by Gina LaManna
“So, are you going to tell me this is that whole ‘set someone free if you love them and see if they come back?’”
“Of course not,” Nora said, a light laugh tinkling in the quiet hallway. “It’s the whole ‘let Meg calm down and think for a second, then slap this on her desk and tell her to shape up and be your friend.’”
I laughed, though it didn’t last long. Biting my lip, I met Nora’s gaze. “No offense, Nora. But what if the test was wrong?”
“It’s not.”
“But what if—”
“It’s not,” Nora said. “And it doesn’t matter, regardless. Growing up is hard, and there will be some bumps in the road. You’ll have to change and adapt together.”
“But she doesn’t want to change and adapt. She said so, pretty bluntly.”
“Change is hard. A lot of people resist it.” A complex expression crossed Nora’s face. “It’s only in hindsight that sometimes we see it’s for the better. That something we thought might be a change for the worse is actually an opportunity for us to grow.”
“I see that now, I think. But Meg doesn’t.”
“It’s not hindsight yet for Meg. You’re the one with a new, exciting relationship, and you’ve had time to come to terms with that. It’s an exhilarating time in your life, and Meg’s worried you’ll leave her behind.”
“But I’d never do that. Never. It’s not an either/or situation, that’s what I don’t understand.”
“Her reaction isn’t logical, it’s emotional.” Nora patted my knee. “And it’s a good thing. If she didn’t care, she’d never have brought it up. She wouldn’t have noticed. Just make sure she knows you care about her, however you two show those things.”
I gave a small smile in my grandmother’s direction, an idea suddenly popping into my brain. “I know what I have to do.”
“I thought you might.” Nora stood. “Now, my knees are creaking, so I’d better stand up before I can’t stand up. It’s late, Lacey. Will Anthony be bringing you home?”
“I have to find him. He stormed out of Meg’s guard meeting because someone called him cute.”
“My, aren’t we all just a sensitive bunch around here tonight?” Nora laughed.
“Sensitive?” Anthony appeared at the far end of the hallway, showing up just in time, as usual. “I’m not sensitive.”
“Of course not, dear.” Nora extended a hand to help me up. “So be a man and take my granddaughter home. It’s late.”
Nora kissed me on both cheeks, waved goodbye to Anthony, and disappeared through the kitchen door.
“I’ll take you home under one condition.” In the distance, Anthony extended an arm and leaned against the wall.
The outline of his rather muscled physique was pleasant to look at, and I found myself drawn to him like a fly to honey. “Oh yeah?” I raised an eyebrow as I walked down the hallway. “What’s that?”
Anthony waited until I arrived, stopping a foot in front of him. “That we can come to an understanding.”
“It’s late, Anthony. I’m tired, and—”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.” Anthony pressed me against the wall, his fingers cinching tight into my hips as he whispered against my neck. “I’m not cute.”
I took a few steadying breaths. “Okay.”
He kissed my ear, dragging his lips down my neck. “And I’m not sensitive.”
“Okay,” I murmured. “Anything else?”
“No. I just needed to straighten that little misconception out before rumors spread like wildfire.” He stepped back, letting my body go as he scooped up one of my hands in his, our fingers locked tight.
I smiled as he led me down the hallway.
“What’s so funny?” he asked. “I see you smirking over there.”
“I’m not smirking, I’m happy.”
“Why are you so happy?”
I gave him a surprised face. “Isn’t walking next to you reason enough?”
Anthony waited a moment. “No.”
I sighed as we stepped into the grand entryway. “I have to admit, I lied to you.”
“About what?”
I got ready to run. “You are a little bit cute.”
I dodged out of his way, but Anthony was much faster. He swooped me up in his arms, my shrieks muffled by his hand over my mouth as he carried me down the hall. “That’s what you get.”
“Children, children,” Harold said, approaching from his door post. “Leave some things to the imagination. Your cuddles aren’t for the public eye!”
