The delicious scent of food leads me to the kitchen. My mouth waters, but my heart has lodged in my throat as I sneak through the house. I can’t let Mama see me. Not yet.
I find an empty kitchen, with food in the oven that’s minutes away from burning. Mama has always been terrified of kitchen fires. As a child, she lost an aunt to one, and she’s been vigilant to the point of obsession over not leaving food unattended since that happened.
She didn’t plan to leave.
I pull the food out and set it on the stovetop before I turn the oven off. If she comes back, she’ll be confused, but the house will still be in one piece.
I peek down the hall, but nothing appears out of place. I’m at a loss, so I sit at the table and stare at the package. It’s addressed to me, but that’s all it says, my name. There’s no actual address on it. I’m about to open it when my phone buzzes.
New Message from M.O.T.H.E.R.
I unlock the phone and a flood of ice water runs through my veins. I put the phone down on the table and feel the hand on my shoulder.
M.O.T.H.E.R.
Leave the box and get out, now!
“You should have taken the money, Renate.”
CHAPTER40
IRIS
THE GOO GOO DOLLS
I’m trying notto mope as I stare at the TV that isn’t even on. I wanted more time with her, but her leaving again didn’t surprise me. Three more weeks have passed, but this time I couldn’t throw myself at roles or events. I’m tired. So I’ve been staying home and making Jamie worry so much that he comes by every fucking day to check on me and force me to play video games. I’m sure he’ll be here any minute. With any luck, he’ll get caught up talking with Devin downstairs and leave me to wallow in self pity.
Pongo comes up beside me and nudges me in the leg, so I give him a few head scratches. He misses her, too, and I don’t blame him. This has been the hardest time of my life since Cassie. At least Steve finally got me out of bed and back in the gym, working me so damn hard my body hurts as much as my heart does. It’s a distraction for an hour or two. I haven’t cooked in weeks, but they’re all making sure I’m eating. Even Dr. Clay says this qualifies as manageable depression, and I’m managing it pretty well. Whatever that means.
My stomach growls as the smell from Devin’s pizza wafts its way upstairs to the loft where I’m curled around the pillow from the apartment. The smell of her shampoo has faded, but it’s still there. I groan and complain to myself as I stand up, stretching my stiff muscles. I glance over at the bedroom and frown. I haven’t slept in my bed in at least two months. I tried for a while, but I just gave up. It wasn’t the same without her. I don’t sleep much, anyway.
Something sparkles as I walk into the kitchen to grab a slice. I shift the box of cereal Devin hasn’t put away since yesterday morning and find Mrs. Silva’s bracelet. She only ever took this off while doing the dishes—I told her I have a dishwasher, but she doesn’t trust thosedamn machines.She must have forgotten to put it back on before she moved out.
I miss the old lady going around the house and bossing us around like she owned the place, cleaning up while she bitched us out about a clean house, and chasing the dogs around while calling them filthy animals. She meant none of it, and while Devin gets a little forgetful sometimes, we’re both pretty neat. She did it out of boredom. Not having Dani to clean up after or Ren to shoo out of the kitchen. She gave the house a warmth it lacked.
I stuff the bracelet into my pocket, grab a slice, and hop onto the counter where Ren used to sit and watch me cook. Instead, I’ve got Pongo’s big eyes looking up at me—or maybe it’s the pizza. I pick off a pepperoni and toss it to him as I stare out the window. I glance down at the slice, and realize I’ve taken two bites, but given Pongo every piece of pepperoni on it. I love pepperoni, but Ren eats like this.
“Fuck it,” I mumble, hopping off the counter and tossing the rest of the slice to Pongo. “Come on, buddy, let’s get some clothes on, yeah? You wanna go see yourAbuela?”
Ren’s mother and I bonded over our guilt and what Ren has gone through. Me for Lawson and the paparazzi, and her for Luis. She admitted Luis kept her away from Ren, even when they lived under the same roof. With Dani and Ren gone, she misses her family and the warmth they brought to the house. I want to change that, and I’m going to do it tonight.
I’m going to ask her if I can marry her daughter. Maybe it can give her hope like it gives me. I may even tell her how we want to make her a realAbuelasomeday. As much as I miss Ren, her mother misses her more, and I want her to know that she’s part of this family that Ren and I are going to make.
“Hey, idiot. I’m going out for a bit!” I shout into the living room a few minutes later after I’ve gotten dressed and no longer look like a goblin hermit.
“Okay,” Dev yells back. He’s busy blowing off steam with his teammates and doesn’t register what I’ve said. After being eliminated by Vegas last year in the playoffs, he and some of the other guys get their rage out by pummeling the shit out of Vegas in a weekly video game session. They call it therapy. I guess everyone handles shit in different ways.
Pongo’s jumping around my feet, waiting for me to open the door. “You coming with me, buddy? Yeah, okay. Come on.” I turn back toward the living room and yell out, “Lulu? You wanna go for a ride?”
“Dude, she didn’t even move. I got her. Pick up some food on the way back, yeah?” I’m not surprised. Lulu and Dev are inseparable now. He even takes her to the rink for practices and has her out on the ice chasing pucks.
“You have pizza in the kitchen, fucknut.”
“Shit, right!”
I open the door to the garage and Pongo bounds toward the SUV. I traded the Jag in when I got back from Vancouver. I’m hoping to surprise Ren when she gets back, a promise that I’m serious about our future together. I’m not sure she’s going to approve of it since she liked the Jag, but Pongo loves it. Besides, I can buy her a Jag that’s all hers. Pongo sniffs by the sensor and the back hatch automatically lifts for him. I bet this wasn’t what the manufacturers had in mind when they put those in. I close the tailgate and we head out.
When we pull up to her house, I take a long, hard look at the front gate, regretting my decision to come here. My stomach did somersaults the entire drive over, and I almost pulled over to puke twice. I keep reminding myself that Ren’s not here, I’m just going to drop off her mother’s jewelry, profess my undying love and devotion to her daughter, and head home. Easy peasy. Unless Mrs. Silva has decided she doesn’t like me and tosses me out.
