“You were right. The Locc was amazing. I talked to the director of activities, and Lord help me, I’ve already forgotten her name…. Anyway, she said that we could run a class! Isn’t that exciting? I already signed Gilbert up to do a workshop on making balcony herb boxes—and no, he does not know yet, and please don’t tell him—but she mentioned that their art teacher is about to go on maternity leave, so I told her I might know just the person to step in! I wouldn’t mind teaching it, but honestly, I’d rather teach it with you so one person can help and one can demonstrate. And honey, I know you’d be so great at it. You could stay with me and Gil during the week, and we could do a slew of classes if you wanted to! And I was thinking…”
On and on she went, talking about how it’d be better to schedule them soon before the Coast’s busy season, when the restaurant would need me most, and then a few other ideas about what we could paint (Oh, my Liem, what if we did birth flowers for their grandbabies?! Oh no, what if they don’t haveany grandkids? That may be dicey. Let me think on that one…)until she informed me that Gil was waking up and she had to go fix his oats or his day would be off to a terrible start.
I refocused on my task, the macrame leaf already taking shape, and considered her offer. The longest I’d been away from Bay Springs since we moved here was when I’d spent two nights with Aunt Ari and Uncle Gil at New Year’s, which had been lovely. I’d especially enjoyed watching the fireworks over the Gulf from their balcony.
But that was before I’d really grown my business to what it was now, the restaurant had been closed for the holidays back then, and it was just…. Well. Justbefore.
I’d always been close to Aunt Ari, sharing frequent phone calls with her as I grew up, but getting to know her as an adult was something entirely different. She and Dad were slowly repairing their relationship, too, though it wasn’t necessarily strained. Before his amputation, they’d just fallen out of touch. We almost never visited them on the Coast when they were running the restaurant, and since they didn’t have kids of their own, they always traveled to us in Alabama for holidays.
By the time I’d thought through all of this, I still hadn’t come to a decision, but it was sufficiently marinating in my mind.
Plus, I’d completed my craft.
I stood up from my desk and stretched, and then I took out the key and attached it to its new key chain, satisfied with my work. Feeling grounded, I clutched the key chain in my palm and let my gaze drift to the therapy art that leaned against the wall.
I’d look at one. Here and now, while I felt up to it.
Everyone is well,I reminded myself as I took a step.My people are here, whole, and near,I sang under my breath as I reached for a canvas at random and turned it around.
My grip on the macrame intensified, the ridges tight against my palm as I saw and smelled charcoal. I lifted the canvas intothe air delicately, maintaining my grip on the key chain, and angled toward the light coming in from the window as I studied every inch of it. Every stroke, each shade and line.
I’d drawn my own hand reaching toward plumes of smoke. The tattoos on my knuckles were the most in-focus aspect, while the featureless face in the top left corner was the least. The effect was eerie, and the impression singed at nerves that were still tender, but it did not wound me any more than I’d already been wounded.
It was progress.
Turning it once more, I leaned it against the wall again and went through my breathing exercises until the muscles in my chest lost their tension, and the air around me cleared to complete reality.
A little less grounded but perhaps a bit more whole, I eased my door open, only to encounter Cody bent over the coffee table, tidying up his computer and papers.
An unfortunate sort of noise clawed up my throat and out of my mouth before I could stop it, my control not quite as tight as it should have been. He jerked and straightened abruptly—too abruptly—hitting the edge of the coffee table in the process.
“Fucking ballsonthesun,”he yelled, collapsing back onto the couch and gripping his shin.
The smile that sprang to my face was easy and instant. Did he have to be so magnificent?
I padded over to him and picked up the papers that had skittered to the floor in the hubbub, then stacked them neatly back onto the table. “You okay over there, Dezi?”
He ran a hand down his face, revealing pink skin when he dropped it. “Yeah, uh, bit of an overreaction.”
“Excellent. I have something for you.”
He frowned and shifted, his deep voice flat as he stated, “I am the worst gift receiver you’ve ever met, LL. I thought Bree would have warned you.”
I watched him curiously. “She did not. Would it help to know that it’s not really a gift? If you want me to insult you like Bree does, I’m afraid I’m not up for it.” I reached over and swiped the key from where I’d set it when I picked up the papers. Then I took a seat beside him on the couch and offered it to him on my open palm. “One key to a fine houseboat, courtesy of my brother.”
His nails lightly grazed my palm as he picked it up, and then he rotated the key chain, inspecting it from both sides. “Wow,” he breathed.
“Vinh also said that he’d email you the paperwork and the boat’s new address soon. I hope you love it.”
He flicked his gaze to me and then shuttled the key down into his clasped hand, running his fingers over the texture of the macrame. “I’m glad you were there. During that time.”
I wasn’t certain if Bree knew or even suspected that her best friend had bade me to look out for her before he left for the boat, but I didn’t feel the need to tell her. It seemed like something that was between them, and I didn’t think the impetus for our relationship defined what it was now.
So, I nodded instead and smiled warmly at him, holding his golden gaze. “And I’m glad you asked me to be.”
We stayed like that for a few moments, just existing, until the sound of car doors shutting had us snapping our attention to the front door. Cody rose from the couch and fussed with his things some more, shoving them into a tidy pile just as Bree and Vinh walked into the house.
Bree hung her bag on the entryway coatrack before moseying over to us. “And what are you two up to?”
