Summary: Heh, heh, heh…
Author’s Note: Drama? Yes, please.
“Damn, girl, you’ve got a ton of shit packed up in this tiny space,” Anna griped, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. She fanned herself, flapping out the collar of her baggy tee. “We’re not even half done!”
“I made a Goodwill run the other day,” Ororo argued as she rolled a wine glass up in a piece of bubble wrap. “There’s less stuff here than there was before.”
“That sounds like a tall tale. There ain’t more stuff anywhere than there is here right now, girl.” Anna waved futilely toward the sea of boxes flooding Ororo’s living room. “This is gonna take all day.”
“Ali and Cain are coming,” Ororo told her placatingly. “More hands will help.”
“Good, because I ain’t haulin’ that couch downstairs.”
“Cain can practically handle that himself.”
“I would’ve helped ya hire a mover.”
“You’ve done enough subletting my place for me these past few months, Anna.”
“Your plants have missed ya. I ain’t got a brown thumb, ‘Roro, but they haven’t been as happy with ya out of town. That spider fern of yours is droopy.”
“Aw. Poor babies.” Ororo felt wistful as she scanned her apartment. She’d attempted to make it comfy, but it was never home. Not really. There was nothing keeping her there. She wouldn’t miss the noisy garbage disposal or the weird brown rust water stains around her bathroom ceiling. She wouldn’t miss her proximity to the subway tunnels and the noisy commuter traffic, because she’d be taking it with her, damn the luck. Ororo spoke to a property company about one of the few units she could afford in a crumbling old brownstone, mere blocks from Central Park.
This place lacked warmth. She seldom entertained there. She hadn’t built her family there. Her dreams didn’t live within these walls, and her future had itchy feet. She couldn’t see herself staying for so little…
She’d packed up her photo albums already, including Nate’s baby album. She felt a bubble of regret over the trip she’d made to the Fed Ex store a few days ago to mail Stevie the box of maternity clothes; it was like Murphy’s law. The morning sickness was off the hook. Ororo could seldomly hold anything down. One wrong smell, and she threw up. Watching someone eat something her stomach didn’t agree with, and she threw up. Taking the stairs too fast made her throw up. The shaky rumble of the subway made her throw up. Remembering her last encounter with Logan and the disappointment and anger in his eyes made her queasy and depressed.
Every breath she took held his scent. She heard the low rasp of his voice in her ear when she succumbed to sleep and first woke, hating to deal with the day without him. Her body remembered the snug cradle of his arms and welcoming heat. She didn’t feel whole.
She called her OB/GYN, Dr. Reyes, and set up a checkup, wincing when her receptionist asked her how Victor was doing. It had been so long since she’d even gone for so much as an exam. Ororo couldn’t stand the office with its cheery art prints of women holding babies, much like the neonatal ward of the hospital. It evoked too many memories, so many of them bitter. Her arms only held her child once, and they’d stayed empty far too long.
She didn’t want to hope too fast or hard, but the little spark occupying her abdomen wouldn’t be ignored, nor, to her dismay, would it be unloved. She wanted it more than air, more than her life, and it scared her to feel that strongly so soon. She’d gazed down at her belly, running a cautious hand over it. “Why now?” she asked it, then sighed. “Why him?” Some low, matter-of-fact voice inside of her demanded, “Why not him?” She ran down a mental list of why not’s.
They drove each other nuts. He was stubborn. He loved to argue with her. He jumped to conclusions. He was possessive. He had no sense of decorum when it came to public places, including a weird fixation with pulling her into closets… or his office… or her office, for that matter. He was a loose cannon. She’d never be able to fit into the mold his wife had been cast from, and Ororo sure as hell didn’t want to try. He was just so… demanding, and constantly up in her grill…
And attentive. Tender. Funny. Outrageous. Outspoken. Rugged. Masculine. Comfortable. Yummy. Wait… those weren’t faults. She was supposed to be summing up his faults. What the heck was wrong with her? She bickered with that voice throughout the day as she packed. That voice needed a swift smack…
She finished packing the rest of her clothing into her black leather suitcase set and wheeled the luggage into the living room with the rest of the boxes. Anna was in the kitchen, packing up her nonperishable foods and marking them with a Sharpie. “Call up Cain and tell ‘im to bring some coffee. Tell him I want an iced vanilla latte with whip.”
