52. Arnaz
ARNAZ
“ Peace ”
It wasn’t in bed or underneath, the backyard, toilet, patch of shade, strip of sunlight, couch, kitchen, midnight concrete.
It wasn’t inside of me, or the smile of a stranger. I summoned it by name. I pretended not to need it.
I fucked, I wept, I prayed, I drank, I sweated, I howled, I slept, I waited.
Never did it come.
Never did I find it.
T he sky rumbles as lightning blinks through the dense gray clouds.
“Is this it?” the driver asks, rolling to a stop.
“I think so.” I check the rideshare app for the address.
Carter’s Rolls-Royce Black Badge Cullinan comes into view as we pull into the driveway.
So much for hoping he’d be off traveling.
I’m here for Ana?s.
“Thank you.” I climb out and make my way to the door, tucking my head to shield myself from the rain. Standing under the floral archway, I look out at the street.
With the hectic game schedule, it’s taken me longer than I wanted to make it out to check on Ana?s. I’m free for the next three days and plan to spend them making sure she’s okay.
There’s no way I can be here for more than a few hours, so I booked a room at a nearby hotel.
The .25 mg of risperidone my psychiatrist prescribed with a strict warning to take only if I experience a severe panic attack or anxiety sits in the small pocket of the duffel strung over my shoulder. I told her I thought it was unnecessary, but she disagreed after hearing about this trip.
I stretch out my hands and watch raindrops splatter against the cement before lifelessly joining the puddle.
I watch my breath form a cloud in the air.
I’m here for Ana?s.
I ring the doorbell and wait.
I don’t need any fingers to count the times I’ve been here.
They moved to New Jersey after I joined the league.
And nothing, I promised myself, except for Mom falling sick, would ever make me cross the threshold.
I understand Ana?s’s choice to recover here, and that she’d only choose it if she had nowhere else to go.
I offered to pay for an at-home nurse, but us and strangers—nah.
Plus, Mom, in a head-scratching reversal, decided once we were older and out of the house, that she’d actually give the nurturing mother bit a shot.
I’ve never had use for it personally, but Ana?s allows it for rare times like this when she physically needs the help.
I hate thinking about all the ER visits she sat alone in the waiting room.
The door opens. “Arnaz!”
My eyes widen at Mom’s outfit.
Chanel makes velour sweatsuits now?
“Come in. How was your flight?”
Is that tomato sauce below the hooded neck?
“G-good,” I reply, bending down to unlace my boots.
She looks behind me. “Will Salem be joining us?”
“What? Why would he?—”
“Hi, son.”
My gaze remains trained on Mom. “Carter.”
The air shifts as Mom goes rigid.
I straighten. “Can you take me to Ana?s?” I ask her.
“Maybe we can talk before you leave?” Carter asks.
“Mom?”
“Y-yes.” She blinks rapidly. “This way.” She shoots him a tense smile, then says to me, “Are you hungry? I made Bolognese.”
She cooks now? I’d look around for tells of hired help, but then I’d have to look in the direction of Carter.
“I’m good.”
I’m starving, but I’ll order something for me and Ana?s.
We enter the elevator in silence, but before it even starts its ascent, she’s breaking the quiet. “You know, Arnaz, maybe you can just hear him out before you leave.”
“I’m here to see Ana?s, and then I’m gone,” I reply tersely.
“God, you’re so much alike.”
“What?” I glare at her. “I’m nothing like him.”
“I just meant?—”
“Stop. Please.”
“Okay.” She raises her hands. “Okay.”
When the elevator comes to a stop, she leads the way out. “Your room is here. And Ana?s’s is right next door.”
“Thanks.” I head straight for Ana?s.
I hear the opening tune for Exosphere as I push open the door. She has her back to me, and I quietly place my bag down, peel off my coat, and throw it on the chair along with my beanie. I tiptoe over and confirm she’s asleep before heading to the bathroom.
I turn on the hot water and push the liquid hand soap spout four times.
One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi, four Mississippi, five Mississippi, six Mississippi…twelve Mississippi…
Killing the faucet, I stare at my wet hands.
What did I do wrong?
I leave the bathroom and retrace my steps.
My skin raises like it’s separating from my muscles, and my nerve endings send a message to my spine— be careful, remember the cost of absentmindedness— as my gaze lands on my coat.