“Don’t you ever sleep, Harold?” I asked.
“No, ma’am.”
“Wow. Impressive.” I nodded. “Well, we’ll be off, then.”
Anthony stood still, with me still cradled in his arms. He made no signs of moving.
I lightly tapped his head. “Uh...giddyup.”
Anthony’s lips turned into a straight line.
I gave another noggin tap. “Yip, yip? Mush?”
Anthony turned his burning gaze on me. “Try that one more time, and see where it gets you.”
I gave a sheepish expression. “Feel like putting me down, then?”
“No.” Anthony marched right past Harold, right down the hallway, and right towards my car. I wondered if he’d keep right on walking until we got home.
But he didn’t.
And when we got home, he made sure I knew that cute and sensitive were not words to describe him.
I plead the fifth to any and all details of how he might’ve done such a thing.
Chapter 20
“WHAT DO YOU THINK?” I asked the next morning, stepping out of the bathroom and opening the door to my bedroom.
Anthony rolled over, peeling one eye open. “I don’t know. I can’t see you, since you’re hiding behind the door.”
I sighed. “Because it’s not the greatest costume in the world.”
“Well, I can’t tell you what I think if you only stick your head in here. I can’t see your body.”
Glancing down at my outlandish attire, I gave another exaggerated sigh before stepping all the way into my room, slamming the door behind me. I’d just die if Clay witnessed my flowing purple vest or my puffy pants at this hour of the morning.
Anthony took a long moment to study the sight, surveying my outfit from head to toe.
“So?” I spun in a circle. “What do you think?”
“Why is it,” he asked, sliding to a sitting position on my bed, “that I’m dating the only woman in the world who feels like dressing up as a man on Halloween?”
“It’s for Meg.” I posed, sticking an arm behind my head and a hip out wide. “I’m Aladdin.”
“I know who you’re trying to be,” Anthony said. “I’m just wondering what’s wrong with you two going as sexy French maids or something.”
“My friendship with Meg is more important.” I turned my lip down. “She wants to be Jasmine.”
“I’m not arguing about your friendship, I’m just saying that most girls take this as an opportunity to...well, you know.” Anthony shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “Dress like they normally wouldn’t.”
“I’m not most girls.” I put both my hands on my hips. “I don’t have to wear a skimpy outfit if I don’t want.”
“Of course not.” Anthony extended his arms. “Come here. I like that you’re different. Bring it in here, Aladdin.”
I scrunched my nose. “That sounds really strange.”
“Yes, it does.” Anthony’s face turned red, a vein now apparent in his forehead. “I’m going to get out of here before I dig myself a deeper hole.”
“No, you don’t have to leave.”
“I have something to do.”
“Really, like what?”
“Something.” Anthony glanced around the room. “Something like...uh, work.”
“Sure. Okay then, cutie.”
Anthony narrowed his eyes. “I thought I told you last night that I’m not cute—”
I
interrupted, throwing myself into his arms and hugging him tight. “I’m just kidding. Will I see you this afternoon?”
Anthony relented, stroking my hair with his fingers. “Yes. I’ll go through the estate and make sure everything’s set up as we planned, make sure the word is circulating about the item being moved tonight.”
“Thank you,” I said, leaning my head against his chest. “And don’t forget your zombie costume. I’ll meet up with you at the kickoff meeting Meg’s scheduled with all the guards to go over positions before the Haunted House begins.”
“No costume.”
“You need a costume.”
“I’m not a zombie.”
“Actually, I have an idea...” I winked. “May I bring you a costume?”
“Not a chance.” Anthony shook his head before I could tell him what I had in mind. “I don’t like the sound of that.”
“Jeesh, you didn’t even give me an opportunity to explain.” I shook my head, stepping back from his embrace and meeting his eyes. “It’s manly, this costume. Real tough, I promise.”