“You didn’t have any before you came over? I’m sorry, girl. I’d have kept my coffee pot out if I’d known.”
“We’ll blame it on pregnancy brain,” Anna assured her, elbowing her. Ororo sighed heavily and threw up her hands, shaking her head. “Aw, ‘Ro. We’ll figure this out.” She hugged her, and Ororo clung to her, wishing she had the answers.
“This is nuts. This is a mess.”
“You could stick it out.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“Tory, yer makin’ it harder than it needs ta be.” Anna pulled back and rubbed her arms soothingly. “This ain’t high school. Yer a grown woman, upwardly mobile, able to pay the bills and make up her own mind. It ain’t like the old days, where yer parents would’ve packed up yer bags and sent ya off ta live with a relative for a few months. Y’all had a little ‘oopsie.’ And yer not alone unless ya insist on being alone. Ya gotta tell him. Don’t keep that man in the dark.”
“Even if he wants me, what if he doesn’t want this?” Her hand cradled her belly protectively. “I want this.”
“He might, too.”
“Anna… I don’t know. If I tell him about this baby… it could drive him further away. Or, things could go the other direction altogether.”
“Meaning?” Anna folded her arms and raised her brow. Ororo hated that look, because she usually caved when Anna turned up the volume on it.
“I’d hate it if he decided he only wanted to stay with me because of the baby.”
“Oh, girl, c’mon! Seriously? Nuh-uh. No. That ain’t gonna wash.” Anna grabbed a dish towel from the counter and snapped her with it.
“Ow! Bitch! Ow!” She zapped her with the towel again, and Ororo protectively covered her hind quarters. “That didn’t tickle!”
“Ah can’t believe the bullshit I’m hearin’ outta you. Baby doll. Has he said he loves you?”
“Not in so many words.”
“What? What does that even mean? Not in so many words… was he using the queen’s English? Mime? American Sign Language? I hate it when people use that phrase. Just get to the point, Tory. Has he said he loves you.”
“Not really.” Ororo didn’t feel like describing what made it a “gray area” to her oldest friend.
“Did ya pull petals off of daisies to decide?”
“No. Get out of here with that shit. Here. Pack. Take this.” She shoved the tape roll at her and stalked off, but Anna Marie followed her.
“Some men aren’t that verbal. They’re more demonstrative.”
“He says what’s on his mind just fine. Anna, you don’t get it. He just… he kept pushing my argument back at me. I asked him if he would move away in the situation I’m in, and if my saying anything would make a difference in his decision. All he said was ‘It’s not me doing the leaving.’ That’s such bull.”
“Was that all he said?”
“No, but…” Ororo hedged. She turned away and folded her arms around her belly.
“No, but what?”
“It doesn’t matter what else he said.” Because she’d already decided it didn’t matter.
Even if it did. Somewhat.
A lot.
More than anything in the world.
Her palms felt cold and clammy, and panic seized her chest. “Anna, do me a favor and get me some water. I feel sick.”
“Comin’ up. Siddown, woman.” Anna backed off, and Ororo took a moment to hyperventilate, breathing into her hands. “Moving day’s a big day. Ya need to take a breather.” She came back with the water and sank down beside her on the couch. Ororo took a cautious gulp of the water and deepened her breaths while Anna rubbed her back.
*
“You realize she’s gonna kill me, right?”
“Tell Maddie breakfast is on me the next time you both come to New York. I’ll make it up to her for commandeering your brunch plans.”
“I’m talking about Ororo. She’ll skin me alive.”
“You offered her help. So we’re gonna go give her some help.” Logan tugged a beat-up black Body Armour tee shirt on over his head and shoved his feet into his sneakers. Scott tsked as he took a sip of his bottle of green tea.
“Should you be dragging me into the middle of this?”
