Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
Lot
This man…
The house smells like apples and cinnamon. Maurice has gone to Docks, wasting no time getting back to it.
I’m sitting at the kitchen table with Queenie staked out on my lap.
“Girl, you need to stop,” I mutter, stroking her head like that’ll soothe her drama.
Those diva claws nearly shredded my sweater when I got here.
She launched herself into my arms like I’d been gone for years instead of overnight, clingy as hell, going full-on banshee mode the second I even try to put her down.
Now, she’s pressed to my chest, vibrating with purrs, gripping my top like she’s afraid I’ll vanish again.
“It’s sweet,” Mom says, pulling the scones from the oven. “She really adores you, honey. She paced the hallway all night, howling. She got so upset, she tore up your father’s slippers and my fiscus.”
“I’m sorry, Mom. I know she can be high-strung, but you two were getting along so well. I thought this might work.”
“She was fine at first. Playful when she felt like it, disappearing when she had enough of being social. But as the hours passed, it was as if she realized this might not be temporary. Then she became inconsolable. Didn’t even care about her treats.”
“You’re impossible,” I scold, glancing down at her, looking all cute, nothing like the hellcat Mom just described. “What am I going to do with her? I’m leaving in the morning.”
“She can stay, if that’s what you really want. Maybe she’ll settle after a few days. Or…” Mom looks at the two of us. “You could take her with you.”
“I don’t want a cat,” I insist for the umpteenth time. “I don’t do well with that kind of responsibility. Remember you gave me a cactus because it required minimal care and it barely lasted a month?”
“You overwatered it. That just means you were extra attentive, not neglectful.”
“It still died.”
Mom just smiles. “You’ve done a great job with Queenie.”
“Dice takes care of her more than I do.”
“Well, she loves you, honey, and I think you love her back. You’re just scared. The same applies to Dice.”
I knew that was coming. “Ma, don’t start.”
“It’s true.
“He doesn’t love me like that.”
“Nonsense. You’re both just dancing around the topic instead of addressing it head-on.”
“There’s no point. Even if he does feel what I do—which is unlikely—it wouldn’t work. Long distance would get old fast for a man like Dice.”
“You mean because of his sexual appetite?”
“Jeez, Mom! Do you have to be so blunt?”
“That’s rich coming from you.” She grins, then turns serious. “I’ve always thought Dice’s playboy lifestyle comes from fear. Same as you. Scared to risk your hearts. But if you both let that fear go… I think you could have something truly wonderful.”
Queenie nuzzles under my chin with a soft meow, all in her feelings too.
“You’ve been orbiting each other since you were kids,” Mom continues.
“Dice was always trying to impress you, always looking out for you. I knew he loved you then. And you loved him too. The way you took on your dad like a fierce little warrior. The way you defend him still. So many great love stories are built on strong friendships. You just have to give yourselves a chance to see what it could be.”
“If it fails, we could lose everything.”
“That’s the glass-half-empty way to see it. Flip that. What if it works? Then you gain everything. A best friend and a partner.”
I run my fingers through Queenie’s fur, my mind spinning thoughts like a game of Russian roulette. “It’s too complicated.”
“Love always is. It just means you have to decide whether you’re going to give yourself an excuse not to go for it, or a reason to try.”
Tears prick behind my eyes, but I blink them away.
“I didn’t expect to fall this hard again,” I admit in a whisper.
“I thought it was just unfinished business. Lust. Nostalgia. But he’s…
he’s part of my wiring. And I don’t know how to leave without breaking something inside me.
But if I tell him that I love him, that I want to try, and he doesn’t feel the same, that’ll break me too. ”
“It’ll hurt, but you’re too sturdy to break.” Mom brushes my locs behind my ear and cups my cheek like she used to when I was little. “You can take the safer route and leave Queenie and Dice if that’s what you choose. But don’t lie to yourself about what you’re leaving behind.”
My chest cinches like I’ve been laced into a corset three sizes too small.
“Let’s leave that to simmer,” Mom suggests.
She pours each of us a glass of iced tea, then slides a plate of apple-cinnamon scones between us at the table. I take a bite and nearly choke but manage to get out an appreciative, “Mmm.”
Mom takes a bite too… and grimaces. “Thank you for sparing my feelings, but these are god-awful.”
“The worst,” I agree, and the humor of it gives me space to breathe as we both dissolve into laughter.
Back at Rayne’s, after stopping by the shelter and calling the airline, I dump a load of clothes in the washer and reach for my phone to text Dice. It’s dead. Of course. I can’t even remember to keep it charged. I’d gotten used to him doing it for me. And now I’m supposed to look after a cat.
I shove the charger in and wait a few minutes. When the screen lights up, I type:
Queenie didn’t work out with my mom. Just signed adoption papers. The menace is officially becoming a New Yorker.
She knows what she’s doing. Gotta respect the queen for going after what she wants.
