Chapter 35 #2
“Out! This instance,” she says, pointing to the door with a shaking hand.
Then something strange happens—Aunt Andrea looks—really looks—seeming to study every single inch of Gil, her eyes stretching across him presumably to look for a seam, a zipper, some proof that what’s in front of her isn’t real.
And for a moment it’s like 12-year-old Marina is at the forefront of my mind. The girl who was desperate to say, “I told you so” finally able to prove that her stories have always been reality. I’ve never been a liar.
“You—you can’t be—” Aunt Andrea’s face twists in horror. She moves, cowering behind the desk. And with almost cosmically perfect timing, Jenna strides into the office, completely oblivious.
“Why isn’t anyone out—” she begins, then screams, jumping into the air as Clawrece snaps her jaw. I don’t even try to suppress my laughter.
Within seconds, she’s pressed herself against the wall. And Aunt Andrea is crouching on top of her office chair like she’s hiding from a mouse. As I’m enjoying the show, I hold out my palm and make a clicking sound with my tongue. The gator nuzzles my side.
“Jenna—Good, you’re here!” I say. “Allow me to introduce you to Gil—from camp. You remember, right? I told so many stories about him. How could you forget?”
Her jaw falls slack as she looks at her mother for confirmation of the impossible. But Aunt Andrea’s eyes are locked on mine.
“This is my official resignation,” I say. “Do you need it in writing?”
“Oh darlin’—you’ve got to put it in writing,” Gil cuts in. The look on his face is dangerous as he searches my aunt’s desk. “You’ve got paper and a pen somewhere, don’t ya?”
With shaking hands, Aunt Andrea scrambles to grab me supplies to write with. Clawrece snarls the moment my aunt gets close. To that, I give my protective gator a loving pat on the head.
“Don’t think you’re getting a single dime for this stunt!” Aunt Andrea hisses as Gil slides me the paper and I hurry to write my official notice. My heart races every second. I’m about to turn away when Gil’s hand holds me firm at the waist.
“Now, I don’t believe that’s a very upstanding way to run a business,” Gil says, his tone casual. “Write Marina a check for everything you owe her—”
Aunt Andrea hesitates.
“Gil, she doesn’t have to,” I whisper quietly, tugging at his arm.
“She does,” he says, patting an armchair for me to sit down—I do, savoring the feeling of his webbed hand squeezing mine. “We’re not in a rush, now are we, darlin’?”
I exhale, breathing in his confidence as my own. Gil is here. I don’t have to do this alone.
“Go on,” Gil urges, leaning on the armrest as Clawrece nestles herself at my feet. “We’ll wait.”
And just like that, the biggest villain in my life folds. I watch breathlessly as she reaches for her pink checkbook, and she scratches down a number.
Gil glances down and lets out a huff.
“Everything,” he says, pushing it back with the tip of his claw. “You know you cheated her with this place—last chance to make it right.”
She won’t.
Her bite is worse than Clawrece.
She’ll fight and argue and—Aunt Andrea slides another check, and all I can do is blink. That’s a lot of zeroes.
“What is he talking about, Mom?” Jenna asks. There’s a quiver in her voice, and I don’t think it’s just from Clawrece staring her down. “That’s the same amount I gave you last year.”
My gaze flies to my cousin’s, a wave of understanding hitting me—I’m not the only one Aunt Andrea has cheated.
“Huh,” I say quietly. “Looks like you two are in for a conversation…”
“It’s nothing, sweetie,” Aunt Andrea says to Jenna with a huff, but with the way Jenna’s mouth is falling open, I think this moment might have unleashed a domino effect.
I can’t say I’m sorry.
“I hope you know you’re not welcome back here anymore after this,” Aunt Andrea says, sliding me the check.
“I know,” I manage with a firm nod, folding the check and putting it in my pocket. I fight the urge to thank her… I don’t know why I would, but out of habit, the want is there. Instead, I take a step back, squeezing Gil’s hand—wishing I had the strength to say more.
“I mean it—no more crawling back here—not next week, not next year—never.”
“Bless your heart.” Gil’s words are as sharp as knives as he drapes his arm around me. “Ma’am, that’s the whole point.”
“I can’t believe you’re here!” I say, laughing and shaking my head as we walk down the street, the way paved by our swamp kitten. “Both of you.”
Meaning him and Clawrece—though Magnus is apparently around here somewhere, guarding the portal or flirting with mortals on Halloween—it’s really anyone’s guess, and despite him saving me from dancing to death at the Festival of the Four Sisters, I’m glad it’s just my man and my gator at the present moment.