“You volunteered. There ain’t no dragging involved.”
“She told me she could manage. I told her that I’d check with her landlord for a few days to see if she got any mail.”
“Then ya know where we’re going. Let’s go help her move.” Logan turned the lock on his front door with a noisy click. Scott muttered curses under his breath as they left on their errand, hating his own part in it.
He still wanted to knock their heads together. If Scott didn’t feel like he was doing it for their own good, he’d be ensconced at a patio table, deep in Maddie’s green eyes and a plate of bacon and eggs.
Scott hated helping people move.
*
Ali and Cain arrived with a Starbucks drink carrier loaded up with white cups. Ali handed Ororo the Tazo iced tea and gave her a brief hug. “Baby doesn’t like coffee.”
“She sure doesn’t,” Ororo agreed gratefully, taking a teeny sip. “It’s good.”
“Good. Take a load off. What else needs packing?”
“I already did the knick-knacks. Anna did the kitchen.”
“The junk drawer, too?”
“Ooh. No. Forgot that.”
“Cain, pack up the junk drawer. I’ll go do the bathroom.”
“Yup. That needs doing next.” Ororo headed toward her bedroom and scanned it. It already looked barren; the covers were stripped from the bed and packed up, and all of the little photos she’d had tucked into the slats of the mirror frame were put away. Her jewelry box and makeup kit weren’t overflowing across the vanity, and her bookcase was empty. Any sign that a person lived there was nearly gone.
Her father expected her to show up at the house the next morning, once she unloaded her big furniture at the storage unit. She needed to see his face, and she craved the sight and feel of home, even if it had been a dog’s age since she lived with her parents. Ororo craved those comforts and that familiarity, something that felt stable and predictable. She needed a break from drama, the daily grapevine of her office “ the New York site had its own grapevine “ and being too far away from her friends.
After a brief tea break, Ororo fell back into her packing efforts, rounding up odds and ends from drawers and cabinets, tearing off garbage bags from a roll and doing general cleanup. She ran a descaling cycle on her dishwasher and sprayed Easy-Off inside the lukewarm oven. Anna swatted her again.
“Give me that. And take those off.” She nodded to Ororo’s yellow latex cleaning gloves. “You’re in no condition to mess with that stuff. Go. Do something non-toxic.”
“You don’t have to clean my oven.”
“No. I’m protecting my future niece-slash-nephew from Mommy the Clean Freak. Go siddown.”
“I’m fine!”
“You know better than to argue with her by now, Tory.” Ali handed her the half-finished plastic cup of tea. The ice cubes were half-melted and it sweated moisture from sitting so long untouched. “Have some more.”
“Tummy doesn’t want it.”
“Have some saltines.”
“Don’t help much.”
“Pickles,” Cain suggested before assuming a wide-kneed crouch, grunting as he hefted Ororo’s Lazyboy chair.
“Ugh,” Ororo muttered. Her eyes widened as she realized his intent. “Tell me you’re not planning to take that down the steps yourself.”
“That was the plan, if one of you ladies wants to get the door,” he called back. Ali hurried ahead of him and opened it.
“Oh. Hey.” She backed out of the way, then ducked back inside the front hall. “Ororo, were you expecting company?”
“We’re not company. We’re the hired help,” Ororo heard Scott say amicably. Her pulse skipped.
“We’re not company? ‘We’ who?” she demanded as she rushed out of the kitchen. Ali grinned, turning her back on her Scott, and to Ororo’s shock, Logan. They’re hot! Ali mouthed. Ororo flushed.
“Hey.”
“Hey. Saw the big guy taking the recliner. Let’s get started on the rest of the big stuff,” Logan told her gruffly.
“I told you we could manage, Scott. You guys didn’t have to do this.” Ororo was pissed that Logan was ignoring her in lieu of a proper greeting, and she could feel his tension, a remnant from the other day. She felt rows of prickles raising up along her back. He and Scott both wore grubs, well broken-in jeans and tees, looking ready to help with the move.
“We needed to do this,” Scott corrected her as he automatically took the opposite end of the couch on Logan’s nod.
