Chapter 19
Niko wasn’t a hero. Motivator, maybe. Shit-talker, definitely. But whenever he came in to do these classes, he saw real heroes. He saw women who refused to wilt, who protected their children no matter what it cost—their homes, their livelihoods, their support systems.
Tonight, he was doing a demo with a block of cheese and a battered wooden spatula, showing the kids how to wedge their fingers between an assailant’s grip and their own skin. His volunteer, a four-year-old named Silas, was primed and ready to go.
“Okay, just like I showed you.”
Silas’ face scrunched in concentration as he executed the move and the cheese crumbled.
The crowd, mostly single mothers with their kids in tow, erupted in cheers and then a few giggles when Silas did several karate kicks.
The laughter was contagious, the sound bouncing off the walls, and for a second, everyone’s spirit, even the haunted ones with faraway stares, looked like they might believe the world wasn’t all bad.
Those were the moments Niko lived for in these classes.
Just a spark of hope, of light, of levity in the darkness that the children and women had lived in.
He always believed the spirit needed healing as much, if not more, than the human body.
The next demo was a success, there were more cheers, and he high-fived Alice, a seven-year-old, tiny for her age, in unicorn pajamas, who’d just nailed the “solar plexus surprise,” then watched as she scurried back to her mom, grinning from ear to ear.
The class wound down with the usual Q&A, which tonight seemed to have a lot less to do with gouging out eyeballs and a lot more to do with Niko’s love life.
“Do you have a girlfriend?” Alice called out, and one of the older women, who looked to be in her sixties, raised her hand.
“Are you taking applications?” her tone was only half-joking.
As much as he wished he could answer in the affirmative, even if it was “fake,” Niko responded with his usual deflection and charm.
Clearly, he’d crossed a serious boundary or triggered her. Just because he hadn’t meant to do it intentionally didn’t matter. The end result was the same. She was upset and that was the last thing he wanted.
Niko finished the last round of goodbyes, dispensed a few extra fist bumps, then slipped out the side door.
He didn’t want to linger, his mind was still snagged on that moment with Tiana, the way her eyes had shuttered and her smile collapsed when she’d seen him, like he’d tripped a wire inside her.
He should’ve said something, anything, something smart, kind, or anything at all.
Instead, Niko had watched her get herself more and more worked up.
Then Ramona came in, and he had to go teach, and now he had no clue where she was, if she was even still there.
Had she left? If she had, was she walking?
He cut through the back hallway, pushed open the door to the offices, and found Ramona standing in front of a brand new copier. She looked up and smiled. “Hey, handsome!”
“Hello, Beautiful, is Tiana still around?”
Ramona shook her head. “No, she took off after I saw you in the conference room. Seemed like she was in a hurry.”
He hesitated, searching for a better way to phrase it, then just blurted, “Did she seem okay to you?”
“I don’t know.” Ramona paused, then shrugged. “She would never show it if something was bothering her.”
Really?
“Right,” he agreed, despite knowing why.
“You know that girl could have the whole world on her shoulders and be drowning, and never ask for a life vest. But can you blame her?”
Could he? He clearly didn’t know anything about her.
Ramona nodded, then wiped her hands on a paper towel.
“Before I forget, I wanted to thank you. Seriously, Niko. You have no idea what it means, having you show up for these ladies and their little ones and their not-so-little ones. Some of them haven’t had an adult male in their lives who isn’t…
” She trailed off, but he understood. “You give them hope, and that’s all people need, really. ”
He gave her a lopsided smile. “It’s the least I can do. Really.” He meant it. It truly was the absolute least he could do.
He was turning to leave when he noticed the new computers, and he’d also noticed that the kitchen had been renovated, the roof got replaced, and there were new vans out front.
“The place looks great! Computers, roof, vans—”
“Kitchen and bathroom renovations, round the clock security, staff insurance, and a new HVAC system.” Ramona exhaled with a smile.
“Wow, that’s great. Did grants come through?”
Her face scrunched as she blurted out, “No, it was Ti—” she stopped herself. “Aren’t you and Tiana together? I thought you were a couple.”
Okay, so context clues were telling him that Tiana had funded these improvements. So that was where her money went. Still, she had to have enough for herself to live in something better than a glorified shack.
