by Marni Mann
I needed to fix that.
Fast.
So, I said, “I’m going to come to your place, and I’ll bring something yummy.”
He laughed. “I have a feeling you order some mean takeout.”
“I do.”
“Then, takeout sounds perfect, Alix.”
I could tell he was smiling.
I just wished I could see it.
I shook my head as I really thought about what that meant. “How’s tonight?” I asked. “Are you free?”
“I’m not, but I can do tomorrow.”
I clicked on my Calendar app to check my work schedule. “I’m on for the late shift, so tomorrow won’t work. How about Friday?”
That was four nights from now.
Much longer than I wanted to wait.
And that was an admission that terrified me.
“I can make Friday happen.”
I stood from the bed. “I’ll be over at seven.”
He said good-bye and hung up, and I walked over to the entrance of the closet and took a glance at the racks. They were filled with clothes Dylan had purchased for me.
Before dating him, I’d never given a shit about clothes.
But, once he’d started buying them for me and I saw the way he reacted when I wore them, I’d sought that type of response every day. It’d become my motivation to look nice.
These clothes were for Dylan.
I couldn’t wear a single thing in here.
I looked at the screen of my phone and clicked on Rose’s name to type her a text.
Me: We need to go shopping.
Rose: For?
Me: My second date with Smith.
Rose: Sounds like someone forgave you. Yesss. How much time do we have?
Me: Until Friday night.
Rose: Girl, that’s like a year away.
Me: This is going to be harder than you think. It can’t be too sexy. It has to be subtle sexy and mostly casual since I’m bringing dinner to his place.
Rose: I’ve got this; don’t worry. You worry about getting yourself a waxing appointment and making sure everything is bare by Friday.
Me: You’re insane.
Rose: No, I’m just determined to get my bestie laid.
Me: God, why does that make me so nervous?
My phone began to ring, the screen showing it was Rose calling. I answered and said, “Are your fingers getting tired of typing?”
“No, I just needed to hear your voice.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re nervous. About a man. And that hasn’t happened in a long time.”
She was right.
Dylan was the last man to make me feel that way.
But Rose wasn’t going to bring that up, not when this conversation was about Smith.
“It’s a strange feeling,” I confessed.
“That’s because you like him. Obviously.”
“I don’t know what I like right now. I just know I want to see him again.”
“As your best friend, I’m qualified to answer that for you, and I’m telling you, you like him. I can hear it in your voice. And I saw it during our walk last night when I brought up his name.”
I briefly closed my eyes, leaning into the entryway of my closet. “He’s so different, Rose.”
“I know. I mean, I don’t, but I do. You wouldn’t be talking to him if he wasn’t amazing.”
I didn’t know him well enough to call him that.
But what I had seen so far certainly qualified.
“Will you please tell me I’m right, so I can gloat a little?”
In the time I’d spent with Smith, I’d learned he was patient. Understanding. He was a caregiver, like me; he’d slept in Joe’s hospital room so that he wouldn’t have to be by himself.
But admitting I had feelings for him was a giant step.
One I wasn’t sure I was ready to take.
“You’re being ridiculous,” I told her.
“Really? Because I’m listening to you being all silent over there; I know you’re dissecting every thought and every word, and your head is going in seven million different directions. Why not just make it easy and be honest with yourself?”
I laughed.
I couldn’t help myself.
It was almost scary how well she knew me.
“Okay,” I finally said, “I like him.”
“It’s about fucking time. Now, before my head gets too big, I’m going back to work. Please stop stressing. It’s not like you’re going to sprout a third nipple because you’ve admitted you care about him.”
“You’re something else.”
“I love you, and I’m hanging up now.”
I dropped the phone from my ear and continued to look inside my closet.
I’ll need more than just an outfit for our date.
I’ll need several in case I see him again after Friday.
Because I want to see more of him.
Because I like him.
Those thoughts were shaking me so hard.
My head dropped toward my chest, and my hands caught my attention.
I was holding them in front of me.
Squeezing them around the phone.
The large, round diamond was shining under the light.
The platinum band was leaving a dent on the side of my pinkie and middle fingers.
I’d put it back on when I was walking home after I threw up.
Rose couldn’t see it.
She wouldn’t understand.
So, I didn’t wear it when I was around her.
Or while I was at work because I didn’t want the questions.
And, now, whenever I spent time with Smith since that would just make things impossibly messy.
I’d just have to remember to take it off.
Thirty-One
Alix
Present Day
I got up from my workstation and went into the kitchen to grab the dinner I’d brought from home.
I wasn’t good with the stove or oven, but no one made a sandwich better than me.
