“I didn’t know,” Josie whispered. Clearing her throat, she went on, “You always seemed mad at them. I thought it was because they died. But they left you in a bad place. Financially.”
“You think I’m all about the money? That’s all I care about?” She tried to take the anger out of her tone. “I could have been like them and kept running. Pulling you out of schools, back and forth across district lines. Evaded Child Services, I suppose, and lied my way through credit card applications.”
Josie actually laughed a little. “That is so not you.”
Kesa blinked back more tears. “The only reason I was going to college was that I’d found a few sources of sewing on my own and I did it at school during lunch so Mom never knew. I was afraid she’d take it.”
“I didn’t know you were going to college.”
Kesa pushed away the image of a path not taken. The one she was on was finally hopeful and steadier every day. “I was going to take real design classes. I might have learned how to sketch. There’s still time. We’ll see.”
Josie took a tissue while Kesa studied the faded woodgrain of the table. After a sniff, Josie asked, “Is that why sometimes it seemed like you hated me?”
Pierced by Josie’s words, Kesa buried her face in her hands, unable to hold back the flood. “I’m so sorry,” she managed to gasp. “I never, ever hated you. I was trying to do the best I could.”
Josie put her arm around Kesa and they rocked for a while. Kesa finally was able to add, “I resented you sometimes. I’m not a saint. I’ve been so angry at them, for so long. Because you and I were afterthoughts, every day. Especially you. I could stand on my own two feet, but you were a child. I didn’t want to leave you, but I thought if I made good I could be there for you too. Something solid you could count on.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“None of it was your fault. Not one bit.”
“If it wasn’t my fault, it wasn’t yours either, Key. But you got stuck with it.”
“Life isn’t fair.”
Kesa felt a half-laugh ripple through Josie’s chest before Josie let go of her. “So you have often told me. I really didn’t know any of this.”
“I didn’t want you to know. Only that life wasn’t easy for us and anything we had we’d have to work for. Any advantage we could get we’d have to take, short of stealing it.”
Josie suddenly went rigid. “Oh!”
“What?”
“I remember something. One of the social worker people had dropped by and I remember you getting out that box you used to keep money in and showing a book to her. You said something about how when the box was getting low you knew you had to get even more work in. I hadn’t realized that before. After that I would peek in the box sometimes, to make sure there was money. But I remember after the woman had left, you kicked over the chair she’d been sitting in.”
Oh, that one. “I remember. Vividly. It scared you and I felt terrible.”
“Why did you do that? General frustration?”
“No. She thought I was a hooker—that’s where the cash came from. Said it out loud, that I was a young Asian girl with fancy clothes and makeup, like there couldn’t be any other reason I might want to dress and look nice. Men would pay, she said, the implication being that of course I’d let them. That I was letting them. If she had any proof, she said, she’d take you away.”
Josie stiffened with outrage. “And that she had no proof couldn’t be because there was no proof?”
“I know. Seriously, right?” I could have told her some of this sooner, Kesa thought. It’s not as if a light had gone off telling her that Josie was ready to hear the truth. “That was even after I explained that my appearance was a walking billboard for taking in more and more complicated projects that paid better. She smirked and agreed I was a walking ‘something.’ I was wearing careful copies I’d made myself of clothes that rich white girls were wearing in TV shows. And she told me I looked like a prostitute. Only she said ‘geisha’ like I was Japanese and she understood what the word meant.”
Josie let out a harsh, believing/not-believing laugh. “That’s some racist shit.”
“There were plenty of them—and other people too—who didn’t say it, but I knew they were thinking it. I know the social workers must have dealt with really terrible situations and saw all kinds of parents who did horrible things to their kids. But that wasn’t me. I felt like they were blind to how hard I was trying. It felt like—” She paused to wipe her nose with a tissue. “It felt like nobody saw or appreciated anything I did, ever.”
Josie held her tissue against her eyes. “You hid a lot of it from me.”
“You were a kid, Jo-Jo, and that was my job. When you got into UCLA it was because of your hard work, I know that. But for me it was as if the universe finally told me I’d done good. That’s why I’m so scared now, I guess.”
“My life is not about you.”
It sounded like Josie’s usual defiance, but there was a plea in it that made Kesa’s heart ache. “I know. But it is. So that’s one thing, and I promise I will work hard at letting go.”
Josie sighed. “So what’s the ‘but’ I know you’re going to say?”
“But, but, but.” Kesa couldn’t help the flash of childishness. “I know that you believe you fell in love at first sight or something. But you want to base your entire future on that always being true. Crap happens—and I don’t mean you or Paz stop being in love,” she added quickly as Josie bristled. “I mean that bad things happen. You could find yourself the sole wage earner, supporting both of you. Sometimes kids happen whether you mean them to or not. And then you’re a woman whose skin isn’t white supporting an entire family. If that happens and you didn’t finish school your options will be much, much harder.”
“School isn’t a guarantee life will be any easier or fairer, and besides—”
“Without it you’re guaranteed the hard road, all the way.”
“And besides, I’m going to finish school.” Josie pushed back from the table, but she didn’t immediately get up. “You can stop worrying about that. It’s as important to him as it is to me.”