No lie. Queenie doesn’t let anything hold her back. Not like me.
I just didn’t want to burden Mom with it.
Yeah… you stick with that story.
You heading out to work?
Yep.
Maurice is already there.
Figured.
Sorry if he doesn’t let you keep the responsibilities you’ve earned.
Not on you. This is between him and me.
He’s right. But that doesn’t stop me from wanting to fix it. Even though I think he should just quit and go where he’ll truly be appreciated. Like New York. But we’ve been down that road before—when I left and he stayed.
What’s on tap for 2nite?
Laundry. Dinner at Mom’s. Packing. Rayne’s still taking me to the airport, but Queenie and I will swing by later to say a proper goodbye. No peeling. Just tryna get it all done.
I got you. Why don’t I come by after work? Bring your things and save you the trip.
You don’t mind?
I want to do whatever works for you.
This man…
You already got me in my feels.
Same. I’ll prbly go off worse than Queenie when you leave.
I laugh through the ache, knowing he’s joking. But still…
Later, Jones.
Later, Web.
I manage to trick Queenie into the carrier, then leave the clothes drying while I make my rounds. First to the Vargases’, then C’s.
Sophia answers the door with her usual bubbly energy, dimples on display, talking a mile a minute, buzzing about her big move to Chicago next week.
She drags me to her room to show off a lineup of new outfits.
They’re fun and colorful and suit her style, while still being professional for her first advertising job.
I can’t imagine myself doing nine-to-five in an office, but more power to the people who do it.
“I feel so grown up,” she says, twirling in an orange blazer.
“You are. But keep your free spirit. Don’t let any job or anyone squash that.”
“I won’t. I’m going to take your advice and use this time to learn more about myself. Explore. What about you?”
“What about me?”
“You going back to playing the field?”
“Going back to work. And now I got a damn cat. Tinder boys gonna have to wait.”
“Is that the only reason?”
“Girl, stop. Dice and I were a limited-time deal. We’re cool.”
“Okay,” she says, but her dubious look conveys she doesn’t buy it. Neither do I.
“Keep in touch. I want to hear all about your job and adventures.”
“I will.” She pulls me into a Sophia hug. The kind that wraps you in warmth and sunshine. One that’s impossible not to smile in—even for a non-hugger.
I leave her bedroom and find Lexie and Chaz in the kitchen, working on dinner. The air smells like good home cooking. Lex hands me a glass of wine, and I lean against the counter.
“So,” C says, basting the short ribs like he’s nursing a baby, “you seriously leaving us to deal with Dice’s grumpy ass?”
“He’ll survive.”
“I wouldn’t bet my grail on that.”
He says it with just enough weight to threaten the tears I’ve been choking back all day, especially after Dice sent me that mix of the songs that was so… us. I pivot fast, changing the topic to Lexie’s studio.
“Thanks for all your help,” she says.
“My pleasure, . Best of luck with everything.”
“You too.”
When it’s time to go, C gives me a quick hug. “Don’t stay away so long this time.”
“I won’t.” Though I don’t know what that means for Dice and me. Friends while apart, more than friends when I’m in town? Not enough either way.
Later at Mom’s, I pick at the herbed chicken and lime rice, half listening to the conversations while my mind stays on Dice. I tune in when Maurice starts talking about his return to Docks.
“Did you let the team know you appreciated their hard work while you were gone?” I ask.
He lifts his eyes from his plate, indulgent. “Yes, Charlotte.”
“And Dice? Did you tell him you like the new reports?”
“Did that too,” he huffs. “Now, can I get back to my chicken?”
“Sure.” I trade a discreet smile with Mom.
It’s not much, but coming from Maurice, it’s practically a love letter.
If he only saw what I see in Dice. If he only knew he’d been the reason Dice fought so hard not to be like his mother, he might realize how misplaced his judgment is. But that’s not my story to tell.
When the meal is over, I help with the dishes and say my goodbyes. Uncle Mo kisses my cheek. My father gives me an awkward pat on the shoulder. “Your mother’s been happy to have you home,” he says, then adds, “So have I.”
It’s a moment.
Mom hugs me long and hard, not hiding her tears. “I love you, sweet girl.”
“I love you, too, Ma. I’ll be back for Thanksgiving.”
“Too long.” She sniffles. “Take care of yourself and Queenie. Dice too.”
Back at Rayne’s, she sees I don’t want to talk—can’t right now—and leaves me to finish packing. I wheel my suitcases to the front. Other than the bed, the room is stripped bare. Almost like I was never here.
Sitting on the edge of the mattress in cotton shorts and a cami, I check into my flight. Queenie’s curled up on the comforter with Spider-Man, watching me like she knows exactly what I’m feeling.
My phone’s still playing Dice’s mix on loop. I glance at the screen—10:05. He’ll be here soon.
For the goodbye I don’t know how to give.