“Sorry for the surprise,” he says heartily, his arm at my waist tugging me closer before his gaze is suddenly downcast. “I knew I couldn’t show up in my real form, but I didn’t realize y’all don’t walk gators around here—last time I trust Magnus’s advice. Your Grams okay?”
“She’s okay—it was a big misunderstanding.”
“I’ve sent you so many messages.”
“You have?”
“Did the bottles not show up?”
The glass bottles…
“…Broken and swept into the trash—oh Gil, I had no idea! I was worried you—”
“Forgot?” His palm comes up to cup my cheek. “Oh Splenda, I don’t forget anything,” he drawls, and heat rushes to my face at the sudden contact. “When you said you were scared, I was worried.”
“That was never about us… I mean, I am because of course I am—but all I meant was I was worried I wouldn’t get there in time for Grams. She’s the only family I have.”
Until I met you.
The thought is loud and unspoken but nonetheless true. When you know, you know—the words echo along with the old song. Now that he’s here, I can’t imagine ever being apart.
“I should have been understanding,” he says. “I hope I didn’t mess things up.”
An airhorn of a snort echoes from my nose as I bark a laugh that startles both Clawrece and Gil. Does he really think that was bad?
“It’s going to take more than one grumpy response and swiping away my phone notifications to get rid of me,” I say, pulling him close as we walk. Our sides knock into each other, and his smile radiates as warm as sunlight. “And I was pretty panicked myself.”
“Still—I won’t make it a habit.”
“Me neither.”
But there’s something to knowing if we do get into a misunderstanding again—we still have each other.
We walk down the street with Clawrece, hand in hand, getting comically funny looks as we head back to Grams’ apartment building.
I want to take him out to eat somewhere—but I can’t think of a single place that would allow a gator, and the Halloween excuse is only going to get us so far. So I’m hoping I have something in the pantry to offer him.
The front desk is normally unmanned during the weekends. Most of the folks will be on an outing, Grams included, so if we’re careful, we should be able to sneak up no problem.
A few of the ladies from Grams’ poker club catch a glimpse of us, and honestly, I think they’re more excited to see me with a guy and his “elaborate costume” than they are bothered by our unconventional animal companion.
“Happy Halloween, ladies,” Gil greets, and the pair giggle like they’re the ones in their early twenties and swooning.
“I’ve seen some things in my day—but never this.” Beth sighs after we exchange a few pleasantries.
“Service animals are stranger every day—did I tell you about my daughter-in-law’s cousin with the emotional support snake?”
“You’re kidding!”
We rush past the rest of the doors down the hall until we reach Grams’ place. Barreling through the door, we crash on the couch laughing ’til our sides hurt.
“Oh!” I say, running past Clawrece, who’s already made herself at home on the plush rug. I snag the drawing that’s comically been displayed on the fridge the past few weeks and proudly present it to Gil.
“Look familiar?”
“Wow.” His voice is low and sweet. I watch as his claws trail the shapes, and a grin spreads across his face.
When he laughs, I can’t think. It’s sheer utter happiness rising from every part of me.
His arms wrap around me, the drawing still carefully held in his hands.
I always thought the idea of love was the world falling away while you danced in a crowded ballroom—a prince saving the damsel from a dragon.
Maybe it’s a scaly swamp man saving you when you go too far off path, being held and safe and chosen.
“I love it,” he says, and we make no attempt to move apart from each other.
I love you. I think.
Moments pass inside Grams’ apartment. It’s nothing compared to his beautiful house on the water, but still, I like him being here. And I can’t wait for Grams to return from her outing with the rest of the seniors to meet him.
“Let me cook you something,” Gil says, bending down to plant a kiss on my shoulder. I lean back against his chest, letting out a breath and savoring the feeling of his cool scales on my skin.
“We could do it together,” I muse, not wanting to be alone with my thoughts. If Gil is busy in the kitchen, what am I supposed to do? Relax? I know myself better than to think that’s going to happen.
“What do you like to eat?”
“Oh, I’m not picky… whatever you feel like making,” I say with a shrug.
“Still, if there are any favorites… I’d like to know about them,” he says, and I love the way his scales seem to shine extra bright when he smiles, like it’s something that affects his whole body.
I never thought I’d meet someone who wanted to know my favorite foods so he could make them—not just tonight, but tomorrow… forever.
Someone I can be completely honest and myself with.
“If I told you I’m a 22-year-old woman, and nothing gives me greater pleasure than bad TV and dino shaped chicken nuggets, what would you say?”
“Get me an apron and I’ll show you.”
“God, this is perfect,” I exclaim. “I never would have thought to add frozen broccoli to a boxed mac and cheese.”