What would a loving mother or sister do in this situation? She didn’t want him to run away to get married. She wanted to be there, wearing a dainty hat and sobbing into a lacy handkerchief. She wanted to know Josie better and to be sure she was good enough for Paz. She seemed to be, but how could Shannon be sure? How was anyone ever sure?
Her head wanted to run a full background check on Josie, as if that would settle anything. Trust your gut, she told herself. You know she’s exactly what she seems: a passionate, forthright young woman out to shape her world to her liking. All qualities you admire in people.
All qualities you admire in her sister too. The problem was that Kesa didn’t want to have a thing to do with her now. Why should she? She’d offered her heart and Shannon had reacted like it was radioactive. The only way she had known—still knew—how to deal with big emotions was to deny they existed. Head down, work hard. Don’t waste time on daft ideas. Don’t make yourself a target. Rainbows are illusions, dreams never come true. Those had been the solid, steady lessons her aunt had relentlessly drilled into her.
Why would she want to visit that kind of smothering on Paz when the fact was she envied him? They were considering eloping, that was the urgent part of the conversation she’d overheard. She wasn’t supposed to know, and the kids were adults. Could she keep it to herself and let life run its course? They wanted to take the risk and face the future together. Why shouldn’t she let them?
There might be a good job offer coming from the Integrity people. She should take it, maybe. Paz didn’t need her. Kesa didn’t want her. Run away because, sure, that would solve everything.
She wrapped a blue-ice pack in a tea towel and nearly cried with relief as she stretched out prone on the sofa and set it across her eyes. The cool quickly subdued the fire and calmed the throb in her skull. After a few minutes she transferred the pack to her right shoulder, which was barking loudly about all the mousing she’d been doing.
Who knew nonstop reading could be a contact sport? It happens so fast, she thought. All of a sudden you’re staring at forty and lying to yourself that a good night’s sleep will fix it all.
“Hey, are you okay?” Paz’s voice made her open her eyes.
“Yeah, bad headache.”
Josie’s face appeared around Paz’s shoulder. “Would you like some herbal tea? I keep tea bags in my backpack, I mean, who can afford two bucks a bag at S-bux? It’s a calming blend, with orange zest and a little ginger, and it’s great for headaches. No caffeine.”
“Thank you,” Shannon said as she struggled to sit up. “That sounds good. I’ve had too much caffeine today.”
Josie was back within minutes with a fragrant mug. The aroma alone made Shannon feel better. She also noticed how at home Josie seemed in their kitchen. She was going to have to get used to that.
For a moment she was tempted to ask them about their plans. To try to get them to admit they were thinking about eloping. But before she could do more than thank Josie for the tea, Josie was packing up her backpack.
“I’ll be back in a while,” Paz said, keys in hand.
She drank the rest of the tea as the house went completely dark. The sliding glass door was open, letting in cool night air through the screen. The next thing Shannon knew the clock said it was two a.m., and Paz had covered her with the blanket she kept in the hutch for cold nights. She thought about moving to her bed and while she was still worrying that it would wake her up too much to get back to sleep she was out again. There was time to worry tomorrow.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Kesa thrust a green bottle at Cami as she opened Auntie Ivy’s door. “I brought bubbly!”
“I can’t drink—oh! Sparkling apple juice. Thank you, I like this stuff.” She peered at the bag in Kesa’s other hand.
“Samosas. I’m celebrating a big deal at work.”
Cami’s eyes widened with anticipation. With her hair in two pigtails she looked twelve. “What kind?”
“Paneer with carrot, and I also got sweet with mango. They should be great with Marisol’s fruit bowl when we take a break.”
“She’s not here yet, but I heard her front door a few minutes ago, so I think she just got home.”
“Kumusta, Auntie Ivy,” Kesa called as they moved into the small hallway where she shed her shoes and deposited her purse on the floor next to them. “The pinakbet smells terrific.”
“It is terrific,” came the answer, then Kesa was in the kitchen to collect a hug. “You look well.”
