Chapter Twenty-Three #3
Thoroughly satisfied, she hung up. “Okay, Yoda, time for a walk. And if Cleo’s in the kitchen when we’re done, we’re on duty there. Otherwise, it’s back here for me.”
But the rest of the week, she decided, without a celebration dinner to help prepare, she’d start on the basement storage areas.
“Rub her face in it just a little more,” she muttered.
She went out the front, threw open her arms to embrace the air, and turned a circle.
When she did, she noticed the leaves on the weeper had a blush of color instead of their summer green.
“It’s happening, Yoda.”
Part of her felt a pang that the summer, the really wonderful summer, had come to an end. The rest felt the tingle of anticipation. The crisper air, the glorious fall foliage, the fires crackling, the scent of woodsmoke and nights made for snuggling.
She’d experience and appreciate yet another season at Lost Bride Manor. And before long, she swore it, that name would no longer apply.
While Sonya and Yoda took their walk, Trey managed to grab a quick lunch with Owen. Since it was handy, they hit the sandwich shop and split the sub special—ham, salami, and provolone with a basket of house-made chips.
“What’s the word?” Owen asked once they’d ordered. “I get something went down this morning.”
“It turns out Dobbs did in the end, but I’ll take you from the start.”
As he did, he paused only when the server delivered their Cokes, then again when their food arrived. Poole’s Bay, he knew well, enjoyed its gossip. And the manor was always a highlight.
“She’s been down there with me a couple times. Not like that.” Owen sprinkled some Tabasco on his sub before biting in. “But you can feel her. I don’t use the streaming. I’ve got a routine and a playlist. But I can tell you, if I heard that shit instead of Metallica or M83 or whoever, I’d freak.
“In a manly, fuck-you sort of way,” he added.
“A given, and she clearly did. She said the exercise bands hissed like snakes, dropped down, and slithered.”
“My freak-out might not have been as manly.”
“The lights go out, and the door won’t open.”
As Trey told him the rest, Owen munched on chips, sat back.
When it was done, he lifted his glass in toast. “First, you’ve got yourself a stand-up woman.
Dobbs wanted her curled in the fetal position, screaming, and crying.
Instead, she brought it. And Clover, not just a hot babe, but another stand-up.
They laughed. Not just Clover, not just the rest of the brides. ”
“She thinks more, yeah. And Sonya’s standing there.” Trey raised his fists. “Ready to take her on. Dobbs does the retreat. Lights on. And I got there just as she opened the door.”
He paused again, gave the server a quick smile. “No, we’re good, thanks.”
Waited a beat.
“God, Owen, she was so pale, shaking from the cold. I could feel the blast of cold pour out of the room when the door opened. Meat-locker cold. But she looked fierce. Just fierce.
“We need to end this. I want to make a life with her.”
“You are making a life with her.”
“One where she doesn’t have to worry about these goddamn ambushes. Where none of us do.”
It ground in his guts like broken glass.
“I see her like this morning, I see you ready to stab yourself rather than hurt her or Cleo or me. I want to go into that room and take Dobbs on, take her out. And I know that’s not the way.”
“Well, you can’t do it your way, the lawyer way, so it’s hard not to wish it were. I’m right there, too.”
“I can’t ask her to leave the manor, to give up her inheritance, or to desert Clover, the other brides.”
“I get that, and it’s another right there.” Idly, Owen picked up one of the remaining chips. “I might be able to talk Cleo into giving up that studio, especially if I can promise something equal. But she’d never leave Sonya. And like Sonya, she wouldn’t leave the rest.”
“So that’s where we are.”
“Yeah. That’s where we are. Until.”
Trey hissed out frustration. “I can’t figure a way through to the until.”
“And you’re used to figuring your way through. I’m not much on the whole fate business. That’s Cleo’s deal. But, man, I don’t think we’d be where we are, and that’s all four of us, unless there was a way through.”
“That’s what I keep telling myself.” And it helped to hear it, but.
“She’s darker than she was, Owen. The more they … lighten up the manor, the darker she gets. I think it’s right, she can’t do real damage to Sonya, to any of us without breaking her own curse. But.”
“Yeah, I’ve gone there. She’s a lunatic. She could lose it.”
“Curse broken, but Sonya’s the sacrifice. That’s not going to happen.”
“It’s fucking not.”
Owen shifted forward.
“Look, I’m going into Cleo territory again, but it feels like Sonya’s made—don’t ask me how, exactly—but she’s made to be the one to find the way through.
A Poole, but not. She’s had choices from the time Deuce told her about her dad, the inheritance.
She made all the choices that brought her to this point.
She’s going to make the ones that get through to the until. ”
“That’s what I’m counting on.”