Chapter Twenty
DECRYPTING LANE
Lane left the treatment facility feeling wrung out, but strangely lighter.
She wasn't suddenly ready to braid Jeanette’s hair and call her Mama in public while letting the past sit at their table like it hadn’t burned the house down.
It was the type of lighter that came after crying hard enough to make space in the body.
When Lane finally pulled out of the facility’s long driveway with her mother’s signed onboarding paperwork in the passenger seat, the sun was dipping low behind the trees.
“Whew,” she whispered to herself, “Absolutely not. We are not crying at a stoplight like somebody’s auntie in a Tyler Perry movie.”
Her reflection in the rearview mirror looked unconvinced at the last statement.
She’d planned to grab dinner for herself and Lennox since he was working late, thinking of something flavorful and comforting.
Her favorite Mediterranean spot was only fifteen minutes away.
She and Lennox would discuss her emotions with Jeanette over lamb kabobs with garlic sauce, warm pita, and roasted potatoes.
Speaking of Lennox, he’d texted her twice throughout the day, and both times were vague enough to annoy her.
Robot : Busy day. Putting out a bunch of little fires for KC, don’t worry I’m not breaking any laws.
Which was exactly the kind of text that made a woman like Lane worry.
Then again, Lennox telling her not to worry was progress, because old Lennox would’ve simply handled whatever crisis had crawled out of hell, buried the evidence, and then shown up with dinner and a kiss, proving that felonious problem-solving was his love language.
They’d gotten to a place where Lennox asked and communicated.
In the past, he had never been accountable to a woman, but Lane was bringing out the grown man in him.
Lane pulled into the restaurant’s parking lot and found a spot near the entrance when her phone buzzed in the cup holder.
Lennox’s name lit up the screen, making her heart do that annoying thing it had started doing lately, which was softening before she even read what he said.
Robot : Meet me at The Full Plate Project. It’s important.
Lane stared at the message, causing the softness to dissipate.
What could be so important there that she didn’t know about it?
Her mind immediately sprinted toward disaster.
Had there been a fire or a break-in? Did Curtis Bell somehow crawl out of whatever hole Lennox had scared him into attempting one last act of villainy?
“Oh no,” Lane muttered.
She threw the car in reverse so fast the backup camera barely had time to wake up, letting the restaurant disappear behind her as she pulled out the same driveway she’d just entered with one hand already calling Lennox. Being sent to voicemail was only making her spiral more.
“Lennox Jackson, you sent me a cryptic text and let my call go to voicemail. I’m prepared to make cussin’ yo ass out my hobby for the next week,” she said as she left the irate voicemail.
Lane channeled her inner Nancy Downs, driving like traffic lights were under her control.
By the time she pulled into The Full Plate Project’s parking lot, her pulse was everywhere, and her eyes swept the parking lot.
She didn’t see any emergency vehicles, no crowds, just cars that belonged to her friends parked near the side entrance.
Lane sat there for half a second, gripping the wheel.
“What the hell?” she asked, audibly frustrated.
If this was some kind of emergency, why did it look like a group project?
She got out, leaving her mother’s folder on the seat because her brain had no room for paperwork; she needed to know what was so important.
The front door was unlocked, which only irritated her more because they had procedures for locking up at closing.
She stepped inside, expecting noise, but was met with a quiet, dark lobby with just enough light to show there was no danger.
“Lennox,” she called with no answer, making way for her irritation to rise high enough to hold hands with fear.
“Robot, I know you hear me,” she fussed, and still nothing.
Lane pulled out her phone, ready to call him again and threaten the entire Jackson bloodline. Before she could dial him, she noticed a faint glow coming from the direction of the conference area. Lane walked toward it slowly, ready to read him the riot act.
“Lennox, I swear to God,” she muttered, hand finding the wall switch near the doorway.
She turned on the lights and froze. The room was in bloom; that was the only way to describe it, and even that didn’t do what was in front of her justice.
Purple roses and lavender covered every table, windowsill, and corner of the conference room.
It wasn’t gaudy or cluttered, but a beautiful and intentional display of love.
Candles flickered safely in glass holders, casting soft lighting across the room.
