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“Taciturnity?” Aunt Ari must’ve been spending her retirement reading or playing Scrabble. This could not be the same person who wrote the borderline incoherent Ari’s menu.
She arched a brow at me. “Do you remember those mongrels who used to pick on my Liem in school? When he was little?”
I frowned deeply and nodded, knowing exactly what she was referring to.
“The way Liem tells it, you picked him up from school one day, got out of that old Rav4 of yours, and just looked at them. He said he was so confused, because he looked at everyone all the time, but it only made them meaner. He said one boy even cried. Just from a look. And, Bub, you know I think you and Liem are the most handsome boys in the world, but while Liem was an early bloomer, you were, ahh, not. But of course, you did eventually grow into your face. And arms. And, well, personality….” She frowned, reclaiming her mug and sitting back in her chair. “Where was I going with this?”
“I couldn’t say, but do feel free to stop at any point.”
She smiled sheepishly. “Well. We’re the opposite. I suppose that’s what I’m trying to say. I say too much, too often, and it doesn’t come out right most of the time. You”—she flicked her free hand at me—“say less than you perhaps think you’re saying.”
I closed my laptop, removing the distraction as I considered her words. All 4,000 of them. And then Liem’s words from earlier flashed through my mind.
“You’re coming back, right?”
“Why would you ask me that?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
I pushed my out-of-control hair back, reminding myself again of how badly I needed a haircut, and flicked my eyes back over to Aunt Ari, who was smiling fondly at me.
“So handsome with your hair like that,” she sighed. “Though I could give it a trim before you head back tomorrow. I’ve been managing Gilbert’s for decades.”
I looked over at the man snoring open-mouthed in the armchair. My uncle Gilbert, a withdrawn, grumpy man. Who was bald.
Shaking off the idea of Ari coming at me with a pair of clippers, I redirected her. “What have I not told you that you need to know?”
“Oh, I don’t know, Bub. How about how long you’ll be gone, if you’re coming home, or actually….” She got up to dump the dregs of her tea into the sink. “I’d settle for anything about the redhead. Liem says you talk to her more than anyone. It sounds like she’d have liked you even when you had braces and wore plaid cargo shorts.”
“You can have the condo. It’s yours. If you want to settle the paperwork, I can start it tomorrow and come back on Monday,” I cut in, stopping her reminiscence, but smiling internally at the familiarity of the good-natured roasting, thinking of Bree and Cody.
Aunt Ari laughed, pure joy on her face as she walked over to my side of the table and leaned down for a hug. “Yes, Bub, we would love that.” She squeezed me tightly before letting go and ruffling my hair. “And I think that tells me everything I need to know. Especially about the redhead.”
35
BREE
Lady Luck used to make me feel blissfully anonymous.
A bit connected to my mom, if I wanted to lie to myself, and completely disconnected from anything else if I were being honest.
I melted into the persona, the act, the scrap of silk around my eyes preventing both seeing and being seen.
Bree Faust didn’t exist, which was fine because Lady Luck had the potential to be so much more.
Until right now, apparently. Because at this exact moment, standing in the employee locker room as I had dozens of times before, I felt exposed. Naked in the knowledge that this time, I wouldn’t be experiencing that bliss of anonymity when I walked out of those doors.
I no longer knew why I was doing this or how I felt about being seen doing it.
And those people out there? They weren’t my family.
I took a long pull of water from my bottle, careful not to smudge my lipstick, and shook off the unhelpful thoughts. I knew why I was here tonight, at least. After Cody and AJ’s altercation, it seemed smart to not rock the boat. Cody and I discussed it last night when he shook me awake from where I’d fallen asleep in the chair after talking to Vinh and demanded late-night pancakes and reruns of Sabrina the Teenage Witch—a show I’d introduced him to when he moved to the Coast.
He’d thanked me and came out in the same breath, citing Harvey Kinkle as his true sexual awakening. Or, more specifically, Harvey’s helix piercing.
So, it’d become our comfort show, and last night we’d stayed up talking life and love-life strategies while eating giant stacks of pancakes. I told Cody he needed to get back to Mobile, and he told me I needed to quit everything and shack up with Vinh in our “love boat.”
The idea had merit.
