Round Twenty-One #2
“She became the queen consort at first, and when her husband died and their son became king, she helped him rule. But then I guess she got tired of that, because she declared herself king and led her people to prosperity.”
“What happened to the son who was king first?”
“Don’t know. I didn’t get that far.” I press my palms together, lacing my fingers, and stare at the shadows dancing on my skin.
“The story’s really kinda cool, actually.
It’s not so dry when I stop thinking of it as something to learn and start thinking of them as real people.
This chick defied expectations and bowed down to nobody. ”
“She was fierce.” He brings his feet back to the hearth and rests his elbows on his thighs. “Not entirely sure how I got to this point in my life, but I know a lot of fierce women.”
“Your sister?” I swallow. “Alana?”
“And you.” His lips quirk high on one side. “You’re fierce as hell.”
I scoff and swipe my nose. “I’m a basket case. I cried because of spilled cocoa.”
“You picked up a fire poker and prepared to destroy whoever was stomping up the porch steps. Your tears had nothing to do with a book or a coffee mug, Rose. You think I don’t know when you’re lying right to my face?” He bumps my shoulder with his, winks, then he shoves to his feet.
“Come on.” He wraps his hand around my wrist and tugs me up beside him, catching me against his chest, and grinning when my eyes shoot up to his.
“I’m gonna take a shower, because I’ve been to the gym and smell funky.
I made pizza bases earlier, so after I get out, I reckon we could head into the kitchen, pick our toppings, and put them in the oven.
I wanna hear about the new things you remembered while I was away. ”
I frown. “What makes you think I did?”
He crinkles his nose and steps away, dropping my hand as he goes. “You’re a smart woman, and I know you’re working really hard at this. If you remembered something, I wanna hear about it. If you didn’t, then that’s okay, too. You can tell me about Tutankhamun instead.”
“Hatshepsut. She ruled a hundred and fifty years before Tutankhamun.”
“See?” He wanders across the room. “Smart. I’m gonna walk away now, and you’re gonna pretend you’re not stressing about the cocoa incident.
But as soon as I’m out of sight, you’re gonna snatch up the paper towel and scrub, scrub, scrub, because if you leave even a single mark behind, you’ll feel like a monster.
” He scoops his gym bag up and meanders across to the doorway leading into the hall.
“I’ll pretend not to notice, since I know it makes you feel a certain way.
But don’t obsess too much, okay? It’s just cocoa. ”
“It’s a stain on your floor.” I gesture around the beautiful room. “And you’ve already put so much effort into restoring the place. Ruining this is a monstrous act.”
He tips his chin toward the front door. “You see the framing over there?”
I follow his gaze.
“That’s not a standard chunk of wood. It was a log that the guys and I found at the lake.
We hauled it home, peeled it back, cut it to size, because I wanted something special up there.
But when we were putting it up, my friend, Chris, dropped it.
Snapped the damn thing in two. He felt like an asshole.
But ya know what?” He flashes a handsome smile.
“I could’ve had a standard, boring piece of wood up there.
Instead, I get memories. Of the lake. And of my friends.
Of the day of the installation. Of the way Chris felt like shit because he’d screwed up, those words banging through his brain the way his parents kicked them into him when he was a kid, and I got to be the one who reminded him he was worthy anyway.
” He hooks a thumb toward the television.
Or more precisely, the wall behind it. “Back when we were doing the floors, Tommy was getting fussy because back then, he was always in a bad mood. He was picking at me. Picking at his brother. He annoyed me a time too many, got in my way, and ended up with my fist in his face.”
“You punched him?”
He chuckles. “He stumbled backwards, tripped over a paint tin, and fell flat against the wall. Busted the plaster right through, so I ended up with a Tommy-shaped hole in the wall.”
And he doesn’t seem mad about it. Not at all.
“We patched it up together. Sanded. Painted. The TV hides a lot of it now, and unless you know the story, you wouldn’t even notice how, sometimes, when the light is exactly right, you can see the imperfections from where we fixed it up.
Those imperfections make me smile, Rose.
They don’t make me mad.” Finally, he gestures toward my feet.
“If you mark my floors, it’s gonna be okay.
Because a year from now, two years, ten, I’ll stand by the fire and look down at what you left behind.
I’ll smile, because like the nail in my deck outside, that mark will be proof you and I stood right here in this moment, your sad eyes staring into mine, your hands fussing, because you’re a giant ball of nerves.
But even when you’re scared, your soul burns bright enough to mark mine.
That cocoa stain won’t be a flaw. It’ll be a memory for me to hold on to when I’m sitting here all alone and the people I care about are out there,” he gestures toward the front door, “living the lives they busted their asses to earn. If you won’t listen to me about anything else, I beg you to hear this.
Stop expecting perfection in an imperfect world, and stop holding yourself to a standard you think I want, when I never asked for it.
My friends are worthy—Chris and Tommy, and even Cliff, though he annoys me sometimes.
” He taps the hallway doorframe. “You’re my friend, too, and I intend to be first in line to remind you that you matter.
Mop up the cocoa. Don’t mop it up.” He shrugs.
“I don’t care. But don’t mop it up too quickly.
Future-me wants to stand by the fire someday and look down at what you left behind.
” He lowers his hand and strolls into the hall.
“I bet Hashimoto didn’t cry over spilled cocoa. ”
“Her name was Hatshepsut.” I frown at the sound of his footsteps moving further away. “And she probably destroyed any man who deigned to lecture her.”
“You’ve already bested me, Rose.” He opens the bathroom door and crosses from wood flooring to tile. “Slayed me the first time you opened your eyes in the ER. I’ll be out in five minutes.”