The shelter’s phone started ringing, and Niko stepped into the hallway and lifted a hand in a wordless farewell, catching Ramona’s quick, grateful smile as she picked up.
He paused on the threshold, thumbed at his phone, and half-heartedly scrolled through his unread texts.
After a beat, he thumbed out a message to his sister, the one person who’d always had the blueprint for his brain.
Niko: Frankie, you home? I need to talk.
He waited, shifting awkwardly, until three dots appeared, then vanished, then blinked back in.
Frankie: Yes. Come by.
The tightness in his chest loosened by half.
The drive across Hope Falls was short and familiar, the kind of trip he could navigate on muscle memory alone.
The mountain air had a bite to it this late in the year, and old pines swayed overhead, brushing against the deepening dusk.
He always loved the Christmas lights on Main Street, strung between storefronts, casting geometric shadows on the sidewalk and the candy cane and snowman décor they had on the lampposts.
It truly was a magical time. Maybe some of that magic could rub off on him.
When he pulled up to Frankie’s house, he spotted her on the porch, huddled in a threadbare hoodie with her Irish setter Lucy perched beside her like a bouncer.
At Niko’s approach, Lucy launched herself forward, a blur of copper fur and uncontrolled joy, tail thumping a staccato rhythm against each step as she bounded towards him.
He squatted and gave her a good petting while she covered his face in kisses.
When he stood back up, he pulled out a beef jerky he’d grabbed from his stash in the glove box and gave it to her.
“You’re spoiling her, you know,” Frankie called down, arms folded against the cold.
He grinned up at her. “Uncle Niko will always be her favorite.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You’re gonna be like this when we have kids, aren’t you?”
“Absolutely. I am not above bribing and/or buying my nieces and nephews—”
“You don’t have to buy your nieces and nephews love.”
“Who said anything about love? I’m going for Favorite Uncle title every year. Top spot.”
Frankie rolled her eyes as if she was irritated, but her mouth was smiling. “Seriously, how old are you?”
“Alright, Yaya’s favorite. I don’t think you’re one to talk.”
Yaya made no secret that Frankie was her favorite grandchild, despite having sixteen. But she was her only girl, so that was the only reason Niko was okay with coming in second.
“Yes, and all I had to do was be born.”
Frankie flicked her hair as they walked up the steps, and Niko smiled.
He loved seeing his baby sister so happy and sassy.
He hadn’t seen her like that in…a long time.
Lucy circled Niko’s legs as Frankie opened the door to let him into the foyer.
The scent of linseed oil and turpentine hit him first, layered over with something sweet and yeasty from the kitchen.
He glanced around, noticing the small changes since his last visit: a new coat rack, an oversized armchair with several pillows, and a cluster of thrift-store vases crowding the entryway table, each holding something wild or dried.
Frankie led him past the living room, where the low hum of a vinyl record spun something old and soulful, down the hall, and into the studio at the back of the house.
The room had once been a sun porch and had floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the backyard.
Light spilled through the glass, pooling onto heavy drop cloths and a vast, paint-splattered table.
There was art everywhere. Canvases in various states of completion leaned against every available surface, a riot of color and chaos that looked like a catalog of her moods.
He still couldn’t believe that his baby sister was married.
And she was an artist. A real artist. Her paintings filled the space, there was an entire wall filled with work spanning from as young as five years old until she was in college.
Liam had saved her paintings, unbeknownst to her, and displayed them.
His sister was talented, truly talented.
“So this is it, huh?” Niko looked around the studio.
“Oh, you haven’t seen it?”
“No.”
“Yep, this is it.”
“This is why Liam bought the house.”
She nodded.
Her now husband had bought the house, sight unseen, because of the studio they were standing in. Because growing up, Frankie said she wanted to have an art studio with these exact specifications. He never knew Liam was a romantic. He’d always been so quiet.
“Have you seen AJ?” she asked out of the blue.
“He came by the Airbnb to grab the rest of his things, and I’ve seen him in passing when he’s with Poppy picking up or dropping off Tabitha next door.” Poppy was Tabitha’s nanny.
“I think I’m gonna start doing Sunday dinners.”
“Have you talked to Yaya about that?”