“It has to be more manly than your costume, Aladdin.” He grimaced. “There’s no way I’m dressing cuter than my girlfriend.”
“Oh, it is.” I smiled. “You’ll see.”
Chapter 21
AFTER SAYING GOODBYE to Anthony, putting together a frosted toaster strudel and a sugar bomb coffee so sweet my teeth ached just from the scent of it, I meandered out into the living room.
Clay and Veronica sat next to each other on the couch, close enough to make me do a double take.
“Hand check!” I said, curling up on the armchair across from Clay’s seat.
“Ha, ha,” Clay said, his eyes never once looking up from the computer. “Veronica says to go away.”
“Does Veronica pay rent on this apartment?”
Clay blinked. “I could ask you the same thing.”
I leaned back against the seat, considering the best way to ask for a favor. In the end, I decided to be blunt. “Could you help me with something?”
“What’s that?”
“I need a fourth person to go in on our Halloween costume.”
“Oh.” Clay looked up for the first time at me. “That’s not what I expected you to ask.”
“I’m full of surprises.” I grinned. “But seriously, would you?”
“What sort of costume?”
“Just show up at Nora’s around four today, and I’ll get you dressed and ready to go.”
“No.”
“It’s not for me, it’s for Meg.”
Clay looked slightly more interested. Then he looked at my Aladdin costume, and wrinkled his nose. “On a scale of one to ten, how embarrassed would I be wearing this thing you’ve got planned?”
I considered that for a moment. “Well, I’m at about a ten level right now, wearing this Aladdin jazz. A level ten means that I’ll probably never show my face around the estate ever again after today. So on that scale with ten being almost dead and zero being not embarrassed at all, that puts you right about...let’s say a six.”
“At that point, just make it a ten for me, too,” Clay mumbled. “I don’t want to show my face ever again around that place.”
“It’s for Meg,” I reiterated, latching onto the one person who consistently held Clay’s attention.
“You know, I did make a little something that might be fun to wear today.”
“Is it an invention?”
Clay nodded, ignoring my gaze. “It’s an extension of one that you’ve seen already.”
“Oh, that reminds me. I have your bulletproof bra.”
“Oh, snap. You grabbed the wrong box?”
“Unfortunately.”
Clay whistled. “Bet the teacher wasn’t too happy.”
“No, but she was distracted by Anthony’s chest, so it worked out okay.”
“Who can blame her? Heck, I’m distracted by Anthony’s chest.”
I frowned at my cousin. “Not appropriate, Clay.”
His cheeks turned a bit pink. “What happened between you and Meg, anyway? She stormed in here the other day and waltzed off with a box from your room. Said it was a gift from Nora and you’d stolen it from her.”
“Well I didn’t steal it. I was going to give it to her, but she wasn’t speaking to me. It was just a box of old costume supplies that Nora kept on hand. You know her – sparkles, glitter, fishnet stockings up the wazoo.”
“Meg’s wearing fishnet stockings?” Clay looked as if I’d just given him tickets to Comic Con.
I shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. Like I said, she’s not talking to me.”
“Why?”
“I got stuck on an assignment the other night and showed up sort of late for our drinks date...” I trailed off. “It sounds stupid when I say it out loud.”
“Yeah, sorta.”
“There’s something else going on,” I said. “I have my suspicions, but she won’t admit what’s bothering her.”
“Is it – do you think she’s...?” Clay wiggled his hands back and forth, as if unsure how to phrase what he wanted to ask.
It took me a moment to figure out what he meant. “Are you asking if she’s PMS-ing?”
Clay’s ears turned red as a rose.
“Clay! Not all fights start because girls are hormonal.”
“Just most of them?” he squeaked.
“Clay!”
“Sorry.” He paused, his eyes glancing at rapid-fire speed between me and his computer. “And are you, by chance...?”
“Clay!”
“Sorry.” He shrugged, his eyes glancing shiftily towards Veronica. “I just wanted to check. Hey, how did show and tell go, by the way?”
