Chapter 45
[Taxi]
I’m beside myself. The worry. The panic. The fear. My heart races.
“Where could you be?” I say aloud, scanning the side of the road as best I can while paying attention to the road itself. I’m hardly going the speed limit, and a few annoyed drivers have given me the one-finger salute or a long horn honk.
I ignore all of them, my focus solely on finding Simon.
“Come on, buddy,” I whimper, like he can hear me. Like he knows he has everyone concerned.
Trudy . . . oh, God, I can’t even think about Trudy right now. The mess she’ll be if something has happened to Simon.
“Stop it, Taxi,” I scold myself, taking the warning to not let my imagination get the best of me.
Instead, I beat myself up for suggesting that Simon should not be with her. Who else could love him like she does? Of course, I can love him. And Judd and Genie love him, but Trudy’s love is just different. It cannot be replicated. Her love is unique.
Just like Stone’s.
Next, I berate myself for leaving him last night.
It wasn’t like I slipped out the door, but we didn’t actually have a warm fuzzy goodbye.
Not like the hour earlier, when he gave me another mind-blowing orgasm on the dining room table and then took me to his room, worshipping me the way only Stone ever has.
I curse. “Get yourself together, Tallulah Alexander.”
Everything I’ve ever wanted is right here, and it can be shattered in an instant. The situation with Simon is reminding me that a person can be gone in minutes. Lost to you forever. Like Mama. Like Sedona and Jolene’s daddy. Like Stone’s parents.
I don’t want to be broken anymore.
Messy pieces can still be put back together again. For some reason, I think of that Japanese art where pottery is created from bits and pieces. Golden joinery. Kintsugi.
Mural paintings are similar. The staggard bricks are the canvas. The connecting of angles and edges linking together, creating a final, beautiful artwork.
I want that image to be family. My family. The family I make with Trudy, Simon, and Stone, bleeding outward and blending with his large family, and hopefully, one day, maybe bringing back my sisters.
“And I want a backyard,” I blurt as if my Gloria will answer. She’s been a good listener over the years, having traveled miles and miles with me. But I’m ready for something real, something concrete, something solid as a stone to hear my story.
The ups and downs. The silvers and golds. The black and white. And all the colors in between.
Beige comes to mind. A color I typically consider bland and boring has become one of my favorite shades on the color wheel.
The hue of Stone.
And once we find Simon, because we will find Simon, dammit, I’m going to tell Stone how I feel. No more holding back. No restrictions or pauses.
Plot twist.
I love him.
And I want to start building on that love as soon as I tell him.
My phone rings as if Stone knows I’ve been thinking of him. I answer breathlessly.
“Yes,” I say, hopeful, expectant.
Stone’s voice rings through the phone. “I found him.”
Oh, thank God.