Chapter 12 #3
“I’m declaring it your responsibility to tell me in advance if someone’s birthday is coming up. Or an anniversary. Or Christmas.” I stop and wrinkle my nose. “Halloween’s not really a gift-giving holiday, right?”
“No.”
“Good. Am I supposed to send Zora gifts all the time now since she’s technically my niece? Three-month-old babies rarely remember forgotten birthdays, right?”
His lips twitch with the smile he struggles to lock down. “I’d say you’re good for another year or two before she starts noticing.”
“Excellent. And by then, you’ll be in the habit of reminding me ahead of time anyway.” I reach out for the handle, but the guard outside beats me to it and opens my door for me. “Oh. And before I go.” I bring my eyes back to Harrison’s. “When’s your birthday?”
“M-mine?” He gulps. I swear, the poor guy’s stress levels are gonna kill him. “December, Chief. Twenty-first.”
“December, like me. I won’t forget.”
Lies. I forget my own birthday at least half of the time.
“Put it in the calendar and remind me ahead of time. Otherwise, you can clock off now, Mr. Harrison. I’m home, and I intend to stay here for the rest of the night.
” I twist toward my open door and slide out until my feet hit the ground.
My bag is heavy on my arm, and the sun pelts down on the side of my face just to remind me I had it good inside the car.
“Thank you.” I step around the guard whose name I don’t know and nod for the next one—don’t know his name, either.
I move through the small wrought-iron gate and onto old Spanish tile, then I cross into icy cold air conditioning and the arms of a man I’ve spent the last eighteen months secretly wishing was somehow biologically related to me.
I feel silly loving a man who isn’t my husband. But each time he pulls me in for a hug and presses a gentle kiss to my cheek, that silliness washes away, and my heart releases a happy sigh.
Biology doesn’t matter anyway.
“Welcome home, Doctor Mayet.” Steve is a saggy old man with too much skin, not a great deal of hair on his head, a permanent quarter-inch stubble that stretches from his nostrils to his Adam’s apple, and a missing front tooth.
He looks absolutely nothing like anyone in my family tree, and if we attempted to pretend otherwise, even a blind person in the street would call us out on it.
But it makes me happy to know him, and happier still that he’s in this house rather than hidden away in an overheated apartment downtown.
He pulls back, his hands carefully wrapped around my arms. I know he works hard to slow the shake of his limbs. “I’m not sure if I’ve become accustomed to the stench of death, Doctor, or if you’ve simply had a good day today, but,” he sniffs the air. “I approve.”
Snickering, I detangle us and set my bag on the floor.
My phone in my back pocket. Still no call from Archer.
Finally, I link my arm with his and bring us around.
“It’s probably a little bit of A and a little bit of B.
More importantly, I’ve missed your daily updates.
I recall a time not so long ago that I could come home from work and you’d tell me the gossip I’d missed throughout the day.
I know we’re not at the apartments right now, but,” I tilt my ear toward the back of the house, toward Mia’s pealing laughter.
“Surely you have something to update me with.”
“Certainly.” He pats my hand and strolls with me along the hall.
“Mia found an extensive cache of Nerf guns at approximately eleven o’clock this morning.
No one seems to know where they came from, and though I have my suspicions, she’s not confessing.
” His eyes twinkle and dance as he glances across.
“Mia’s aim has improved throughout the day.
Cato bears the scars of war to prove it. ”
I snort. “Good. He deserves to be shot with foam bullets sometimes. What else?”
“Mary prepared us a delicious chicken salad for lunch, and an extensive fruit platter for afternoon snacking. Mia quite enjoys the watermelon, so she was promised more if she could swim, unassisted, from one side of the pool to the other.”
Stunned, I take solace in the tinkle of her laughter in the backyard. She didn’t drown. “She made it?”
He clicks his tongue. “Eh… Not quite unassisted. She panicked halfway across and grabbed the wall. But she got further today than she did yesterday, and further yesterday than the day before.”
“Progress is progress.”
“It certainly is. Progress comes from perseverance. Perseverance was rewarded with watermelon.”
“As it should.” I walk with him all the way to the kitchen and deposit him on a stool at the counter, because the strength he had when we began, compared to now, is noticeably different.
Heading to the fridge and taking out a jug of lemon water, I bring it back to the counter and love how, magically, Mary pops up and deposits two glasses and a smile.
“Thank you.” I fill both glasses and push one across to Steve, then, setting the jug down, I pick up the second and wander toward the back door.
Cato floats on his back in the middle of the pool, seemingly oblivious to the little girl who runs around the edge.
But the instant her feet leave the tile, he rolls with an alligator-like ferocity and grabs her before she’s under for more than a second.
I watch them for a moment, holding my breath each time Mia drops below the surface, then breathing again as he throws her into the air.
“I spent almost every single day of his nineteen years with that boy.” Mary strolls across the kitchen, risking a peek at the pair outside.
“I never once considered a future where he would become a father. I especially didn’t consider one where he could be good at it.
” She exhales a happy sigh. “Someday, when the time is right and the circumstances are perfect, he’ll make a baby of his own.
He’ll outshine every star in the sky. I’m quite certain. ”
“Mmm.” I get caught in Mia’s laughing gaze.
Her silly expression. Though I could’ve sworn Cato’s playfulness was enough to keep her preoccupied.
I send a little finger wave her way, then I turn on my heels and head back to the counter.
“I think you may be right. It’s hard for me to align this Cato with the man who…
” Invites random women into my bathroom purely to annoy me. “The man who dates freely.”
Mary snorts.
“But watching him with Mia, I’ve found, is quite soothing to my soul.” I take a seat on the stool beside Steve and rest my elbow on the counter. “What do you think we should do for dinner?”
Surprised, his eyes widen far enough that even the bushy eyebrows he keeps above them shift. “What do you mean?”
“Ah… I mean, there’s a general societal expectation that we eat three meals a day.
I admit I don’t always comply, but I’m home reasonably early tonight, my belly’s grumbling a little, and Mary’s here for however long you are.
I’m not too proud to hope she might grace us with something delicious.
Or,” I swing my gaze her way, “I could show you the traditions of my people.” I take out my phone and set it on the counter: still no call from Archer.
“There’s this magical portal on my phone that, if you press a button here, a button there, exchange a bit of money, and wait approximately twenty minutes, burritos just turn up at the door. It’s amazing, honestly.”
Mary rolls her eyes and strides to the fridge, yanks the door open, and gestures toward a dish already wrapped in foil. “Mr. Morris and I prepared something a little earlier.”
“Nice! What did you make? Although…” I furrow my brows. “That dish seems kinda small, don’t you think? There are five of us, and—”
“Two of us,” she inserts firmly. “You, Detective Malone, and Cato have a standing invitation to join the Lawrences for dinner tonight.”
“Minka!” Mia skids through the back door in a cute two-piece swimsuit, goggles knotted in her hair, and water dripping onto the tile at her feet. She throws her arms in the air and performs an excited little butt wiggle. “We’re going to the mayor’s house for dinner! Aren’t you so excited?”
“Ah… no?”
“This is it, Aunty Minka! This is my chance to kick that scoundrel in his kneecaps!”
“You’re having dinner with the Lawrences,” Mary insists through tight lips. “It’s settled.”
“I can’t! I don’t even have a bottle of wine to offer the scoundrel. It would be rude of me to show up empty-handed.”
She brushes the dish aside and reaches deep into the back of the fridge. Turning to us again, she reveals a bottle of something fancy and red. It’s like she thinks her organizational skills make me happy. “No empty hands necessary. Aren’t you lucky?”