I reach for it and pause with my hand midair .
No, I am not a kid anymore. I’m not afraid of him .
I toss the coat back down.
Salem will marry Lucien.
My legs lock in place.
Just fight it.
I ball my fists.
Just this once.
You’ll lose him forever.
I snatch up the coat, drag it over to the closet, stab a hanger through the sleeves, and hook it on the rod.
I scrub my hands over my face . Here five minutes and crushing it.
I hear a meow at my feet.
I bend down and pick up Alfie, then nestle his head under my chin.
Walking us over to the window, I watch the tree branches thrash back and forth from the force of the wind and rain.
When my stomach rumbles, I pull up a food delivery app, copy and paste the address from Ana?s’s text, and check out the options.
There’s a Thai place with decent reviews.
I order everything mild in case Ana?s can’t have spice.
“Alfie tried to leave through the window too.”
My head whips around at the sound of Ana?s’s voice.
“I swear he sees ghosts here. Something creeps him out.”
That makes two of us.
“How are you feeling?” I ask.
I pad over and get in bed next to her, tucking my knees on top of the comforter.
“I tried to wait up for you. How long have you been here?”
“Only a couple of minutes.”
She nods as she covers her mouth and yawns.
“How are you feeling?” I repeat.
“The gas they pumped into my abdomen to be able to see through the cameras has finally worn off. I had a shooting pain in my neck and shoulders for days. And I looked like I was eight months pregnant. Now I just feel achy and tired.”
“And your pain on a scale from one to ten?”
“Eh. They gave me the good stuff. Mom and I figured out the right schedule.”
“What can I do?”
“Help me outta bed. I gotta pee. It hurts to crunch.”
I get to my feet, make my way to her side of the bed, and help her up.
When she hobbles back from the bathroom, she lifts her T-shirt and shows me the stitches.
“Whoa.” I count four swollen incision spots. “No wonder it hurts to crunch.”
“Yeah. They gave me scans of the organs where they cut out the inflamed tissue. Wanna see?”
“Hard pass.”
She laughs as I help her back into bed.
“I ordered us Thai,” I tell her.
“Mango sticky rice?”
“Yep.”
“Yum.”
“Hey, Mom said something weird. She asked if Salem was with me.” I cover her with the comforter and then head back to my side of the bed.
“Yeah…I knew you were coming, so I wanted to wait to tell you in person. He came by and hung out with us.”
The hair on the back of my neck stands up. “What do you mean he came by?”
“When we hung out that time after his game, I told him about the surgery. He asked what my favorite cake was and said he would visit me. And he kept his word.”
“Was Carter here?”
“No,” she says softly. “Don’t worry. It was just me and Mom.”
He came by?
“Why would he do that if he’s done with me?” I wonder aloud.
She reaches for her phone, and a few seconds later, she holds up a photo of the cake.
“Wow.”
“Look.” She swipes to the next picture, and I smile.
She’s making a kissy face with the cake crown on her head. Mom is in the background, laughing.
And when I think I couldn’t love him more.
She swipes again. He’s bent down next to her, arms slung over her shoulders, and they’re making matching silly faces.
He was here in this very room a few days ago.
“Aww, babe,” she says, lowering the phone. “You look like you’re gonna cry.”
“How long did he stay?”
“A couple of hours.”
“What day?”
“Uh…” She squints, pursing her lips. “Three, maybe four, days ago.”
My head flinches back. “Wait. What day of the week?”
Her eyes roll toward the ceiling. “Friday? No. Thursday?”
I pick up her phone, google Salem and Lucien, ignoring the stab in my gut at the images of them kissing, and scan the date.
I show her the kiss. “So he was here, then went on his date?”
Her mouth dips at the corners. “Yeah…I don’t know, Arnie. He is definitely not over you. He said this thing that when you got into it with those jerks at the game, he would have fought all the security in the building to protect you. Something like, if you come for his…”
I slouch and blow out a breath. “I feel like my head is gonna explode.” Or maybe my heart .
“That’s ’cause you love him.”
“I keep thinking about how I ran from him. And knowing what I know about him now, he’s way bigger of a person than me. I’m not sure I’d have had the confidence to keep pursuing him if the shoe were on the other foot.”
She leans her head against my shoulder. “I know. But you aren’t him. There are reasons you run. Just like there are reasons Alfie doesn’t trust most strangers.”