“Three,” Logan grunted, and they lifted it neatly and headed down the hallway.
“Um… okay.”
“Damn, Tory. Are all the men you work with that fine?” Anna whistled under her breath. Ororo smacked her arm.
“Quit it.”
“Scott single?”
“Last I checked, no.”
“Damn it.”
“This feels weird, now. Like, an ‘I shouldn’t be helping you pack your shit’ kind of weird. He seems pissed.” Ali stared at her. “You look pissed, too.”
“I’m fine,” Ororo said through her teeth.
“Right. She’s fine.” Ali and Anna glanced at each other and nodded. Pissed.
Yup.
Ororo tried to busy herself in the bathroom, emptying the last of the trash and cleaning the fixtures. In what seemed like no time, her loveseat, dining set, coffee table and end tables disappeared out the door. When she finished hitting the grout with a scrub brush and bleach, the largest of the boxes were gone, too. “Wow. That went fast.”
“These boys get it done,” Ali told her cheerfully. “Might have to pay them in beer.”
“No time for it. I have to get the moving truck back by tomorrow.”
“We can stop for lunch.”
“My stomach begs to differ. We can’t spend too much time dinking around. I’ll hook up with you and Cain once I get settled in, Al.”
“Hope that invite to hook up includes me and Maddie,” Scott cut in. “And this guy, if you don’t mind staring at that mug for too long.” Logan was stonefaced as he headed to her bedroom and waited by the end of the dresser.
“Hurry yer ass up, Summers.”
“I’m being summoned…”
“I appreciate it.”
“Know you do, Tory.” It surprised her to hear Scott using the nickname. He winked at her, and she smiled weakly. He knew how awkward it was for her, but they had to keep a civil front. Logan hadn’t looked her fully in the eye since they’d gotten there. The elephant in the room was trying not to stumble over her moving boxes. Ororo’s world felt like it was crashing down.
Logan was cool and efficient, and if she didn’t know better, she’d think he was rushing her ass out the door. It chafed. She made a point of moving out of his way quickly when he and Scott took her furniture toward the door, but it was difficult with so many bodies occupying her space. It was inevitable that they would begin to trip over each other, and every time they did, she felt flushed and felt brief, terse excuses escaping her lips.
*
Logan wanted to shake her. Worse, he wanted to throw Scott and the rest of her friends out, lock the door, and take Ororo back to her bedroom for a long talking-to, at the risk of yanking off her clothes and taking her until they couldn’t walk. Some impulsive voice in his head reasoned that the bed wasn’t packed into the truck yet, and that it wasn’t undoable. He smacked that voice upside the head and went back to the kitchen. “Got everything packed in here?” Ali nodded at him good naturedly.
“I made a Starbucks run earlier. You want me to pick you up anything?”
“Nah. We’re good.”
“We never met. I’m Alison.”
“Guessed by the hair.” Ali had colored her hair a deep, raspberry pink on a whim a couple of weeks ago. Ororo mentioned it while they were still on speaking terms.
“This is Cain.”
“Please ta meetcha,” he offered, and his handshake was crushing and beefy. Logan nodded to him with respect. The man was clearly besotted with Alison. She leaned back into his bulk, practically settling into him like a fur coat. Cain nuzzled the top of her head, burying his lips in those garish pink waves, and she slow-blinked in contentment.
“Scott,” his partner in crime offered, grappling with Cain a moment and nodding hellos to the girls. Logan pitied Anna Marie, who was drooling over him. As Scott bent over to grab another box, she raised her brows approvingly. Logan elbowed her briefly. Taken, he mouthed. She rolled her eyes.
“Ah can wish, can’t Ah?” she muttered under her breath. Logan shrugged and smirked. She waited for him to head toward the door with his cargo before asking openly, “She hot?”
“Smoking.”
“Shit,” she huffed with a stomp of her foot. Ali snickered. Then Anna elbowed him back.
“Are you fine with this?”
“Have I got a choice?” he deadpanned, but his humor faded to a whimper.
“Um. Yeah.”