A narrow aisle had been formed between the tables, leading to the front where a glowing sign stood against a backdrop of flowers.
WILL YOU BE MINE?
Lennox stood next to the sign. Nova stood to off to the side with both hands pressed to her mouth, already crying because she had the emotional restraint of a church soloist at a homegoing.
Cadence sat in a chair near KC, one hand on her belly, glowing with a happiness that made Lane melt.
KC stood behind her with a proud smile and one hand resting on his wife’s shoulder.
Tariq held a box of tissues in one hand and a bottle of sparkling cider in the other like he had accepted his role as both fool and usher.
Lane looked back at Lennox. “You said it was important,” she whispered.
“It is,” he told her.
“I thought something happened,” she told him.
“Something did. Come here, Lavender,” he requested with his hand out.
Lane should’ve cursed him out for scaring her and let him know he was one vague text away from getting his SUV turned into a wind chime.
Should’ve rolled her eyes at the way he stood there in all black with his handsome face filled with seriousness and those alluring eyes that were asking her to choose softness in front of witnesses.
Instead, she walked to him on legs that felt like jello, but they continued to move.
Every step carried her past pieces of herself.
The conference table where she had negotiated food deliveries during storms. The wall where they taped up pantry expansion plans.
The chairs where patrons turned volunteers cried during orientation because they were told that needing help didn’t disqualify them from giving it.
This was her dream made real, her answer to hunger, and her proof that surviving wasn’t the end of the story. Lennox stood at the front of it waiting for her with his hand out as she placed hers in his, exhaling when his fingers closed around hers gently.
“You scared me,” she said, voice syrupy sweet, scaring even herself, “I was about to commit several traffic crimes.”
“I needed urgent Lane,” he chuckled.
“Robot,” she said sternly.
His mouth twitched, but his eyes stayed soft. “I’m sorry, Baby,” he told her sincerely.
“You should be.”
He pulled her to him and kissed her passionately. When Lennox pulled back, Lane knew she had a smile on her face that said she was love drunk and didn’t care.
She looked at the sign again because looking at him was becoming dangerous. “What is this?” She asked playfully.
Lennox stepped closer, still holding her hand. “This is me asking,” he said, inhaling deeply to keep his composure; for once, the great Lennox Jackson looked nervous.
That did more to Lane than the flowers.
“I’ve spent most of my life believing love was something people used against each other.
I watched my father turn marriage into a power structure, while my mother shrank inside a life that looked beautiful from the outside.
I told myself I was smarter than that and if I never belonged to one woman, I’d never become the kind of man who could hurt her the way he hurt my mother,” speaking from his heart as his thumb moved over the back of her hand.
“Then you came into my life, and you made every excuse I had look small.”
Nova was sniffling as she cried, causing Tariq to whisper, “Already Nov?”
KC hushed them both as Lennox continued professing his love to Lane.
“I was careless with you at first because I was arrogant. I let my fear of falling for you dress itself up as ego, bringing hurt to you. You had every reason to walk away from me and keep walking, but you didn’t.
You cussed me out and threatened me. You even stole several important pieces of my car, but you held me accountable for how I was showing up in your life.
Once I started getting my shit together, you let me learn you. ”
“Art,” Tariq added.
Cadence whispered, “Tariq.”
Lane pressed her lips together as he brought her hand to his chest, right over his heart.
“You opened up and allowed me to see the parts of you others mishandled. You let me hold you when you broke, letting me witness your softness without treating it like a weakness. You made space for me to stand beside you while you keep living your dreams, and that matters to me more than you know,” he let her know.
Lane’s tears finally won as they cascaded down her face and Lennox’s own eyes shone, though his voice stayed steady.
“I don’t want to be a man who owns you, Lane.
I’m trying to be a man who honors the fact that you choose me.
I want to be where you rest when the world asks too much of you.
I need to be the person you call whether you’re scared or need love and everything in between,” he joked as a laugh broke through Lane’s tears.
“That does happen,” she whispered.
“I know. I’ve logged your patterns,” he let her know, making everyone laugh.
“Robot,” Lane said, blushing.