’s never that simple, is it?”
“No.”
“I was wondering, did you make up your mind about your dad? Not whether he did it, I meant are you gonna go talk to him?”
“That’s also complicated.” Penelope sighed. “He doesn’t want us to see him like that.”
“Too bad.”
“What?”
Lucia shrugged. “I don’t know. Didn’t he kinda forfeit the right to choose this? Like, fine, if he was fully innocent, maybe I’d respect such a wish, but it seems like he lied to you. I don’t see why you need to listen to his wishes now.”
“Huh. I never thought about it like that. But what if he is innocent and I got it wrong?”
“Did you, though? Or do you want to be wrong and that’s why you’re telling yourself to keep an open mind?”
Penelope went quiet, her expression folding into something tense and unreadable. “I need to think about it some more.”
“Of course.”
“Anyway, enough about me. Tell me about you.”
“Right. I told you that I planned to quit after this run, and I will. I want to see what else is out there, but…”
“You have to do something else first,” Penelope said, sounding almost resigned.
“No. This isn’t one of those moments where you’re promised something that never happens because it always gets delayed. I’m serious, about this, and about…us.” She squeezed Penelope’s hand.
“That’s good. I’m serious about us, too.”
“It’s just…It’s not really my news to share, but I still think you should know as it affects you, too, and—”
“Just say it.”
“Francesca is dismantling the Collective.”
Penelope stilled. “Are you serious?”
“Why would I joke about that?”
“No, no. It’s just… Wow. Is it because she finally has the Madonna?”
“That likely makes it easier, but no. It was the accident. She said she almost caused us all to die, which she didn’t, but now she can’t do this anymore. She’s afraid our good luck has run out.”
“I understand.” She traced her finger along the rim of her cup.
“Yes, I thought you might.” Still, the idea of no Collective seemed almost unreal. Lucia didn’t regret leaving, but a pang of something heavy still echoed inside her at the thought of the Collective being done.
After all the chaos of the recent months, Lucia still sometimes marveled that she and Penelope had made it here, and while they’d stumbled a few times, they still strode along the same path, willfully and with a joy she’d not experienced before—not outside of her art.
“Are you up to watching a movie? I still feel kinda lazy.”
“Yes, of course. You should take things slow.”
“Not too slow, though.” Lucia leaned in and stole a soft kiss. “All right. What you in the mood for?”
“Nothing with crime or art or too much violence.”
Lucia suppressed a laugh. “Noted. No Godfather or Die Hard. I’m assuming Shawshank Redemption is out as well?”
“A movie about a prison break? Yes, I’d say so.”
“What about Groundhog Day or Ratatouille? Or if you prefer something gay, we could watch But I’m a Cheerleader or Saving Face?”
“It’s been ages since I saw Saving Face. Let’s watch that one.”
“All right. Popcorn or anything?”
“I’m still full, thanks.”
Lucia set up the movie and settled back on the couch.
A soft blanket lay across their laps, and the flicker of the screen lit Penelope’s profile in pale blue. During the film, they drifted closer until they lay tangled together, Penelope careful not to press too hard against Lucia’s still-tender ribs.
Halfway through, soothed by the warmth, Penelope’s nearness, and the dim lighting, Lucia drifted off—startling awake what felt like a second later.
“What?” She rubbed her eyes.
“You fell asleep.” Penelope pressed a kiss against her cheek. “Bed?”
Lucia nodded. “It’s been quite a long week.”
“I’d say it’s been more than a week.”
Penelope helped her up, and together they padded into the bedroom to get ready for bed.
They hadn’t had many quiet evenings like this—unhurried, undisturbed, theirs.
Lucia savored the quiet intimacy of it: curling close, pulling Penelope’s back against her chest, the steady breathing under her palm and inhaling the scent of her hair.
She could get used to all these changes if this was her life now.
It seemed to take no time for her to fall into a deep sleep.