“Thank you.” She tweaked the sleeve of Auntie Ivy’s housecoat. “I like this one. Rose is a good color for you.”
“Did I hear you say you brought sweet samosas? What’s the occasion?”
“A big commission that will have good publicity if I can pull it off. My sister agreed to help out with a part of it this morning, which will make a big difference.” She wanted to add that Shannon was leaving town, but how could she do that when she’d never told them about Shannon to begin with? It was ridiculous, wanting comfort over something that never was or would be. “And in general, my workshop is going great.”
“I knew you would be successful. You are very talented, and you know how to work hard.” Auntie Ivy gave the stew a last stir.
The three of them did their usual dance of negotiation in the small space. Cami set out plates and cutlery, which entailed ducking around Auntie Ivy, who was rummaging in the refrigerator. Kesa scooted between the other two women on the way to the far end of the kitchen counter.
She upended the bag of samosas onto a small cookie sheet, slid them into the toaster oven, and set the temperature to warm. “That’ll keep them until we’re ready. Brown, fried, yummy goodness.” She was slightly breathless from the walk to get here and turned to the sink for a glass of water. “It’s a beautiful day out. Not a cloud in the sky. And the sky is actually blue. Traffic is—”
She whirled around at the sound of a strangled gasp. Auntie Ivy staggered toward her, hands flailing as her knees buckled. By some miracle she missed the stove as Kesa caught her and was able to slow her fall. They both landed with a thud.
Cami dropped to her knees, patting the old lady’s ashen face while chanting, “No, no, no.”
“I’ll get Marisol,” Kesa exclaimed. “Call 911!”
Marisol was still buttoning her blouse as she opened her door in response to Kesa’s frantic knocking.
“Auntie Ivy—something’s wrong.”
With a muttered exclamation, Marisol retreated into her apartment and returned in moments with a first aid kit. “Did you call 911?”
“Cami was going to.” They hurried along the walkway back to the door Kesa had left open.
Kesa got out of Marisol’s way and stood ready to do anything if needed. She’d never seen this side of Marisol, though she’d known it had to exist—calm and commanding.
“Ivy, did you take your pills this morning? Can you squeeze my hand?”
Auntie Ivy was trying to answer Marisol’s questions, but she couldn’t seem to catch her breath. Pain deepened the lines on her face.
Cami was frantically repeating the nearest cross street for the dispatcher. “The apartment is on the second floor. If they take the middle set of stairs our door is right at the top.”
Marisol flipped open the first aid kit and settled the ends of a stethoscope into her ears. “Ivy, I know it’s hard, but try to breathe as normally as possible.” She listened intently to several places on Auntie Ivy’s chest, then pulled a slim flashlight out of the kit, flicking light into each eye. She grunted to herself and reached for Cami’s phone.
The string of medical terms meant little to Kesa, though she understood, “Sluggish response” and “Equal reaction in each eye.” Marisol listened for a moment and said tersely, “I’ll be here when the ambulance arrives.”
She handed the phone back to Cami. “Stay on the line with the dispatcher. Did Ivy say anything about not feeling well?”
“She had a headache earlie
r, but said it went away.”
“Ivy, did you take anything for your headache?” Marisol’s hands moved to take Auntie Ivy’s pulse at her wrist, then she scrabbled a small bottle out of her kit.
Auntie Ivy gave a minimal shake of the head.
“Okay. I’m not sure this is a heart attack. It doesn’t sound right. I don’t see signs of stroke, but I can’t rule it out either. You are getting enough oxygen, though the pain is making it hard to breathe. I really need you to swallow this aspirin, Ivy. You can chew it.”
Auntie Ivy was doing her best to nod, and she let Marisol slip the tablet between her lips.
Kesa lightly touched Marisol’s shoulder. “Water?”
“Only if needed. But she’s swallowed it.” Marisol smiled broadly as she peered down at Auntie Ivy. “Good girl. Really, what you’ll do to avoid losing at Mahjong.”
