Justine huffs, and I can clearly see the scowl she’s giving Pierre in my mind. “Fine, you don’t have to side with me. Go ahead, validate her disappearance. Remember this, Pierre?—”
“Excuse me, yeah hi, I’m still on the phone here,” I chime in, hoping to move things along.
I hear a slight scuffle and some mumbling as Justine takes me off speaker and moves away from Pierre. I sort of feel bad he’s not even close to done dealing with her wrath, but I have my own lecture to get ready for.
“Leonor Allan, do you have any idea what kind of nervous wreck I’ve been? You left the mansion in a whirlwind of emotions, and I haven’t heard from you since.” Her tone is less harsh, but the worry is still evident. “I was terrified that I was going to get a call from Franc, or worse yet, themorgue...” She stifles a sob, and I wince. I know exactly what she’s remembering, and I hate it. “Then when Mark, of all people, sent me a text saying that they were on their way to your place... frankly, Leo, I about shit.”
I laugh at her choice of words. “Justine, if you knew they were here, why were you so worried?”
“Because! You haven’t even said any of their names in almost three years, then all of the sudden they’re going to yourapartment? What was I supposed to think?” Justine pauses for dramatic effect. “The worst! That’s what I was thinking! Thankfully those boys know that you are my cub and I will tear them apart with my claws if they keep me out of the loop. I know you are safe, that you’re perfectly fine now, but I still needed to hear your voice, sweetheart. Our life has not been the same since you came into it all those years ago, and I couldn’t bear it if that suddenly changed.”
“J’taime, Justine. And I am sorry, really. It’s been an incredibly…eventfulforty-eight hours.”
“Obviously! Norman said you were eating and laughing. You let them stay at your apartment. Lucky obviously stayed in your bed,” she says as she gasps. “Mark said he saw you kissing him? Girl, we havea lotto talk about. Are you coming to work tomorrow? Never mind, use another sick day, you have about a million saved up. You can come back on Monday, but I want to get breakfast or coffee or something Sunday morning. I want to know what the hell happened.”
There’s a brief pause, and I brace myself because I have no idea where this conversation is going anymore.
“Is he a good kisser?”
I crack the fuck up the second her question is out.
Justine and Pierre have been happily married for almost thirty years, but I know she’s always had an innocent little crush on the boys. Not that I can blame her, they are total babes, it’s just funny because she’s cute.
“Perv.” I laugh and put out my smoke.
Justine giggles down the line. “I’m just curious. Lucky has great lips, I always figured he’d be a good kisser. Not that I’d ever want to know firsthand, Pierre is a fabulous kisser and I don’t want any other lips, but I can ask questions.”
Called it.
“He’s ok.” I kid. I like getting a rise out of her, and now I have the energy and inclination to do so.
“Ok?Ok? There is no way that boy is justok. Leonor...”
I sigh, probably a little too dreamily. “He’s amazing, Justine. If I’d have known Lucky kissed like that I would have done it that first day you introduced us.”
“I knew it!” She claps so loud it comes through the phone. “I am so glad you two finally didsomethingabout all those pent-up feelings. I was getting tired of waiting for you to grow a pair and make a move. I want grandchildren, Leonor, and I don’t want to be older than dirt when I get them.”
My smile fades a bit as I light another cigarette.
That’s something I doubt will ever happen, but I don’t have the heart to tell her that. I don’t even have it in me to deal with it myself.
There isn’t much Justine doesn’t know about my attack, but that is one of the few things I haven’t told her. My chances of ever being a mother were dropped to about thirty percent after my insides took such a hit.
Justine knows that after I was hacked apart the doctors removed my left kidney, a chunk of my pancreas, spleen and gallbladder, as well as stitched up a bunch of other shit including my lungs. She also knows I have to take enzyme replacement pills when I eat, a healthy dose of several vitamins and supplements my body now struggles to produce, and I’m diabetic because I don’t have much of my pancreas left. I also have to check my sugar way more than anyone should because I don’t eat properly.
What she doesn’t know is they had to remove my left ovary and Fallopian tube as well. My uterus is now tilted and was nicked, and there was some damage to the other side of things, but they didn’t feel like they needed to do a completehysterectomy, which I’m simultaneously glad for and pissed about.
They didn’t want to do it if they didn’t have to, didn’t want to force the choice to never have children on me, but part of me wishes they had. I’d rather know for sure kids aren’t an option than hope and pray my ass off one day that I can carry a baby.
Which surprisingly is something I’ve always wanted. Going through the foster care system, knowing little more than the last name of my birth mother for so long, it all left me with this need to do better, tobebetter than what I had. I swore I would, that when I was given the chance to be a mom I’d make that baby the center of my universe every single day I was breathing. Knowing that might never happen has been a lot tougher than I thought it would.
Upside to all that though? No more periods or need for birth control. My shit doesn’t work right so I don’t have to worry nearly as much.
Justine’s words cut through my thoughts and pull me right back into the safety of her voice. “Will you do me just one favor, sweetheart?”
“Anything.” Because I at least owe her that.
“Please just check in with me. Even if you are holed up in bed with Lucky, or kissing on Peter, or whatever you get up to with them. Just a simple text, a quick call, a little reassurance for your mama tiger.”
