Cori 2.0 certainly seemed a lot like Cori 1.0, but I got the feeling this grown-up version wouldn’t put up with my mixed signals the way sixteen-year-old Cori had.
This Cori wasn't going to pretend I hadn't held her close on the dance floor. She knew why I’d been shocked into silence after finding out she’d been engaged. She’d stood in front of me just now, practically demanding I admit it.
So I would. That was my plan. After everything we’d been through, I wasn’t going to wait around while she found another Marcus to get engaged to. I was going to tell Cori I wanted something more than friendship.
She knew my flaws, my pain, and my regret. If she wanted me anyway, then I would be grateful, not scared.
Expressing my feelings felt a bit like standing on the edge of a cliff, trying to capture gravity. But she deserved to have the information and decide what happened next. And if she wanted to put the genie back in the bottle and tell me it wasn’t a good idea to change things, that we were better off as friends, then so be it.
But I hoped she’d say something else.
Chapter twenty-seven
Deck
AMediterranean food truck was parked half a mile from the Center. Cori and I took advantage of the mild weather to walk there. Since it was midday on a Monday, we mostly had the sidewalk to ourselves. I’d prepared myself to say my piece, but she spoke first.
“Thanks for having lunch with me, Deck. I know we have some stuff to talk about, but to be honest, I just had a hell of a morning making some extremely obnoxious phone calls, and I need to get some food in me before we discuss anything heavy.”
I smiled. What were twenty more minutes after more than a decade? “Do you want to talk about the phone calls? Maybe it’ll help to vent a little?”
She hiked her purse up on her shoulder aggressively. “Just talking to some of our longer-term donors. Everyone wants answers I don’t have. I can’t guarantee success in the future if we don’t have the money pledged. So it’s kind of a chicken and egg thing, you know?”
“That sounds annoying. Sorry.”
“It’s okay. Part of the gig. I’m hoping all these folks will be at the gala. Once they see the programs in action and are reminded of the mission, I’m betting they’ll be all in. But our best hope for long-term sustainability lies in attracting new donors. I have a number of contacts from JBC who will be attending the event. I’m just not sure that’ll be enough.” She exhaled. “I don’t know. This is exactly what I signed up for when I said I’d help Rosa. I think I just forgot that some days feel this way, no matter the job.”
“Your old job was like this?”
“In the sense that I often got so frustrated I wanted to throw things,” she said wryly.
I had trouble picturing Cori as anything other than cool and composed. “It sounds like you don’t miss it?”
Her pace slowed. “No. It was good for a while, and I learned a lot, so I don’t regret my time there, but I’m done with the corporate world. That’s one of the few things I’m sure of.”
A whisper of laughter escaped me.
“What?” she asked with a smile.
“This is going to sound nuts, but that’s kind of how I feel about prison. Before I went in, I was really spiraling. I mean, I almost killed someone with my bare hands. Being inside grounded me. I got an education and found my place. I regret a lot of the things that led to me being thrown in a cell, but the experience itself changed my life. It would be a stretch to say it was good for me, but I came out better.” I chuckled again. “Also, like you, I’m definitely done with it. No way am I going back.”
Cori’s brows drew together. “Of course not.”
I appreciated how confused she seemed by the mere suggestion.
We reached the truck and both of us ordered falafel sandwiches. They were messy to eat while walking, so wesacrificed more than a few bits of cucumber and dollops of tzatziki sauce to the pavement gods.
Three blocks from the Center, we came to the little corner market that had been part of the neighborhood for as long as I could remember.
“Can we stop at the store?” Cori asked. “That pita was great, but it’s not going to hold me until dinner. I want to grab a bag of pretzels. Then maybe we can have our talk?”
“Sure. Is it alright if I buy Reign a candy bar? They’re coming to help me this afternoon, and I know they like Twix. But I don’t want to get in trouble for showing favoritism or anything.”
“It’s okay, Deck. That’s nice. As long as you don’t give it to them in front of all the other kids, I think it’s fine.”
We walked through the glass door to the familiardingannouncing our entrance, and I upnodded Amos behind the counter. Amos had been a few years ahead of me in school, and we were in prison together for a while when he served time for robbery. When I first got out and lived with my parents, I’d run into him at the market, so I knew he’d been working here for a few years. His name tag saidAssistant Manager.
The ancient building was long and narrow. The market consisted of only two aisles with chest-high shelving in between. Fountain soda machines, a slushy dispenser, two freezers full of ice cream novelties, and cold cases housing single-serve drinks lined one wall. I recalled the way my friends and I used to give that slushy machine a workout. I grabbed Gatorades for myself and Reign, along with the Twix. Cori stood in front of the pretzels like she was studying theMona Lisa.