Kesa thought about all the women she’d heard of who had agreed to take a break from their college plans so that the man could finish his degree first and then were left with neither when he got the degree and decided he loved someone or something else. Paz didn’t seem like that at all, but how could she be sure? The anxiety in her brain wouldn’t let go. What if Paz got killed at a traffic stop? What if one of them was maimed in a shooting at school or a concert or just walking around? Or killed in a car accident like their parents?
“We both know that accidents happen. That’s all I’m trying to say. Please don’t think it can’t happen to you.”
“I know it can. I’m choosing to live like it won’t. Because I don’t want to live like—” Josie bit back what she was going to say.
Kesa finally looked at Josie. Her eyes were puffy and nose red. She looked so young. “You don’t want to live like me.” Good lord, what would Josie ever make of her boring, careful sister saying “I love you” to Shannon after knowing her less than two days? Part of her still couldn’t believe she’d said it. It had been true, though. The way she’d felt had been real.
She pushed away the little voice asking why she was using past tense. “You won’t have responsibilities like mine, you know.”
“Not at first. I understand better than I did. What you—what you managed to do. Against some heavy odds. I’m grateful,” she hurried on. “I really am. I’m sorry if it seems like I’m not. Paz says that gratitude is complicated. I think…” Josie took a deep breath. “I’ll think about that.”
With a gulp of fear, Kesa pleaded, “Please don’t elope.”
The chair clattered backward as Josie shot to her feet. “How did you know? Shannon?”
“She accidentally overheard you. We’re both just trying to help. If you’re determined to go ahead, you don’t ha
ve to run away to do it. Okay?”
Josie turned her back but otherwise didn’t move. Kesa could tell Josie wanted to storm into her room and slam the door to end this confrontation like so many others. But she didn’t.
As calmly and carefully as she could manage, with her heart pounding and throat so tight she almost couldn’t breathe, Kesa said, “If you guys came up with a plan we could talk about how to help. Not take over. Help, when you need us to.”
“When did you two get so chummy?”
A searing memory of her knees between Shannon’s thighs stole her voice for a moment. That was one secret she wasn’t going to let go of—not right now, at least. “We just want to help,” she repeated.
Without looking back Josie went into her room. She didn’t slam the door, and Kesa would take what hope she could from that.
She had no clue what Josie was going to do next. She wanted to tell Shannon what had happened, but what could that possibly change?
Nothing, she thought. Except it would likely make her feel better to talk to Shannon. She wanted a hug in the worst way. Her brain quickly migrated from hugs to kisses to the sound of her clothes falling to the floor.
She smacked the side of her head like a TV that wouldn’t tune a station, but the ultra-high-definition images went right on playing, complete with Dolby surround sound.
Chapter Thirty
“You stand there like a block of stone.”
Kesa’s bitter words wouldn’t stop echoing in Shannon’s head. She was more than halfway down a large glass of pinot noir when Paz stumbled out of his bedroom looking as numb as Shannon felt. She thought she knew the look—too much reading, thinking, screen time, typing. But this time she was wrong.
He squared his shoulders and pointed an accusing finger. “You told Kesa that Josie and I were going to elope?”
Whoa! Shannon thought. That came around way faster than she had thought it would. “I overheard you and I quite literally didn’t know what to do.”
He bounced on his toes. “How about talking to me, metiche?”
The lad asked good questions, darn it. She ought to have gone right to his room and apologized. Instead she was a little tipsy and ridiculously close to tears. She set aside the files she hadn’t been reading anyway. “I really need some ice cream.”
“Shit, Shannon.”
“Language,” she warned.
“Josie is really upset. Her sister told her all this stuff about their parents Josie never knew, and it totally explains a lot. But mostly she’s upset that you eavesdropped when it’s not your life. And I am too.”
“She’s right. You’re both right, and I apologize to you. And I will apologize to her.” Shannon pulled the salted caramel gelato out of the freezer. “Want some?”
“Stop acting like this isn’t a big deal.” He glanced at the container and his shoulders relaxed. “And yes.”
“It is a big deal.” She swallowed down the lump in her throat as she busied herself with the scoop and two bowls. “I was embarrassed that I’d eavesdropped. It was unintentional, but I should have let you know I was there or walked away. I’m really sorry.” She tossed the empty carton into the compostables bin and handed him his generously filled bowl. “Please don’t elope.”
“I don’t want to, not really.”
They both had a large spoonful of ice cream and shared very similar sighs of relief. Shannon let another spoonful melt in her mouth as she returned to her corner of the sofa while Paz hovered near the sliding glass door, looking out at the backyard. “Why do you think you have to?”
“Lots of things, but one is it’ll be easier to rent an apartment if we’re married.”
She felt the beginnings of brain freeze and slowed down the deep gelato dive. “What happened to the plan of maybe renting from me?”
He looked puzzled that she’d ask. “Well, if you’re moving to Seattle—”
Shannon shook her head in surprise. “Who said I was moving to Seattle?”
“Job offer?”
“Which I don’t even have yet. And I’m not likely to take.”