Auntie Ivy tried to smile. Kesa could tell Cami was trying not to cry. They spent the next several minutes in a holding pattern until Kesa heard the siren and ran out to the stairway railing to wave.
The two paramedics worked seamlessly with Marisol to get Auntie Ivy strapped onto their stretcher for the journey down the stairs. Marisol turned to Cami as they navigated through the doorway. “I’ll go in the ambulance and make sure they take her to Kaiser, where she was before. You get her ID and insurance card and all her medications and follow as soon as you can.”
The no-nonsense tone steadied Cami a little, but she was shaking and still close to tears.
Though she felt a little wobbly too, Kesa adopted Marisol’s aura of calm. “I’ll drive you. I can get a Lyft home from there. No big deal. Gather up the stuff Marisol asked for. I’ll take care of things in here.”
She covered the pinakbet still bubbling on the stove. After making sure all the stove burners were now off, she pulled the samosas out of the toaster oven and clicked it off as well. She put a half dozen of the paneer samosas back into the bag they’d been in, thinking it would probably be a good idea to get Cami to eat one or two. Marisol was likely also hungry. The rest she covered with a tea towel to keep them moist as they cooled.
Cami bustled back into the kitchen and held out a narrow shoebox. “These are her pills. I also got her hairbrush and the lotion she puts on her hands before bed. She likes the lavender smell.” Cami looked at a loss, as if she wasn’t sure why she was holding these items.
“How about her insurance information and her ID?”
“Oh yeah.” Cami rifled through Auntie Ivy’s purse and came up with a slim wallet. “In here, I think.”
Kesa peered over her shoulder as Cami went through the contents. “There’s her Medi-Cal card and her Kaiser card. Why don’t you bring the whole wallet, in case there’s something else.”
“Sure.”
“Get your keys, and how about a sweater? Your phone and a charger?”
They were about five minutes behind the ambulance by the time they were underway. Traffic wasn’t parting for them the way it would for emergency lights and sirens. It felt like forever getting across the 101, and Kesa was extra cautious because she wasn’t used to Cami’s little Nissan. The last thing they needed was a fender bender.
By the time they reached the admissions desk, Marisol was waiting for them. “They’ve taken her up for the usual series of tests. She was already feeling a little bit better by the time we got here. As attacks go, it seems minor, but we’ll know more after the tests.”
“Let’s go sit down,” Kesa suggested. She waved the now-cool bag with the samosas. “And have a bite to eat.”
Marisol gave a gusty sigh of relief. “I’m famished.”
Cami did as they suggested, and once she’d nibbled on some food and sipped water the color began to come back into her face.
“I know Ivy is a pain about it, but she does take her pills.” Marisol patted Cami’s hand. “And she’s worked on her diet and moving around more. I think you’ll be home in a few hours.”
Cami wiped away a stray tear of tension. “I’m not ready to lose her. I’m never going to be ready.” She cleared her throat. “I don’t know how you did it, Kesa. You lost both your parents at the same time and you weren’t much older than I am, were you? That must have been so hard.”
“It was.” But not for all the reasons Cami thought. Kesa wasn’t going to tell her that the worst part of it had been the anger that went with it and the self-disgust for being angry—and resentful. She’d been on the verge of escaping her parents’ chaos. No more sudden relocations and never answering the door because bill collectors were the most frequent visitor. She had enrolled at the community college and had even lined up a bed in a three-way share of a dorm-style apartment. Finally the money she earned taking in alterations would be hers to keep. If she worked hard enough she might be able to give Josie a place to escape to when she was old enough.
The future had been within her grasp. It wasn’t as if they’d been big dreams that tilted at fate. They all went kaboom anyway.
Now Josie wanted to leave her too. And Shannon…Shannon was a chance she couldn’t take again. Not that she was going to get that chance. A fancy job was going to take Shannon away. Or she’d stop answering her phone the way she had four years ago.
Kesa shook off the memories. “I think I’ll get a soda. Do either of you want one?”
