Chapter 13 #2
“Plus,” she says, rummaging through her bag before finding a bowl, lighter, and fancy tin filled with what I can only imagine is the finest Kush, “I cannot go a minute longer without hearing every single fucking detail about you and Storm Sandoval’s reunion.”
It feels like I have heartburn, and I smack my lips in distaste.
“Girl, the kids are here,” I hiss, and she turns in a circle, looking around.
“The little bits are asleep, right? Some moms do the wine thing. Some moms toke. It’s all good, I promise, Shae,” she says, and knowing there will be no stopping her, I lead her to my room and close the door.
“There’s not really much to say,” I reply, even though it’s a lie.
I don’t know why I’m keeping everything Storm told me away from Yenn.
It’s not like I won’t need her help to untangle this mess—hers and very likely her brother’s.
But instinct tells me to keep things closer to my chest until I’ve got it all figured out.
She boops me on the nose with the curved end of her glass smoking pipe.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” she replies. I roll my eyes.
Yenn swings open the trendy French doors and plops into one of the reclining chairs overlooking the rose garden. In the distance, just barely visible beyond the treetops, the gilded rooftops of Versailles glint under the moonlight.
I sit in the chair opposite her and stare at the distant forest.
“So,” Yenn says, using the butt of the lighter to pack in the weed. “Your baby daddy has decided to show up. What did he have to say for himself?”
I don’t look away from the trees for a long minute, stalling. When I give her my attention, I say, “Isn’t weed illegal in France?”
Yennifer shrugs.
“Babe, it wouldn’t be called ouid if it wasn’t okay in le France ,” she says, adding an accent and emphasis on the final vowel.
“I don’t think that’s correct, and also, be careful because my ass is not rolling with you if you end up on an episode of Locked Up Abroad .”
Yennifer snickers and flicks the lighter to get a flame going. Drawing in the smoke deeply, I watch the rings she releases into the air disappear into nothingness.
“Your turn,” she says, handing the bowl and lighter to me.
God, when was the last time I smoked? Definitely in college, right before I found out about the twins.
That thought has me grimacing—not at the fact that the babies exist, but at how goddamn naive I was thinking I was ever in love with Storm Sandoval.
With a good pull drawn into my lungs, I feel the instant wash of calm come over me.
“Thanks,” I say on an exhale. “Oui, c’est très bon ouid .”
I laugh at my corny ass joke and mangled French, but Yennifer just smiles.
“So…is he still hot?”
“Yennifer!” I shout, choking on my next pull. “You’re nuts. I wasn’t looking at him like that.”
Yennifer sucks her teeth and says, “Girl, be so fucking for real. He was fine as fuck back in college. Now that he’s got some hair on his chest? Is he giving Daddy vibes?”
I jerk at that. Daddy. Storm’s a dad, and he didn’t even care.
“No, I wasn’t looking at him like that. He…he pisses me off so much. When he came to my condo last night?—”
“Wait a goddamn minute!” Yennifer shouts, snatching the pipe out of my hand. “He went to your condo last night? Bitch, you did not tell me that. Was it after our call?”
I wince.
“Yeah…?” I rasp, really not wanting to go down this road…the road that leads to me telling Yennifer that I let—no, demanded—my baby daddy finger me against the wall.
Talk about fucking toxic.
“Shae Olivya Rivers, tell me what happened last night. And before you say, ‘Nothing happened, Yenn!’ please remember that I have known you your entire life, and I know when you’re lying.”
“Ugh!” I groan, dropping my head into my hands.
“We had words. They were heated words. But he left maybe fifteen minutes after he arrived, so that was that.”
“And did he?” Yennifer asks.
“Did he what?”
“ Arrive. ”
I choke on my spit, coughing so hard my throat burns.
“Jesus, Shae. Don’t die on me,” Yennifer mutters.
“Yeah,” I say, my voice sounding like Marge Simpson. “Please change the subject. There’s nothing more to say about last night’s discussion.”
Yennifer looks at me with the weed an inch from her mouth for several seconds. Then, she shrugs, pulls in a hit, and passes it back to me.
“What did he say about the kids? Did he apologize at all?” she asks, not letting the topic of Storm go.
I sigh and hand the bowl back over to her, but she shakes her head.
“Take another hit,” she demands, and because I’ve been so damn stressed out over the last forty-eight hours, I do so.
“He didn’t mention them,” I reply, holding in the smoke while I speak and then releasing it.
Yennifer tilts her head to the side after I speak, taking the bowl and lighter without looking at the items.
“What do you mean?” Her brows furrow.
“I mean,” I say, crossing my legs to fold them beneath me. I wish I had a blanket, even though it’s humid outside. “He didn’t mention anything about the kids. He was all business.”
Her eyebrows go up at that and stay there for several heartbeats before she says, “Wow. That’s weird,” and takes another hit.
“The asshole’s been gone for eight years without once acknowledging them or asking to speak to or see them. Why would things be different now?”
Yennifer nods slowly, tamping the bud down with the edge of her lighter.
“What aren’t you saying, Yenn?” I murmur, leaning into the pillows behind me.
She continues to nod, lighting another bowl and drawing in the smoke deep. When she exhales, she says, “Do you have theories as to why he didn’t ask about them?”
I blink at her.
“Besides the fact he’s simply not a good person?” I throw out.
She shakes her head hard.
“No. Real reasons why,” she presses.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask, sitting up and regretting the movement because my head spins from just a few hits. It’s clearly been too long, and Yennifer’s stuff is too strong.
“Are you sure he knows about them, Shae?”
My eyes narrow as I stare at her, and a cold sense of irritation fills me at her completely serious expression.
“What the fuck are you talking about, Yennifer?”
She sighs, scooting to the edge of her chair to face me more clearly. She puts the smoke set next to her thigh on the seat.
“I’m talking about it makes zero sense for this man to be up in your face without acknowledging the two big ass elephants in the room.” My throat starts to tighten.
“He could just be that bold,” I say.
“Or he could just be that blind,” she retorts.
I put my head in my hands, groaning.
“Yennifer, I called him. I called him over and over, left the information on his fucking voicemail. It wasn’t like the phone line had been disconnected. The message still routed to Storm. How could he not know?”
This is Storm, leave a message at the beep. Peace.
That was the recorded note before the long tone I started hearing in my sleep after the twins were born.
“Let’s set aside the emotion. Do you really think a man as family-oriented as Storm Sandoval would just…
brush off having not one but two children out in the world?
Hear me clearly: I still think he’s a fuck-nigga for what he did to you.
However, even if his feelings for you changed, do you think he’s the type of man who’d do that? ”
Hot tears line my lower eyelids, but I refuse to let them fall, so instead I look back out to the tree line, focusing on the inky darkness beyond the manicured, vacant garden below.
“I don’t know him at all. Never did,” I offer, controlling my breath.
Yennifer goes silent again, and when I muster the strength to look at her and not start crying, I only make it a few seconds before I have to look away again.
The trees. Be like the trees.
“I feel that,” Yenn murmurs. “Anyhoo, what’s a girl gotta do to tag along to the Palace with the crew? You know I miss my babies, and look at how fortuitous it is that the Universe thought it good to bring us together near the City of Love?”
She throws her arms out, inhaling and exhaling dramatically.
I chuckle, releasing the energy of our conversation.
“You already know you’re coming, you’re already hired to help with the little hellions,” I reply.
She smiles.
“Those are my babies,” she croons.
I throw a decorative pillow at her face.