14. Ghosts And Second Chances
I ’m off early, but I don’t sit still. The second I’m home, I start moving around the apartment like someone’s coming over—folding laundry, cleaning the kitchen, mopping floors, and wiping the streaks from the bathroom mirror.
I even shave. Not that it’s needed, but the ritual calms me.
Clean lines. Fresh start. All of this has nothing to do with meeting Kevin to swim tomorrow, of course.
Sunlight filters through the oak leaves outside my window, casting flickering shadows across the floor as I mop, like ripples scattering light across the bottom of a pool when I stir the water with my brush.
I clip my nails and toss the trimmings. Change shirts twice.
Stupid, I know. I’m not going anywhere. Not tonight, anyway.
A knock at the door—two firm raps.
Unlocking it reveals Naomi, one brow raised, as if she just caught me doing something I shouldn’t.
“Nice move with the phone cord yesterday, asshole.”
“What?” I blink. No clue what she’s talking about.
“You ready to eat?” she asks, stepping inside without waiting.
“Gimme one second,” I say, grabbing my shoes. She takes a slow look around the place—clocks the clean counters and the fresh shirt—but doesn’t say a word .
It’s thick outside. Summer buzzes from every tree, and the sidewalk feels sticky under our shoes.
Naomi is wearing a tank top and a long, flowing skirt that moves like sails catching the heat.
We pass the playground, the stone pavilion, and the art students sketching on benches as we head toward Pete’s.
It’s one of Naomi’s go-to restaurants, probably her favorite, where she can eat healthy and people-watch from their covered outdoor patio.
The patio is half full, and overhead fans oscillate above our table to cut the heat. The iced teas arrive quickly, their glasses already sweating, with lemon slices floating like lazy pieces of the sun.
Naomi takes one sip, then cuts her eyes at me. “So. Who were you on the phone with last night?”
I nearly choke on my drink. “Jesus. Did you listen to the wall with a glass to your ear?”
“Nope. Just heard your dumbass whispering like a spy sneaking state secrets. So who was it?”
I shrug. “Nobody.”
She leans forward. “So nobody has a name now?”
“It was just a call. Someone I used to know.”
She narrows her eyes. “Someone, or the someone from last week?”
The spoon clinks against ice as I stir my tea. “You sound like my mom.”
Naomi smirks. “Please. Your mama would be glad you’re talking to someone who doesn’t live in your pants.
But I’m not your mama, baby. I’m the one who has to clean you up when this goes sideways.
I’m just trying to figure out why you’re acting like a teenager sneaking out the window.
You normally drag guys in and spit ’em out like chicken bones once you’ve had your fill. ”
“Come on. It’s not like that.”
She lets it sit a beat. “You’ve been different since that brunch. Quiet, but jittery, like you got static under your skin. Now, suddenly, you’ve got electricity flowing between your fingers, cleaning your place up like the Queen of England herself is about to visit. Ever since that phone call.”
I sigh and sit back, then offer her a bone. “We ran into each other. We’re catching up. It’s not a big deal.”
Naomi studies me over the rim of her glass. “Yeah, I knew it.” She leans back, not angry but weary of watching this story unfold. “Baby, I don’t care who he is—if you’ve gotta hide him, that’s not love. That’s a warning.”
The air between us shifts. It’s not heavy yet, but it cools. Naomi knows. She doesn’t say his name, but she knows.
“You’re gonna do what you’re gonna do,” she adds. “Just don’t pretend like I didn’t warn you.”
We eat in pieces. I push my fries around the plate more than I eat them. Naomi talks about a client who tipped her with coupons. I laugh where I’m supposed to. Then we sit quietly again.
Mateo shows up near the end, dressed in what he’ll wear to tend bar tonight and with an easy grin that makes strangers stare. He kisses Naomi’s cheek before sliding into the chair between us.
She looks directly at Mateo and blurts out, “Did you know Daniel is talking to that guy from Bayview again? Have you been encouraging him?”
Mateo hasn’t hit his seat yet, his hands grasping the arms of his chair as if considering whether he should sit or walk away now. He glances my way as if looking for the answer.
“Ummm,” he begins to speak, “what are we discussing? ”
“You know damn well what we’re talking about,” she barks back as if it’s all his fault.
“Our boy here is trading truth for a fantasy—that Kevin guy from the past. And he knows the guy has a boyfriend.” She turns to look at me again.
“Nope, not me. Ghosts don’t haunt; they seduce.
I’ve seen this movie before, baby child. You won’t like the ending.”
“Well,” Mateo says, fanning himself with the menu, “aren’t we a moody little picnic this evening?”
Naomi gives him a look. “It’s the heat.”
“Sure,” he says, eyes flicking between us. “Nothing sizzles like shade.”
We laugh, but mine feels off. Naomi’s already halfway home in her head.
When we leave, she doesn’t loop her arm through mine like usual. We walk side by side, but it feels like we’re already back in our separate apartments. We reach her door, and she pauses.
“Look, baby,” Naomi says calmly, “just make sure you’re not calling a ghost a second chance. You’ll be disappointed and get hurt. Call if you need anything.”
I nod as the key turns in the lock. “But I’ll need to borrow your phone to call you,” smiling for levity.
“Jerk,” I hear as she steps into 3C and shuts the door.
I stand in my entryway, staring at the closed door between us.
I haven’t told her everything: about our past together and our plans to meet tomorrow. I don’t dare.
But I’m starting to think she already knows. And the thing is—if she’s right, I won’t be able to say I didn’t see it coming.