“I told you, I brought the bulletproof bra instead of the lasers. I failed.”
“But didn’t they love the invention?” Clay’s eyes widened. “I mean, it is one of a kind.”
“Yeah, it’d have to be with the size of those cups. You think a normal woman can fill that thing out?”
“Maybe it’s not made for a normal woman.”
“Well, I wouldn’t know because you didn’t tell me why you made it, or who you made it for.”
“Never mind.” Clay rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “Did you find anything out at the school?”
Suddenly, I remembered. The envelope.
Between focusing all my attention on Meg yesterday, trying to get her to talk, decorating the house, and then getting the setup plan rolling, I’d completely blanked. Then Anthony had taken me home on a mission to prove he was neither cute nor sensitive, and in achieving his goals, I forgot about the envelope.
“I have a name.” It came out in a surprised gasp. “I completely forgot about it.”
“Well?” Clay asked. “Are you going to tell me what it is?”
“It’s in my room.” I started to stand, then sat back down, frozen with indecision.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m not sure if I want to open it.”
“Why not?”
I peered up at my cousin. “Because I’m almost thirty. I’ve survived this long without him. Why should I muck things up now?”
“Because you didn’t know who he was before, or where he lived, or how to get in contact with him. And you also didn’t have the resources to figure it out.”
I hesitated. “What if I don’t like what I find in that envelope?”
Clay’s expression turned uneasy. “I don’t know what to tell you, Lacey. That’s a risk. You know the risks, and only you can decide.”
“Why is everybody saying that?” I asked, my voice rising as I stood up. “Can’t someone just tell me what to do for once?”
“No.” Clay got to his feet, matching me gaze to gaze. “It’s your life. It’s your decision.”
“Yeah, well I want someone to make it for me.”
“Then go open the envelope.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” I snapped.
“You can’t have it b
oth ways, Lacey.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but I couldn’t come up with anything good. Turning, I stomped out of the room, angry, with no one to blame but myself.
“I’m here, waiting, whenever and whatever you decide,” Clay called after me.
I softened my stomps. Luckily, Clay and I were the type of cousins who understood when the other was being unreasonable. Right now, I was the unreasonable one. I’d apologize later, once I’d taken some time to think. My mind was too full right now, and I needed space. Time. I needed to think.
Once in my room, I realized that the note would most likely still be in my pants pocket from yesterday. I’d thrown my clothes in the laundry bin, but thankfully, I didn’t make a habit of having a “laundry day” until I was plumb out of underwear. Since I still had plenty of pairs left, my hamper lay untouched, and I found the envelope unharmed, right where I’d left it.
Holding the paper as gently as I might a newborn kitten, I sat on my bed and cradled it, running through the pros and cons of opening it. I’d sat there for many minutes, mentally listing the top reasons why I should, and why I shouldn’t, crack the seal on the envelope.
One major pro: Family. As nuts as the Luzzi clan might be, I never once doubted that my quality of life had improved since finding my grandparents. I hadn’t realized it at first, but something Nora said yesterday stuck with me. What if, in the very, very large off chance that Anthony and I worked out, we decided to get married? What if someday the two of us – scary as it might be – had children of our own?
Nora and Carlos, my own grandparents, had been a well-kept secret my entire life. Though I understood my mother’s logic for keeping us separate, a part of me felt that it wasn’t fair she’d made the choice for me. I had no doubt that my mother’s intentions had been golden. She’d wanted only the best for me, and the best in her mind was a life away from the Luzzi clan.
Yet here I was, fully integrated in that very same family now. My mind drifted, wondering what it might’ve been like to grow up with Clay, running around and making nonsense inventions, having sleepovers with cousins, the things normal families do. I might’ve been there when Nicky’s children were born. Maybe Nora would’ve come to my spelling bee in eighth grade, instead of proudly touting the certificate fifteen years after the fact.