“You know them, Camilla. You know Talent, and you know Wilder better than I ever will.”
“He won’t talk to me,” I admit. “Not since the meeting with the Coppolas.”
Lydia rolls her eyes and comes to her feet. She turns off the lamp on her desk and grabs her coat from the closet. “I never said he wasn’t a son of a bitch. I just meant he’s not a womanizing piece of shit.”
The next day, Lydia has given Yael and the rest of our drivers the holiday off to spend with their families, so Talent picks us up from the apartment at noon. He shows up smelling like fresh flowers and pumpkin pie, dressed in dark denim jeans and a black long-sleeved shirt. He’s left his hair curly, and any lasting anxiety he felt after our meeting with the Coppolas is gone.
“People don’t like to be alone on the holidays,” Lydia says, dragging her feet. “Do you know how many girls I have on the job today. I can’t check out because you want to pretend we’re one big happy fucking family.”
Talent follows her to the room, while I finish up my hair in my bathroom.
“Lydia, we are one big happy fucking family, and you’re going to get in the motherfucking car so we can sit down and have a nice Thanksgiving dinner together.” She slams the door in his face, and he opens it hard enough to slam it against the connecting wall. “Get your things before the turkey burns.”
Lydia freaks out on holidays. It’s a trauma response.
I sit in the back seat with Dog like a third wheel on the drive over to Talent’s place, with a box of cupcakes Dog Mom dropped off last night on my lap. Lydia’s stopped kicking and screaming, but she sits with her arms crossed over her chest and faces the window. There’s something about Thanksgiving, a holiday centered around being grateful and coming together, that makes me feel more alone than any other day of the year. Lydia spent the morning in her own head, and I have no doubt she’s stuck in the past. And I understand.
“Come with me.”Elijah took my hand and led me from the Sunday school classroom, away from the other ministry leaders and students.“We forgot the utensils in the kitchen.”
It was the Sunday before Thanksgiving, and we were celebrating with a potluck meal consisting of cold turkey, instant mashed potatoes, and jellied cranberry sauce after worship.
“Are you sure it’s okay if I come?”I asked, walking fast to keep up with his fast pace.“Don’t we need a chaperone?”
“Cami, I am the chaperone. No one will even notice you’re gone. Don’t worry.”He looked back at me over his shoulder and smiled, and my heart skipped a beat. It had been doing that when he was around, and my stomach tightened up when I wanted to laugh or cry. The palm of my hand was warm in his, and I found myself holding harder.“I got you a present. But I want to give it to you when we’re alone.”
The church kitchen was made up of stainless-steel cabinets, an oily stovetop, and a dirty microwave with a dial timer. It smelled like degreaser and lemon-scented floor cleaner, and despite this, everything was dusty.
Elijah knew what drawer to open for the plastic utensils. He placed them on the counter and summoned me closer.“Come over here. Don’t be scared.”
I didn’t know a lot, but I knew that I wasn’t supposed to be alone with Elijah because he was a boy—a man, and it was my responsibility not to be a stumbling block on his path with the Lord. By stepping forward, I encouraged him to sin. But I’d come to adore his gifts, the treats and small trinkets I kept as company, hidden in coat pockets inside the closet. And I liked the way he made me feel inside, too hot and sizzling.
“It’s a lighter,”he said, sparking a flash. A single flame ignited, and I felt the warmth of it on the tip of my nose.“Because you’re afraid of the dark. Try it.”
I pressed my thumb on the spark wheel and met his eyes when nothing happened. Elijah laughed and showed me how to spin it. After a few more tries, I finally lit the lighter on my own.
He reached into his pocket, and two tea light candles sat on the palm of his hand. “The next time your daddy locks you away, burn these for light. They’re small enough to hide in your pockets, and when you get home, stash them in the closet. I’ll bring you more every weekend, and you’ll never have to be afraid of the dark again.”
Then Elijah Read kissed me, hard and with his tongue.
And I kissed him back because Daddy was right. I was a wicked, wicked girl.
But I wasn’t going to sit in the dark ever again.
Lydia spends a lot of time at Talent’s place, but I’ve never actually visited his apartment until today. The apartment I share with Lydia is a palace to me, but the Grand Opal, a high-rise that sits above the city against the ocean, reminds me of the castles in fairy tales. It’s luxurious in every sense of the word, and our place is humble in comparison.
We’ve only walked through the lobby to the elevators when I whisper to Lydia, “Why don’t we live in a place like this?”
Talent laughs and says, “I’ve asked her multiple times to move in with me, but she keeps saying no.”
“Why?” I scoff, offended for him.
She rolls her eyes. “Where would you live, Camilla?”
“Oh, I’m moving in, too.”
Talent presses the penthouse button on the fourteenth floor. “My thoughts exactly.”
Fresh off the elevator, we haven’t stepped through Talent’s front door yet, and I can already smell rosemary and thyme in the air. It welcomes us home and even softens the Ice Queen. She holds Dog like a football, or a life preserver. But the aroma in the hallway is nothing compared to the heartwarming, cozy atmosphere that awaits us inside. Oversized fall-themed flower arrangements are set up around the open concept living room and kitchen area. There are pumpkins stacked by the fireplace and lined up and down the center of the dining room table. Candles in every shape and size are lit, and not to keep the dark out, but because it completes the package.