I close my eyes to curb the burn. “Sometimes I think you’re the only person who will ever know me. Like really know me.”
“Hmm.” She’s quiet for a few breaths. “Maybe I’m the only person you feel safe knowing you. You remember the time we got lost on the way back to that resort in the Dominican Republic?”
“Hmm?”
“When you were young.”
Then she was young too. We’re only four years apart.
“We got lost on the way back to the resort. And you stopped walking and said, ‘Where is everyone?’ And you tightened your hold on my hand. Mom and Carter were supposed to come back for us, but the beach cleared out, the sun set, and they still hadn’t returned.”
A faint memory surfaces. “The lizard with the aqua and green stripes?”
She huffs out a hoarse laugh. “Yes, you remember. Right before that, though, when I was trying to hide how terrified I was that we were lost, I told you not to worry because Mom and Carter would find us. And you remember what you said?”
I shake my head.
“You said they wouldn’t find us because they wouldn’t even know we were missing. You were so young to?—”
“It’s okay,” I tell her, even as the memory from that day curls in, tightening my throat.
“I hated crying back then because I needed to be strong for us, but when you ran off to chase the lizard, I broke. I kept thinking you deserved better. You weren’t even seven, and you already had a broken heart.”
Pressure builds behind my eyes as her voice cracks.
“Ana?s—”
“Just let me finish. I think your heart is still broken. And you hide it in random hookups and ball. I think if it weren’t broken, you’d see what I see. That there’s no one more deserving of love than you.”
My fingers dig into my arm as a bubble grows in my throat.
“I know it hurts, but you need to hear this. I’m honored to be the one who knows you the best, and I will always be that for you, but there’s someone else who also wants to know you. Who’s also worthy of love. He sat right there the other day with a hurt heart too.”
I screw my eyes closed. “I can’t?—”
The thought of him hurting…
My hand covers my mouth.
“Shhh.” She wipes my tears. “It’s okay.”
I shake my head. “I really didn’t want to hurt him.”
“You can’t always avoid hurting the people you love.”
I look toward the window, but all I see is his smile that first time he approached me on the court all those years ago, filled with so much hope.
Hope that terrified me.
How do people do this—live with hurting the people they love?
I never even told him I love him.
Does he know?
“I need his address,” I say.
“Why do you think I waited to tell you when you were here?” she says.
I lean down and kiss her forehead. She still wipes my tears before her own. I drag the arm of my hoodie down and clean her up.
“You know you kept me alive,” I tell her.
“I didn’t?—”
“You did. When they ran off Ms. Brown, all I had was you. When I look back, I see how much pain you were in, too, and no one…” My voice catches.
“Arnaz.” She shifts to face me. “You gave me purpose. You were the only light in our house.” I shake my head, but she holds my chin. “You were the Only. Light. And I saw how that light dimmed every day, and I would have given everything to stop it.”
“But it wasn’t your job,” I insist.
“I don’t care. You were more mine than theirs. I was lonely before you came along. Can you imagine if it were just me in their house?”
Oh god.
“Yeah.” She breaks into a wet laugh, making me laugh too. “Horrific.”
I get an alert that the food is arriving. I wipe my eyes on my hoodie as she reaches for a tissue and blows her nose.
“I’ll be back,” I tell her as I rise.
She nods and directs me to the staircase, as if sensing my dread at being cornered in an elevator with him .
Food in hand, I’m closing the front door when I hear, “Arnaz, can we please talk?”
“Christ!”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Right. ’Cause sneak attacks aren’t his specialty.
I make my way toward the staircase.
“I forgot to grab plates.”
“They gave us utensils?” Ana?s asks.
I place the bag down on the coffee table and rummage through it. “Yeah.”
“Then we’re good.”
She’s biting into the drunken noodles when I ask, “Did Salem share an update about his brother?”
She swallows. “You heard about Mexico?”
I shake my head as I scoop up the curry.
“He was seen crossing the border into Mexico.”
“Mexico?”
“Yeah. Salem found it odd, too, but it’s something.”
“Hmm.”
“Yeah.”
“I want to be there for him.”
“Then go to him. Show him the Arnie I know. The kid who would stay up all night with me in the ER when I had flare-ups. It’s time to go all in. Isn’t it?”
Yeah. Past time.