Page 241 of Romeo

It came from years.

A crooked paper ornament somebody made in kindergarten. Something bought on a vacation because it made someone laugh. A gift that looked ridiculous to everybody except the person who understood the story behind it.

A life collected one piece at a time.

Me: You’d need a big tree then.

Her answer took longer.

Ma Belle: Eventually.

I rubbed my thumb along the edge of the phone.

Me: Plenty of room in the imaginary house.

Ma Belle: You remembered the tree too?

Me: Adding it to the plans.

Ma Belle: You really do remember everything.

Me: Told you.

Ma Belle: That might be my favorite thing about you.

For once, the joke didn’t come.

I knew what people liked about Romeo. The smile. The flirting. The stupid shit that made people laugh when things were getting too heavy. I’d spent years making sure those were the easiest parts of me to see.

Fiona liked that I remembered what mattered to her.

That landed somewhere entirely different.

Me: I like knowing what matters to you.

Nearly a minute passed before the reply appeared.

Ma Belle: You matter to me.

I read it once.

Then again.

Around me, somebody shouted about a pool shot. A bottle hit the bar. Blade laughed at whatever Indie threw back at him.

None of it registered.

Fiona didn’t toss words around carelessly. If anything, she guarded them too fucking much.

I typed an answer, erased it, then tried another before giving up on making it sound clever.

Me: You matter to me too, Ma Belle. More than you know.

Her response came slowly.

Ma Belle: I think I’m starting to.

I leaned back and let the phone rest against my leg.