Cami asked for a diet anything. Kesa found the vending area and tapped her phone against the Coke machine. Strange world, strange life. On the outside, she had a phone and credit cards and a career that was getting better every day. On the inside, she was a great big maw of emptiness that no amount of ice cream would ever fill.
There were no answers in the soda, but the doctor’s short visit and a longer visit from a nurse who knew Marisol did a lot to ease her worry about Auntie Ivy. She was low on potassium and her blood thinner was working a little too well, causing the “event.” Cami was all smiles when they allowed her to go back to see her grandmother, who would be released tomorrow pending good test results in the morning. Cami could even stay with her overnight in the same room if she wanted to. Which she did.
Kesa and Marisol shared a ride back to the apartment complex, and then Kesa walked home the way she usually would have, though a little later. The orange sunset deepened to indigo, which reflected her mood. The music from the spontaneous street parties and colors of the bright murals felt as if they were behind a thick veil of scratchy gauze. The dark velvet of the sky was mottled with moving red and white lights. Some people’s lives were unbound from gravity. She could stretch toward heaven, but she still didn’t know if her fingers would ever touch the sky.
At the last streetlight before home her phone chirped and she stared dumbfounded at the message.
“We have to talk. Soon please, it’s urgent.”
It was probably about Josie and Paz, Kesa thought. Without thinking it through, she sent back, “I’ll stay late at my workshop tomorrow night,” and included the address.
The import of what she’d done hit her as she crossed the street. She would have memories of Shannon in her workshop now. She should change it to a coffee shop or parking lot, anywhere but the place that had absolutely no associations with heartbreak. Would that seem as if she were a coward, afraid to be alone with Shannon?
She stared at her phone and couldn’t make up her mind what to do. An onslaught of bone-jarring vibration from a passing car jolted her into moving again. Sketches, she thought. You have to do Jennifer Lamont’s sketches. Focus on the work, and you’ll get through this.
It would have helped if she’d had a clue what “this” actually was.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Kesa’s workshop wasn’t hard to find. The neighborhood was a mix of houses and small commercial buildings, ranging along wide streets that slowly pitched upward toward Elysian Park and Dodger Stadium. Shannon might have even passed by the building years ago on her way to a meeting of intelligence analyst counterparts hosted at the LAPD academy.
All day sh
e had toyed with the idea of running away to Seattle, even though there had been no follow-up yet from Integrity Investigations. There were too many knots in her world now. It would be simplest to cut them all and blame it on a new job. Yet here she was. She wished she were certain that she was acting out of concern for Paz and Josie and not because she wanted to see Kesa again.
She supposed it was a mixture of the two, not that that made anything better. She ought to be talking to Paz, not Josie’s sister. She was powerless to turn the car around, though.
A warm blanket of early evening settled on Shannon as she parked and got out of the car. The sun was hot enough to welcome the shady parking spot. A startled pigeon flew into the nearby bushes, its outrage fading into the persistent surf-like roar of traffic on Glendale Boulevard. The mouthwatering aroma of hot, fresh bread wafted over her from the bakery on the corner.
She told herself to relax into it, but how could she with one foot in the past and no certainty about the future? She’d met Kesa on a Friday night that was still blistering hot in her memory. They’d spent Saturday night proving that the magic hadn’t been a one-time thing.
Then Sunday. Sunday had been full of golden sunshine and easy laughter, softness and tangled sheets, all eclipsed by the bright light in Kesa’s eyes.
Then ashes. Now acid. And all her fault, for being a coward.
If you want forgiveness, an inner sarcastic voice pointed out, you could apologize. That never made anything worse, you know.
The past has nothing to do with the very urgent present, she argued back. If Paz and Josie were planning to elope, she and Kesa needed to find a way to move forward. They couldn’t stop the nuptials, not if the two young people remained committed to it. As far as Shannon was concerned their choice was not really a choice at all: support them or lose them. She didn’t want to lose Paz in her life, but the idea of open warfare with Kesa over it was untenable as well.
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