“Don’t seem like it.”
“Squeaky wheel, shoog. Squeaky wheel.” Logan huffed, turning his back on her reasoning, and he reached for another box, but Cain stopped him.
“We’ve got the rest. You guys rock out loud. Thanks for pitching in.”
“Cain, let’s make a lunch run. I’m in the mood for Quizno’s. Anna, come with.”
“Ah could eat.” She cupped her hand around her mouth. “Tory, ya want anything?”
“I’m fine!” Ororo’s voice sounded annoyed and put-upon. “I’m not hungry. You guys go ahead.”
“Hungry?” Scott asked.
“Nah.” Logan held up his hand, shooing him off.
“I’ll be back, then. I’m grabbing a snack, and I want to call up Maddie while I’m on this side of town.” Logan felt a brief flash of guilt at taking his friend away from his date.
“G’wan.”
“Back in a few.”
“See ya, shoog!” Anna Marie called out. “Don’t work too hard.”
“Not in her condition,” Cain muttered as they headed out the door, too quickly for Ali to shush him. Her blue eyes widened in alarm, but she recovered in a flash, waving a hasty goodbye.
“What?” Logan murmured, struck dumb with confusion. The door clicked shut, and he heard several pairs of feet thudding down the stairs. “What?” he repeated. Logan scrubbed his palm over his face, feeling himself break out in a cold, clammy flush. “Tory?” he called out as he wandered back from her living room. He shoved the bathroom door open, finding her ass-up and bent over the edge of the toilet base, scrubbing the tile and porcelain. “Tory?” he demanded. “What condition?”
“What?” She peered up at him, blowing tendrils of her hair out of her eyes where they had fallen loose from her braid. She glared up at him over her shoulder at his perturbed look, and Ororo settled back on her haunches, wiping her forehead with her arm.
“What’s this condition they just said you were in?”
“Condition? What about my condition?”
“Apparently you’re in one,” Logan snapped as he leaned against the door frame, folding beefy arms over chest. “What’s that about?” The color drained from her face, and Ororo sagged, resting her weight on one hip against the cold floor tile. She shook her head.
“Shit,” she muttered. “This wasn’t how I wanted to broach the subject.”
“Ya look like hell,” he muttered, and he was there that quickly, kneeling by her side, taking the scrub brush away and chucking it into the tub. He rubbed her back, and she fought the urge to lean into him. “What subject?”
“Logan.” Her blue eyes pinned him levelly. She opened her mouth, then closed it again before she turned from him. Ororo sighed.
“Darlin’?”
“Logan, I’m… pregnant.”
Every sound around them faded to nothing, and the oxygen in the room seemed to evaporate. Logan felt his heart beat stutter and a strange pounding begin in his ears. He saw her throat work, swallowing around whatever else she had to possibly tell him. She looked up at him again, and her eyes… they didn’t lie.
“Yer what?”
“Pregnant, Logan.” She emphasized that word, annoying him that she thought he needed it spelled out.
“Pregnant, Tory.”
“And?” She met his gaze directly this time, unflinching. His hand left her back, and for an instant, she felt terrified. She stopped herself from reaching for him, though.
“When… the fuck were you gonna tell me this news?”
“I wasn’t sure.”
“Are ya sure now?” Logan covered his mouth for a moment, then met her eyes. His face held a wild look that frightened her a little. “Were ya waiting for dramatic effect? Am I the last one ta know? Because that sure as hell sounded like it out there when the big guy spilled the beans.”
“Shit.” Ororo closed her eyes futilely. “Logan…”
“Don’t ‘Logan’ me,” he croaked. “Tell me ya weren’t just gonna put a half a dozen states between us before you told me I made ya pregnant.”
“Okay.” She shrugged. “Thanks. Thanks for that. At last you said you made me pregnant.” The roaring in his ears grew louder, and his heart was pounding so hard that he had to sit down. He chose the edge of the tub, elbows propped against his knees.
“Don’t talk like that. Don’t make it sound like that, damn you. Damn you, Tory. Why. Why. Am I that much of an asshole that you had to hold it in?”
