Her Bex
“Whatever we decide to order—and, let me be clear, it will be biryani from the kabob house in Little Bangladesh—I insist you change into clothes as soon as we get inside the house.” Sam watched Bex punch in numbers and lay her fingerprint on the secure entry keypad.
“I am wearing clothes,” Bex said. “Which I will continue to wear while we eat chicken and waffles from Roscoe’s.” She yanked at her leather shorts and pushed open the door.
They entered the cool of the tiled foyer. Sam took Bex’s hand and pulled her into a dim corner, where she leaned down and whispered into her ear. “You and I both know this outrageous outfit is not clothing. It’s a honey trap you set for me.”
Bex draped her arms over Sam’s shoulders, gazing up at her. “Is that what you think?”
Sam slid her hand down Bex’s side, her lower belly going tight when she felt the combination of skin and silk against her palm. “It’s what I know.” She dipped down to kiss Bex’s neck, punctuating the kiss with a small bite that made Bex sigh satisfyingly against her shoulder.
“I mean, if you want me to get undressed,” Bex loud-whispered, “I’m not sure why I would put clothes back—goddamnit!” Bex dropped her arms from around Sam’s shoulders and hunched over her shorts. “The fucking zipper broke.”
Sam looked. Bex was holding her shorts on with a fist while they peeled away from her hips like a wrinkled and spent cocoon. “Oh, no.” She started laughing.
Bex’s angry dimple came out, but her eyes were bright with amusement at her predicament. “This is your fault.”
Sam lifted one eyebrow, just to provoke her.
“I would have never worn this ridiculous garment that I can’t breathe or move my legs in with this blouse”—Bex pinched the silk and yanked it with irritation—“that wants to reveal my side boob to God and country, if you weren’t you.”
“If I weren’t … ?”
“The one that I want,” Bex clarified primly.
“I’m going to step out of these torture devices Yves Saint Laurent calls shoes, and you’re going to pick them up and follow me to my bedroom, where I will change into some real clothes that will fit even after I eat my enormous dinner from Roscoe’s.
After which I will remove my clothes again and have you for dessert. ”
Still laughing, Sam kissed Bex one last time, then bent over and picked up Bex’s sandals. She followed along as Bex minced into the big living area holding up the shorts, only to stop at the sight of Frankie, Haris, Vic, and Fergus lounging in various poses on the massive sectional.
“Ms. Simon!” Haris jumped up and ran his hand over his hair. “I’m so sorry. Frankie invited me over, but if it’s too much trouble for me to be here, I can—”
Bex held up her palm. “At ease, Haris.”
“We’re doing family,” Vic said, unbothered. “There’s huge containers of biryani from the kabob house in the kitchen if you want to get a plate and join us.”
“No.” Bex glowered at Vic. “I’m on my way to get changed, and then we’re having Roscoe’s.” She waddled to the back of the house and disappeared down the hall that led to her bedroom.
“I might have some biryani,” Sam said. Following Bex to her bedroom was frustratingly off the table. “Carry on.”
“I’ll come with.” Vic got up, shedding at least three soft blankets and a hoodie she’d had on backward. “I need chocolate milk.”
In the kitchen, Sam fixed herself a bowl heaped with lamb and rice and bread while Vic leaned against the counter and drank chocolate milk.
It reminded Sam of when she’d impulsively taken Bex and her sisters to an all-inclusive resort in the Caribbean for spring break.
She cherished a mental snapshot of Vic on that trip, wearing huge sunnies and a metallic swimsuit, calling Sam’s name to get her to look right before she cannonballed into the resort pool.
Family time.
“I can’t remember when I last ate a real meal,” Sam said before shoveling a bite into her mouth. “This is exactly what I wanted.”
“Then why did Bex say you were having Roscoe’s?”
“She wants chicken and waffles.” Sam tore off a chunk of garlic naan and folded rice into it. “We were debating when we walked in.”
“Ah.” Vic sighed. “Sam?”
“Vic.”
“I’m glad you and Bex is finally happening.
You make my sister happy. You always have, but I like knowing that now you always will.
I know I play the girl who doesn’t want to leave home, and that’s partly true I admit, but also?
I don’t want Bex to be alone. I can’t think of her alone when she’s done so much for me and Frankie.
I know I drive her up the wall, but I also know I wouldn’t have the life that I have without her, and it’s such a good life. Please give Bex an amazing life.”
Sam swallowed her food, tears in her eyes. “That is my whole plan for my life, actually. To give Bex and me an amazing one. And to watch you and Frankie have amazing lives, too.”
“Frankie’s getting it done. Haris is a peach. She quit the job everyone wanted her to feel lucky to have and did the scary theater internship in New York, and the Geffen here in L.A. has already called her, begging for her genius. She seems almost mellow. It’s disconcerting. In a good way.”
