Page 22 of Tiny Fractures

Vada and I drive for only a few minutes before Vada pulls up to a curb and puts her car in park, then turns off the ignition.

“Where are we?” I say, confused as Vada steps out of the car. We’re stopped in front of a brick two-story home. Like my house, some steps lead up to a stoop and a dark-green front door. There isn’t much of a front yard, but the solid wood fence to the left of the house and the garage leads me to believe there’s a fairly sizeable backyard.

“Steve’s,” Vada says matter-of-factly.

I follow her up the five or so steps, where she knocks on the front door. I laugh to myself; did I seriously think it was just going to be the two of us going to the movies? Of course not.

“But of course,” I say with a laugh. “Who else is joining?” I ask, wondering if she’ll say Ronan’s name and gauging how I would feel if he joined us at the movies.

“Zack and Summer are meeting us there,” she says, just as a young-looking woman opens the front door. I wouldn’t peg her as older than late-twenties or early thirties. She has blonde hair that’s pulled back into a tight ponytail and familiar-looking green eyes. She’s around five foot six and slender. Her light-blue scrubs are perfectly fitted, and the badge clipped to her breast pocket displays the name of a hospital, and below it a picture of her and the name “Rica Soult.” This must be Ronan and Steve’s mom, and by the looks of it she’s either heading to or coming home from her shift as a nurse.

“Oh hi, Vada,” she says, standing aside so Vada and I can enter the house. We step into a small hallway with stairs directly in front of us leading to the second story of the home. To the left, the hallway leads to the living room on the right and then straight to the kitchen.

“Steve!” Mrs. Soult calls upstairs. “Vada is here with…” She stops and looks at me, apparently realizing she hasn’t met me yet.

“Mrs. Soult, this is my friend Cat,” Vada says.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Mrs. Soult tells me. She studies my face for a moment before she turns toward the stairs again, where Steve has just appeared at the top. “I have to get going. I’m scheduled for an eighteen-hour shift, so I won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon,” she tells Steve. She grabs her purse and keys, then heads past Vada and me and out the door without saying goodbye.

I give Vada a look conveying how weird this interaction was. “She’s kind of gruff,” Vada whispers to me.

Steve arrives at the bottom of the stairs and pulls Vada into his arms to give her a kiss on her forehead.

“Are you ready to go? The movie starts in thirty minutes,” Vada says, her tone flirty and light as her arms wrap tightly around her boyfriend.

“Yeah, I just need to grab my wallet and keys. Do you think you’ll be okay at the movies like this, or do you want me to grab you one of my sweaters?” Steve looks admiringly at Vada, who is wearing cutoff jean shorts and a tank top.

“A sweater might not be a bad idea,” Vada muses. “And actually, I’m going to go to the ladies’ room before we head out.” She follows Steve upstairs, but briefly turns to me. “Be right back!”

Just as Steve and Vada disappear up the stairs, the back door in the kitchen opens. My breath catches when Ronan enters the house from the garage, a black German Shepherd prancing behind him. The dog stops to look at me. Ronan, on the other hand, doesn’t notice me right away and startles when I say, “Hi,” from the hallway.

“Hey. What… What are you doing here?” He briefly scans his surroundings before he gives me a dazzling smile as he steps out of the kitchen and into the hallway, his dog not missing a beat, following him like a shadow. Ronan must have been working in the garage because his hands are black and greasy, and I spot a smudge of some oily substance under his right eye.

“We’re heading to the movies.” I crouch and hold my hand out to the dog. It looks up at Ronan as if awaiting his permission to approach me. Ronan smiles, then gives the dog a quick nod. It joyfully tramps over to me, offering me its belly the moment I begin scratching behinds its ears.

“You’re much less scary than you look,” I giggle at the dog, then look back at Ronan, whose smile makes my heart hammer stupidly in my chest.

“Nah, Onyx isn’t scary.” Ronan claps his left palm against his leg once and Onyx follows him as he walks to a sliding glass door leading to the backyard. “Come on, girl. It’s nice outside,” Ronan says to Onyx. I smile at his sweet way of talking to his dog and watch Ronan close the door once Onyx is outside.

“Are you joining us at the movies?” I ask, not totally sure what I want his answer to be.

“I can’t,” Ronan says, and I’m surprisingly pleased by the disappointment in his voice. “I’m working tonight.”

I didn’t even know he had a job. “Oh. Where do you work?”

Ronan walks past me and back into the kitchen. “Murphy’s.” He scans my eyes for recognition. When he doesn’t find it, he adds, “It’s one of Shane’s parents’ places.”

“Oh wait, that’s on Seventeenth, right? I’ve eaten there before. It’s this Irish pub-slash-restaurant? Awesome bangers and mash.”

Ronan smiles at me. “That’s the one.”

“How long will you be working tonight?” I feel myself relax around him just like I did the night I met him and every time I’ve run into him since. There’s something about him that makes me feel comfortable, safe, and I have to once again remind myself to remain vigilant, to keep my guard up. I will not repeat history.

“Only till ten tonight.”

I watch in silence as Ronan turns on the kitchen faucet and scrubs his grimy hands. I scan his perfect face, the arch of his nose, the shape of his full lips, his masculine jawline. He must feel my gaze because he turns his head to look at me while working the soapy suds into his skin.

I give him a small smile and put my finger below my right eye. “You have something under your eye,” I say. “Right there.”

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