“No. That’s not it. I already made up my mind-“
“Then UNMAKE IT!” Logan shouted, slamming his fist against the tub tile. Ororo jumped, then glared at him.
“Don’t,” she hissed. His jaw worked, and she reached for him, but he flinched back.
“You know how it sounded, but ya said it, anyway. I knocked you up, Tory. And now, this is what I get. You leaving me. Not telling me.”
“Would it have made a difference?” she shot back, checking the tears that were trying to work themselves into her eyes. Her voice remained steady. “You were okay with me leaving when you woke up this morning-“
“The hell I was,” Logan told her, cutting her off.
“Sure looked like it. You and Scott beat feet with my dinette set a little while ago.”
“Bullshit. I was… I was helping out.” Logan shook his head, and he smirked, but the expression didn’t reach his eyes. “Yer killing me. Tory… God. Let’s rewind back to me telling you that I could never leave you. Tory.” Logan’s hands spread themselves as if he were searching for his point, then dropped. “Get back on yer lease. Get yer job back at this site.” Ororo stared at him, eyes full of blue fire.
“Excuse me?”
“Yes. Excuse you. You’re pregnant with my baby. You seem to think you’re leaving town with our baby inside you, and that won’t fly.”
“I won’t just be your ‘baby momma,’” she snapped.
“I didn’t tell ya to. That ain’t what I had in mind.” He pointed at her, and his eyes narrowed, piercing her soul. “You know it. That ain’t how I’m made. I would never treat ya like that, or how Vic treated you. Don’t mix me up with that bastard, Ororo Munroe.” She shook her head and opened her mouth, looking loaded for bear, but he shook his finger. “I’m. Not. Like. Vic. Understand me when I say I would never do what he did. I’m not that kind of man. I’m not that low. And I’m damned offended that you’d lump me in with the one who broke yer damned heart.”
“He wanted Nate.” Her voice was razor sharp. “He didn’t want me. Do you know how that felt? Do you?” She rose shakily, and he jumped up, closing the space between them, but she shook off his concerned hands. “No,” she hissed. “You don’t. You loved Jean. She loved you. There weren’t any maybes. No fucking secrets.”
“No. There was one secret, darlin’.” His voice and face went alarmingly blank, and that brought her up short. She leaned back against the sink, finding it difficult to look at him. She felt raw and hollow, exhaustion seeping into her bones. He rubbed out a sore spot in his shoulder and cracked his neck; she heard it pop and winced, then felt guilty that her big moving day was responsible. “It was a humdinger. I’ll give ya credit where it’s due that you told me about your ‘condition.’”
“What?” she whispered. “Logan-“
“Yeah.” He cut her off, and there was pain in his voice, even though his eyes were still devoid of empathy or any willingness to placate her. “She wasn’t the only one I lost. I found her test results in an old box of stuff her sister shipped to me.”
The tears fell, disobeying her strict injunction to stay put. “Oh, Logan…”
“Stop. Don’t. Let it sink in that I can’t let ya leave.” He stayed rooted where he was, ignoring his body’s demand that he hold her. “I can’t.” His voice calmed.
“It’s not up to you whether I stay or go.”
“Oh. Really?” He shrugged woodenly. “It’s not. Didn’t know that,” he lied.
“God…” She wiped her cheeks and rubbed her eyes, pausing there for a moment. It was so heard to see him through the blur of frustration and yellow, prickly anger and helplessness. “Is this why you came? Is this how you help me pack?”
“Not usually. It’s supposed to involve a goodbye dinner of pizza, bein’ thanked with a case of beer, and chipping in with some buds on a gas card.”
“Doesn’t involve chewing your girlfriend’s ass out?” she huffed, and Logan felt her getting wound up again.
“Tory…”
“No. No. Uh-uh. We’ll arrange something. Somehow. Logan. I have a job. I gave up my apartment. I’m not going to pressure you into whatever this is. I’m glad you want her.”
“Her?” he asked incredulously.
