Chapter 38 #2
“My husband’s brother,” I say. “Well, ex-husband’s brother.”
Her eyebrows climb.
“It’s a long story.”
“I hope it’s a scandalous story.”
“It begins in a hot tub.”
Her mouth falls open. “Marie!”
“It’s Lennon now,” I laugh. “Lennon Marie. And hey, I was having a difficult evening.”
“You slept with your husband’s brother in a hot tub, Lennon Marie?”
“We did not have sex in the hot tub! That would be unsanitary.”
Harper laughs so hard she has to grab my arm.
The sound cracks something open inside me. Not painfully this time. It feels like a window being thrown wide after a house has been sealed up for years.
She links her fingers through mine.
“Come on,” I say. “You have to meet him.”
“I absolutely do.”
I lead her toward the booth, slowing when we reach the line. August is still working, but he looks up as we approach. His gaze moves from my face to Harper’s, taking in the tears and the death grip we have on each other.
Concern sharpens his expression.
I shake my head quickly to let him know: Good tears.
He relaxes, though only a little.
“August,” I say, “this is Harper.”
Recognition comes immediately. He remembers me telling him about her.
August removes his gloves and stands.
Harper looks up at him.
Then up a little more.
“Jesus,” she says.
August’s mouth twitches. “I get that a lot.”
She arches an eyebrow. “I bet you do.”
He comes around the table and holds out his hand, but Harper ignores it and hugs him.
August freezes. I have to work hard to keep from laughing.
“Thank you,” Harper says into his chest.
His eyes meet mine over her head.
“For what?” he asks carefully.
“For loving her.”
The humor leaves his face. Then his arms settle around Harper. He gets that she’s family. The found kind that is the best sort.
“Easy job,” he says.
That almost starts me crying again.
Harper finally releases him and points at the woman waiting patiently in his chair. “You’re working. Sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, I’m interrupting.”
“You made Lennon look happy. You can interrupt whenever you want.”
Harper presses her lips together.
I know that expression. She’s trying not to cry again.
“We’re going to catch up,” I tell him.
He nods. “Take all the time you need.”
Harper and I find an empty stretch of wall near a closed service door. We sit on the floor without caring that we’re grown women or that convention attendees keep stepping around our legs.
We talk until the overhead lights begin to dim for the afternoon competition.
It isn’t enough time. Ten years could never fit inside a convention break.
She tells me about Caleb. Her whole face changes when she says his name, softening in a way that tells me everything before she even begins.
She shows me pictures of Bruiser, who isn’t remotely small enough for the nickname anymore.
There’s a photo of him pretending to hate the birthday crown Harper put on his head and another of Caleb asleep on the couch with Bruiser’s feet shoved beneath his thigh.
I show her Owen.
I show her Mayhem hanging upside down from the curtains and Goblin sitting inside the bathroom sink like a tiny judgmental gargoyle.
She tells me about her shop, and I tell her how August is building his own name. We discover we live close enough that there is no excuse not to be in each other’s lives again for real.
Then I tell her about Jake.
Not everything.
Not here.
But enough.
Her hand closes around mine and stays there while I speak. She doesn’t interrupt with questions that make me prove what happened. She doesn’t tilt her head or search my face for inconsistencies.
She just believes me. Immediately. Completely.
“I’m sorry,” she says when I finish. “God, Lennon.”
“I’m okay.”
“You don’t have to be.”
“I’m getting there.”
She nods. “You should have called me, babe.”
“I know.”
“I would have come.”
“I know that now.”
Her face crumples. “I hate that you didn’t know it then.”
I lean against her shoulder.
For a while, neither of us says anything.
The convention continues around us. A crowd cheers somewhere behind the rows of booths. Music starts over the speakers. The world keeps moving, careless and loud.
“I don’t want to lose you again,” I say.
“You won’t.”
“People always say that.”
“I’m not people.”
I glance at her.
She wipes under her nose with the back of her wrist, looking deeply offended by the entire concept of tears.
“I’m serious,” she says. “You’re coming to dinner when we get home.”
“Okay.”
“Caleb will cook.”
“Does Caleb know how to cook?”
“No, but it’s important that he continue believing he does.”
I laugh.
“And you’ll bring August,” she continues. “And Owen, whenever you have him.”
“And the kittens?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Then the deal is off.”
She nudges my shoulder. “Fine. Bring the monsters.”
We exchange numbers. Harper sends me a message while we’re sitting beside each other.
[HARPER: There. Now you can’t disappear.
I type back.
[LENNON: You either
Her phone lights in her hand.
We both look at the words.
The joke falls away.
Harper lifts her eyes to mine. “I won’t.”
“Neither will I.”
When we stand, my legs are numb and my face feels swollen from crying. Harper hugs me again, softer this time.
“I love you,” she whispers.
I close my eyes.
“I love you too.”
She returns to her booth, turning twice to wave at me before the crowd swallows her.
I stand there until I can’t see her anymore.
Then I go back to August.
His line is finally shorter. He’s cleaning his station while the woman admires her finished tattoo in the mirror, turning her arm beneath the lights.
August watches me approach.
“Well?”
I walk straight into him.
He braces as my arms wrap around his waist. One hand settles on the back of my head.
“Well,” I say against his chest, “apparently I’m getting my best friend back.”
His hold tightens.
“That so?”
“She invited us to dinner.”
“You told her I don’t eat vegetables?”
“I told her nothing that would embarrass you. Plus, we’re working on the vegetables. Vegetables are good for you.”
“Then you definitely didn’t tell her the truth.”
I smile into his shirt.
For years, happiness felt like something that happened somewhere else. In other people’s homes. To women who were easier to love or better at recognizing danger before it sat down at their kitchen tables.
Now it is here, so ordinary I almost miss how miraculous it is.
It’s August’s hand rubbing slowly over my back while tattoo machines buzz around us. It’s Owen’s laughter when Goblin knocks a cup off the counter. It’s two kittens destroying every room we clean. It’s a message already waiting on my phone from a woman I thought I had lost forever.
Jake stole years from me, sure.
But every one from now on out I claim as my happily ever after.