Since the police headquarters was extremely busy at all hours of the night, I went outside to an area only employees had access to.
I didn’t want to be around people.
I just needed a break from the call center.
I needed air.
This had been the most stressful shift I’d had as a dispatcher.
The phones hadn’t stopped for a second, and every call was an emergency. Wait times were double what they normally were. We’d even had to bring in extra police and five sets of paramedics, and they were barely denting the overflow.
My break was supposed to be three hours ago.
Even now, knowing how badly they needed me inside, I was hurrying through each bite.
Halfway through my ham and cheese, I took out my phone and tapped the screen, scrolling through the notifications I’d missed.
Many were from the picture I’d posted this morning.
I’d taken it outside of Rose’s office where I went to bring her some coffee. The sun had hit the mirrored exterior of the building in a way that had to be captured.
I continued to scroll, seeing a few texts from Rose, telling me she found outfits at a boutique near her apartment that she wanted me to try on tomorrow.
There was also an email from the realtor in Maine.
Alix,
I promised I would keep you informed, even when I don’t have anything to report. Unfortunately, that’s been the case for the last few weeks. Since we’re heading into our busy season, I suspect traffic will start to pick up. The house is priced right, it shows well, and inventory is low, so I anticipate an offer soon.
As always, if you have any questions, don’t hesitate to reach out.
Hopefully, I’ll be in touch soon.
—Anne
I deleted the email, not wanting to look at it a second longer than I needed to.
That house in Bar Harbor had been my dream ho
me, depleting every dollar I’d saved. Most went toward the down payment; the rest was spread across the monthly mortgage payments.
Dylan could have his fancy place in Boston and LA and Lake Tahoe.
But, in Maine, I wanted basic.
Cozy.
I wanted the home to reflect the one I had grown up in—a place that didn’t have frills, but a space where I always felt safe and comfortable, where there was an abundance of love.
For a while, the house did that.
It became our treat.
A rescue from our jobs.
The motivation that had kept us going because we knew Maine would always be waiting for us when we needed it.
But, now, it hurt every time I thought of it.
So much so that I couldn’t even go.
I wanted nothing to do with that house anymore.
And I barely wanted anything to do with Maine.
My stomach tightened into a knot, and I put down my sandwich.
Needing a distraction, I swiped my thumb over the screen and came across an earlier message that I’d missed during my first pass.
It was from Smith.
It was a picture of Boston Harbor, the setting sun reflecting off the water. Underneath the photo, he’d written: There’s some shit happening in the city tonight. My news alerts have been going off nonstop. Figured work must be pretty rough for you right now, so I’m hoping this makes it a little better. It’s tonight’s sunset. It made me think of you.
My eyes shifted between his note and the photo.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
He’d sent me a sunny day.
This man.
As my thumbs began typing on the screen, tears gently sprang to my eyes.
Me: You have no idea how badly I needed that.
Smith: I hope it made you smile.
Me: It did. So hard.
Smith: Has it been an ugly one?
Me: The worst.
Smith: How are you getting home tonight?
Me: I’m working until the morning, and then I’ll probably walk. I’ll need it after this shift.
Smith: Text me, so I know you’re safe.
Me: I will.
I looked up from the screen.
Two police officers had stepped out here to smoke.
It was definitely time to go.
I grabbed my half-eaten sandwich, and as I made my way to the door, I heard, “Hey, Alix.”
Up until now, I’d been so careful.
I always kept my head down.
I avoided the more popular areas of the building, using the stairs and back hallways just to prevent this from happening.
I had gone weeks without being discovered outside my department.
And, now …
This.
I put my hand in the air and waved. “Hey.”
“I heard you were back. It’s good to see you.”
“Thanks.” I nodded. “You, too.”
The one who had recognized me looked at the other officer and said, “Do you know who she is?”
I couldn’t listen to his description of me.
Not today.
So, just as his mouth was opening to answer, I waved again and pushed my way through the door. I rushed up the stairs and hurried to my desk. After I put on the headset, I sucked in a deep breath and rested my fingers on the keyboard, my thumb gently tapping the space bar but not hard enough to actually press it down. My body tensed. The tips of my toes ground into the bottom of my shoes.
I clicked to accept the incoming call.
And I waited.
Me: I’m home.
Smith: You all right?
Me: I’m good, just really tired.
Smith: Try to get some sleep, and I’ll see you tomorrow.
My reply was a sun.
It felt much more fitting now.
Thirty-Two
Smith
Present Day
“I hope you’re hungry,” Alix said once I opened my front door where she stood on the other side, holding several bags in each hand. “I couldn’t help myself, so I grabbed one of everything.”
I laughed.