“Yes. I’m glad. I won’t be part of the proverbial ‘drama with my ex’ that’s the new trend with everyone I know. I don’t expect you to jump in and make me an honest woman to soothe your conscience.”
“Ho-LEE-shit,” he grumbled. “Wow. Ouch…”
“Bring cigars to the delivery room. Don’t bring a marriage license.”
It was like she slapped him. He turned on his heel and stormed out, and for several breathless moments, she could only hear the rushing in her ears drowning out the heavy thuds of his feet, punctuated by the slam of the door. Dizziness buckled her knees, and her mouth was painfully dry, throat closing on the promise of more tears.
*
She was a tearstained, hoarse mess by the time Ali, Anna and Cain came back. Scott was conspicuously absent. Anna found her first, just as she emptied the cleaning bucket into the bathroom sink. “What else needs cleaning, kiddo?”
“Just some detailing. Just enough to get my deposit back. I defrosted the fridge.”
“I’ll hit it with some Clorox,” Anna volunteered. “You okay?”
“Hell, no.”
“Right. That bad?”
“Worse. The worst.”
“Girl, I was afraid of that. Damn it. I don’t know what to say.”
“Get me home to my plants. Let’s get this day over with. I’m so tired, Anna.” Her red-rimmed eyes said it all, and Anna nodded, wordlessly hugging her again.
“Take it easy.”
“I can’t.”
“This ain’t helpin’.” Anna’s hands on her back were still soothing, urging the tension from her with gentle strokes of her hair.
“Hurts so much.”
“Always does when ya love ‘em, kiddo.”
“No,” she argued, backing away and shaking her head.
“Don’t lie ta me, shoog. Don’t lie ta him, either. God, I could knock your two heads together. Yer leaving tonight with me, when you should be going after him.”
Pride turned her back on her friend, and she gathered up her cleaning supplies, packing them into the waiting box. “Uh-uh.” Anna’s sigh was heavy.
“Y’know Ah hate this, right?”
“You’ve got my back or you don’t, Anna Marie.”
“Then Ah guess Ah’ve got yer back.” Anna headed to the hall, where the Swiffer mop leaned against the wall. “I’ll hit the ceilings and lights and knock down the cobwebs. Go eat. I brought ya back a sandwich.” Ororo’s stomach soured at the thought.
“Ugh…”
“A bite. Take a no-thank-you bite. Brought you back an apple juice, too. Don’t wear yerself down to nothin’, ‘Roro, y’hear me?” Anna leveled her with her best schoolmarm glare. “This ain’t just about you anymore.”
“Fine.”
“Fine, then,” Anna grumbled under her breath before she began dusting the ceiling corners.
*
They chatted little as they wrapped it up. Cain tied off the last garbage bag and hauled it to the dumpster. Ororo dug in her purse for her phone, which tweeted at her that she had a text. For a tense, hopeful moment, she thought it was him. She smiled weakly at Scott’s brief words, instead.
Safe travels, Ororo. Email or call when you get there.
Okay, she texted back. Another little green balloon popped up instantly,
Not just me. Don’t leave him out. Don’t leave it like this. Please.
She sighed. It was too much. Scott meant well.
I have to do this. I won’t leave him out. Thank you for today, Scott. Thank you for everything. She tucked her phone into her purse, ignoring the next two or three chirps. She couldn’t have this discussion or any more tugs at her reasoning. She unwrapped the sandwich Anna brought her with too little enthusiasm and choked down a couple of bites. She washed it down with a little juice and decided to take it with her.
“Kiddo, c’mere.” Cain appeared by her elbow and tugged her into a protective bear hug that she didn’t expect. She smothered the low “oomph” that was squished from her lungs, and yelped when Ali enveloped her from the opposite side.
“Too…much…love,” she grunted.
“Shaddap and take it,” Ali threatened. “Don’t do this. Go after him,” she whined.
“I love you, Al. I love you, Cain. Go. Start the truck.”
She locked the door, leaving behind echoing emptiness and the stench of bleach.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Did I mention I love angst? No?
I love angst.
I love angst.
Chapter End Notes:
I PROMISE I'm working on an update!!!
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