“Whoa.” Fergus stopped at the entrance to the kitchen. “There is a strong emotional vibe. I wasn’t here. Carry on.”
“We’ve completed our family talk, Ferg.” Vic nodded at Sam. “She’s all yours. Sam?”
“Yeah?”
“You have rice on your face.” Vic pointed.
Sam laughed, wiping at her cheek. “Thank you, and I love you.”
“To the moon and back.” Vic smiled. “That’s what Bex always told us. She said it’s what Dad used to say.”
With that, she left, and Fergus came all the way into the kitchen. “Is there still enough food left for me to grab some more?” He was eyeing the biryani. “I underestimated my appetite.”
“Help yourself.”
He fixed himself a bowl and sat down next to Sam. “I’m going to head out tomorrow morning. I found a buyer for my house. I need to get back to Oregon and start packing up.”
“Oh. That was fast.” In the week Sam had spent in police interview rooms and corseted on a soundstage, her brother had closed on the commercial space he wanted in Malibu. He’d been looking at apartments with an agent. “Did you find a place to rent?”
“No, but I was thinking. What if I bought your place?”
Sam stopped with her fork halfway to her mouth to stare at her brother. “Where do I live in this scenario?”
“In this scenario, we’re roommates until the inevitable.”
The inevitable. Sam was quietly thrilled, but she also felt her face turning red, because this was her brother. “Okay.”
“Are you okay?” Fergus’s brow was wrinkled in confusion.
“You can buy my house. Please don’t say anything until I have a chance to tell Bex about the inevitable.”
“Baller.” Fergus put down his fork and held out his knuckles for her to bump. “I already hired a contractor to put in surfboard storage and a workbench for my bikes in your garage.”
Sam rolled her eyes. “Make yourself at home.”
But that was it, wasn’t it? He was making himself a home. Here. A ten-minute walk away from where hoped she would be, making Bex happy.
She ate more of her food, laughing at her brother’s jokes because he liked that, and then heard Bex roar with laughter in the living room. “Hey, did you walk here?” Sam asked Fergus. “Because if you did, you should take my car back to the house when you leave. Didn’t you say you were leaving now?”
He waggled his eyebrows.
“Shut the fuck up,” Sam said pleasantly. “My keys are in my bag hanging in the foyer.”
Her brother made his way out, and Sam returned to the living room, where Bex had sunk into the only unoccupied portion left on the sectional.
“Bex gave my new boyfriend the third degree.” Frankie put her hand on Haris’s chest and mooned at him. Sam had never seen Frankie do that in her entire life, unless it was at a new piece of lighting equipment. “He did so well.”
Haris smiled down at her. Vic was right. It was good to see.
“All of you are young and pretty,” Sam said. “Aren’t you supposed to be out having experiences? It’s a beautiful evening. A brand-new, fresh summer. Get your passports and drive to Tijuana. Go camping at Joshua Tree.”
“You don’t want us here,” Vic said.
“I do not.”
“She doesn’t mean that.” Bex sat up. “Look, Vic, I want you to know that I love spending time with you. I need to work on not lashing out when I’m upset. If you want to be here, you can be here, it’s not—”
Vic laughed. “Oh my God. I know. Anyway, Haris and Frankie already told me they would go with me to Hannah Hearts Cat Rescue. I’m adopting a cat. Then I have a whole bunch of cat stuff to pick up and a catio guy I want to talk to.”
“You’re adopting a cat?” Bex crossed her arms. “You didn’t talk to me about this. You understand that you have to take care of this cat. I’m not going to deal with a litter box, and neither is Olive. It’s a lot of responsi—”
“Let me interrupt you again before you ruin your previous speech about how desperately you love me and want to hang out with me. I don’t know if any of you have noticed, but I am prevet.
Also, Bexley? Frankie and Haris are moving in together, and you and Sam aren’t here much.
It’s lonely. You’re lucky I’m only getting one cat. ”
Bex rolled her lips in.
Sam understood. Doing family wasn’t easy, but it was worth it. “Good for you, taking care of your needs,” she said. “I can’t wait to meet this new member of the household. Tomorrow. And spend quality time with Haris. Also tomorrow. Frankie? Congratulations. You must have a lot to do.”
“What, you have some needs of your own to take care of?” Vic asked with a grin. “Someone—sorry, some stuff that you need to do?”
“Goodbye,” Bex said. “Get out.”
They left.
It was heaven.
Bex had changed into leggings and a cut-out-neckline T-shirt with Frankie’s junior high school basketball team mascot on it. Sam squeezed in beside her, crossing her legs and leaning back into the soft cushions, feeling better than she had for … six and a half months.