She was so fucking adorable in the baseball hat, her hair in a long braid that hung over her chest. She had on a tank top that tied at her waist and a pair of tight jeans that showed off her perfect legs.
I held out my hands and said, “Let me take them.”
She shook her head and stepped inside. “If I give you one, they’re all going to fall. Just show me where to set them down.”
I brought her into the kitchen, pointing to the large island in the middle.
Once the bags hit the countertop, she faced me. “I’m so sorry again about the other night.”
I saw the remorse in her eyes.
“I really wanted to be here,” she continued. “I’d been looking forward to it.”
I believed her.
And I felt the same way.
I nodded toward the bags. “Show me what you’ve brought.”
“I stopped at four different restaurants.” She laughed. “I told you, I eat like a pregnant woman.”
“No need to defend yourself. I’m as much of a foodie as you are.”
As she took out the to-go cartons, telling me about the dishes she’d ordered, I headed for the cabinets that held the plates. When I got it open, I heard, “Hey, Smith.” I glanced over my shoulder at her. “Just grab two forks. It’ll be more fun to eat that way.”
I liked her style.
I took the utensils out of the drawer and rejoined her, where she’d spread everything out onto the counter. There were French fries, which I was learning was at the top of her food list. There was also a fig and prosciutto flatbread, beef with broccoli, and several rolls of sushi.
Before we dug in, she placed two slices of chocolate cake on the countertop and pushed one toward me.
“You’ve got to tell me how you started eating dessert first.” I sliced off the end bite and popped it into my mouth.
She stared at her fork as she said, “I was at home one night, and I opened the fridge to get something to eat. I wasn’t feeling that well, and my options were leftover lo mein or a ham sandwich. Neither sounded appealing, but I knew I had to put some food in me.” She looked up, and there was so much fucking pain in her eyes. “There were two slices of cake on the counter, and the thought of chocolate didn’t make me want to die. So, I ate one, and the next day, I inhaled the other.” She scraped the metal over the icing. “That went on for a long time until it just became normal.”
There were so many questions I wanted to ask, starting with her pain, where it had come from, what it was.
I hadn’t earned that right.
I was lucky I’d gotten this much.
I swallowed another mouthful and asked, “Is it always chocolate?”
She licked off a large piece of frosting. “Once in a while, I’ll grab lemon or red velvet, and I regret it every time.”
“You like to switch up the bakeries you get it from because I can tell this isn’t from Nona’s.”
She smiled. “You’re getting good.”
“You’re not the only one who likes cake, Alix.”
She crossed an arm over the counter as she leaned into it. “Sounds like you have a bakery I need to try.”
“I’ll get you a piece next time I’m by it.”
I didn’t want to mention I’d already done that and make the pain in her eyes look even worse.
“No way. You have to bring me there. I’m so visual; I like to take in the whole experience.”
“The place is in Roxbury,” I said, referring to the same neighborhood in the city where I’d told her my mom lived. “You won’t want to go there.”
“But I do.”
She had as many questions as I did. I could see them, and I could see her hesitation in asking them.
“Is that where you’re from?”
I nodded.
“I’m not new to
Roxbury,” she said. “I’ve spent lots of time there over the years. I probably know where the bakery is, and I’ve probably been on the street where you grew up.”
There had been many streets.
We’d never lasted more than a few months in each place.
I took in the last of my cake. “You were there because of work?”
“Yes.”
Dispatchers were grounded inside the police headquarters. They certainly weren’t cruising the streets of the hood.
“I wasn’t always a dispatcher,” she said as though she could read my mind.
“What did you do before?”
What they hadn’t taught me in law school was how to read people. That was something I’d learned from spending so much time in the industry. That was why, when Alix said, “I was a paramedic,” I knew not to ask why she no longer worked as one.
She was extremely uncomfortable.
Every signal was telling me that.
So, I opened the champagne bottle I still had from the other night and poured her a glass. I took a beer for myself and went back to the island.
Her hand gripped the stem, twisting the glass in a circle, watching the fizz float to the top. “Nona’s is better,” she said, and then she took the last bite of her cake.
“It’s still pretty damn good.”
Several seconds of silence passed.
She hadn’t picked up anything else to eat.
She was just staring at the empty to-go box, running the fork through the frosting that had stuck to the sides of the container. “Hey, Smith?” she said when she finally glanced up.
I was already looking at her.
“Thank you for dropping it,” she whispered.
I wasn’t sure if she was talking about our last date that hadn’t happened or her previous employment. But, when I saw her body slowly start to relax, it no longer mattered.
My mother had once told me, she could always point out a junkie, even the ones who were trying to hide their disease. She could tell from their pupils, the way they turned to the size of pinpoints.