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“I don’t think springing home renovations on someone is the kind of surprise they’ll enjoy.” I’m donkey balls at changing the subject, but Mika lets it go.

“We’ve been looking at photos for days. I know exactly what she wants, and I can return anything she doesn’t use. Right now, she has no budget to do this, but she needs it. Bellatrix is a lovely person, but lovely people sometimes get weighed down with the burden of all that loveliness. She never could tell people no, and she’s far too forgiving. People take advantage of that, or they see right through her. Her parents, some of her other friends, her boss, her ex-boyfriend… And he was the biggest piece of work ever. I was so happy when he finally gave her a good dose of his true colors. I’m not happy about what he did and how he did it, but I’m happy that she won’t waste any more of her life on him. She’s constantly finding out that nice people finish last, and I hate that for her. So, we’re doing this. We’re going to take her blah, boring, impersonal space and make it totally Bellatrixified.”

The entire back of Mika’s SUV is full of cans of paint, rollers, brushes, paint trays, and about a thousand rolls of wallpaper. She was going to buy flooring, but you need tools for that, like a truck, and flooring is more permanent than paint and wallpaper. Mika finally agreed that it would probably be best if Bellatrix chose the flooring herself.

We ride the next ten minutes in silence. I got back to Providence two days ago. I was jetlagged and exhausted, and I still wasn’t over the flu that turned into a cold. The only benefit of summer colds is that they seem to be brief, thanks to the humidity. As soon as I texted her that I was feeling better, Mikaarranged a day off and told me that she was coming for me, so I had best cancel all my plans.

Since I was away for five days and then took another two off, I had a week of meetings planned, but all she had to do was ask, and I took another sick day.

Not a day for me.

For her.

Mika has never asked me for something like this. I thought coffee was special, so when she asked for an entireday, my heart nearly dropped out of my chest.

It didn’t matter that at those home goods stores, I was basically just there to push the cart and do the heavy lifting. Mika knew what she wanted. She was efficient and excited, practically bouncing all over the place while the paint was being mixed.

I loved every minute of her excited chatter and nervous, boisterous energy. She told me how Bellatrix has wanted to renovate her condo for years. Or even just paint it. Then, she told me more about Bellatrix’s mom and dad. I didn’t know Mika met Bellatrix in college. I thought their relationship was older than that, based on how tight they were.

When she went on a rant about how Bellatrix was fired, rage simmered in my chest so deeply and brutally that I felt like a high school volcano experiment about to explode, except it was soda and mints or dry ice, not a nice baking soda and vinegar combination.

I barely stopped myself from making some immediate phone calls to get the place shut down.

Mika said it was because they were downsizing, but her boss used me as an excuse. Losing a high-profile client didn’t look good, so they gave Bellatrix the boot with no severance.

“Do you think it would look terrible if I gave her a job offer?” I hope we have time to talk about this before we get to her place.I should have asked sooner, but I’ve been spending all this time sorting out my messy thoughts and emotions.

The thoughts are bad enough.

The emotions? There’s no chance.

I shouldn’t be feeling anything, but of course, I’m getting hit witheverything. It’s been hitting me since long before I left. Long before that kiss in the barn. It’s been hitting me hard since the second Bellatrix walked into my lonely lounge and straight into a life I’d been refusing to admit was an echo of that same yawning emptiness.

Mika’s left eye twitches. It’s very obvious, given how the dark makeup on her eyelids dances. “It would have to be the right job offer.”

“I was going to do some restructuring. And no, not the kind that means firing people,” I quickly add when she shoots me a death glare. “I want to revive the lounge in the hotel downtown and make it a place people would actually want to go to. I’d like to ask her if she would play the piano there however many nights a week she’d like. Or during the day. Whatever fits her schedule. And I’d pay her well.”

“She’ll think she’s putting someone else out of a job.”

“No. I’ll keep the other two people who play. They’re only scheduled for a few hours in the evening. There’s lots of time to do more.”

“Make it classy or make it hipster vibey? Because classy sucks, in my opinion. It should be a place where everyone feels welcome.”

I have to say this about Marlene. She was angry, bitter, spiteful, and mean after the divorce, though she was the one who wanted it, and I gave her everything she asked for. She wanted to punish me, and she did. I just took it without a fight. I still loved her for years until I realized that being a victim wasn’t love, and it wasn’t helping anyone. She hated that I grew a spine, stood upfor myself, and stopped allowing her to abuse me. She tried even harder to maneuver Mika away from me, but by then, Mika was eleven, and she had her own phone and could call me whenever she wanted. Somehow, she did want to. Somehow, she turned into this beautiful, thoughtful woman.

I have to say Marlene raised her almost entirely, and she had a big part in that, or maybe it was the private school Mika went to. She had great teachers and good friends. In college, she met Bellatrix. She gravitated to good, loving, and kind people.

I realize it could have very easily gone the other way. Mika might never have spoken to me again. If Mika hadn’t fought for me in her own way, I wouldn’t be sitting here now.

“I want everyone to feel welcome. Would you…would you want to help me out with the planning?”

Mika gasps. “Like redesigning it and bringing in acts and stuff?”

“Whatever you think will make it a vibrant part of downtown and draw people of all ages.”

“Okay. Yes then! Can we put tacos on the menu?”

I gag for real and swallow the bile with difficulty.