His gaze unfocused as if he was searching the logic path that had made him draw a wrong conclusion. “But it would be a lot of money. You sounded like you were pleased about it.”
Damn, she hadn’t realized what the possibility would do to Paz’s outlook on his own plans. “I’m flattered by it, sure. But I like living in LA. Being near you has been important to me. It still is.”
“Okay.” His gleaming eyes focused on her again. “But you didn’t seem all that open to us renting from you.”
“That’s because I’m not.” She pointed her spoon at him in response to his “See?” expression. “Not if it enables you rushing into something you haven’t thought through. Paying the bills is not the only reason to be patient.”
He began his usual process of stirring the gelato into an even softer texture. “So what are the other reasons?”
She considered how much she should admit to insecurities and issues that were not his problem. “At first, when I met Josie, in the coffee shop, I didn’t know if she was who she said she was.”
Clearly exasperated, Paz rolled his eyes. “Did you run a background check on her?”
“No. But I wanted to.” She had another bite of gelato and added sullenly, “I didn’t know her last name at first.”
“Why would you want to? You keep telling me I’m safe.”
“You are. I’m suspicious and afraid of my own shadow. So sue me.”
“So that’s the way you are. What are you going to do about it?”
She narrowed her eyes to let him know she didn’t appreciate having words she’d said to him thrown back at her. The little shit, he was too smart for his own good. “I’m going to drink my wine and finish my ice cream.”
His smug expression suggested that he knew he had the upper hand, at least for now. “I went to see Gia the other day.”
His foster mother? Surprised, though she acknowledged that she shouldn’t be, Shannon asked, “How was she?”
“Fine. Not much has changed. She was really glad to see me and appreciated knowing that I’d been okay after that night.”
“She deserved to know.” Her heart went into overtime even as she told herself he was safe, everything was fine.
“She said that at no point has anyone ever come asking about me.”
“That’s a relief.”
“Kind of. It does mean my family really never did look for me.”
Some friend she was. She’d forgotten that he could still be hurt by the way he’d been abandoned. “I am sorry about that.”
“I know you are. I thought I was over it.”
“Funny how the past can reach up and slap you. Stuff that wasn’t your fault. Decisions other people made.” She stared into her bowl, wondering how it had become so empty and so quickly. “And mistakes you made.”
He flopped into the overstuffed chair opposite her. “I don’t think I made any mistakes with my family. They dumped me at a church when I was four.”
“No you didn’t, and yes they did. Sorry. I wasn’t talking about you.”
“You’ve made mistakes that have come back to slap you?”
He sounded ironic enough to earn another narrow gaze. She set down her bowl and had another swallow of wine, which she instantly regretted. The lingering taste of the gelato did not lend itself to a plummy bouquet with notes of oak and peach. “Yes, I have made mistakes, some shitty ones.”
“Language!”
She stuck her tongue out at him.
“You didn’t answer my question. What are the other reasons for us to wait to get married, now that you know Josie isn’t looking to pop a cap in my head?”
“What if you fall out of love as fast as you fell into it?”
“Does love work that way?”
“I don’t know about love at first sight.” She heard the lie and this time she couldn’t ignore it. “Look, I fell hard and fast for someone
once. It was scary and I couldn’t keep it together.”
“Well, that explains a lot. That’s you, not me.”
“I know.” She thought of Kesa’s rejection. You stand there like a block of stone. Go ahead and leave. “People do fall out of love. Marriage makes falling out of love very messy. You’re both thinking about it as the ultimate expression of love, but it’s also a contract with legally binding aspects. You thought about the contract UCLA offered you. You went over all of it, really carefully. Have you done that for marriage? Car insurance, cell phone plans, health care decisions, responsibility for her actions and debts, joint bank accounts—”
“I get it, okay?” Paz sat up straight. “I did think about it before I proposed. I have a lot riding on the next couple of years. Well, so does she. We’re both hanging on, hoping that life will let us have a shot and make a difference before the planet melts. I am stronger with her. And I feel like a hero when I have her back.”
Shannon let out a breath as if he’d punched her. “Where did you learn that?”
“What?”
“How to be so fucking brave?”
He threw back his head and laughed. “Language!”
“Shit.”
He laughed harder and she found herself helplessly joining him. Later, staring at the ceiling in the dark for what felt like the umpteenth night in a row, his words came back to her the way that truth does, and she couldn’t shake them out of her head. Another idea had occurred to her, too, and she wished she’d thought of it before going to bed.
She finally turned the light back on and considered reading. Instead, she went to her dresser and pulled open the drawer with bras and underwear. Searching by touch all the way to the back, behind even the bra with the sprung wire she ought to have thrown away, her fingers finally touched the small box.
Back in bed she set the box on her chest and thought about opening it. She’d seen it twice in the past four years. Once when moving to Portland and once when moving back. She had told herself it was a useful reminder of how crazy she had been. Crazy in love.
Because when Kesa said “I love you” she had been about to say it herself. The idea that what she felt might truly be real was incomprehensible. It was daft. Certifiable. Truly crazy in love. All at once her aunt’s lifetime of predicting nothing good could ever come out of dreams had stopped the words in her throat.
Because I Said So Page 18