Page 86 of Fighting

“All of your relationships, not just with Nessa,” She corrects me.

“Plus, look closer at the last card.”

“It has a rainbow covered in gold cups, a happy couple waving to a town, and dancing children.”

“See, this here is a very good omen. There’s a lot of good to come, a blissful community and family. Have a little faith in us, Mateo. We’ve seen you grow,” Prudence says before looking past me. Both men have returned with beers in hand, waiting to take their seats.

She stands. “Well, I’m going to get myself a little afternoon sweet. See you boys for dinner, Christian?”

Once she’s out of earshot, I lean closer. “Okay, tell the truth. She’s a witch, isn’t she? Zelda was doing her bidding so she could sit.”

We laugh at the accusation, but I’m still not convinced.

thirty-eight

Nessa

By the timewe arrive at Shae’s Philadelphia townhouse, I’ve completely given up pretenses. I’ve gathered my hair in a messy knot and cried off all my makeup.

Aba rings the bell, and she greets us, her eyes wide with surprise, he scoops her into a bear hug.

I muster a passive wave, then walk straight to her bedroom and fling myself onto the bed.

“Nice to see you too, sissy,” she calls.

As I’m willing sleep to take me, Dad guides Shae out of the room. They go out to lunch, leaving me to my fitful nap.

When I wake up, it’s dark enough out to suggest I slept all day, and Shae’s watching me from a colorful swivel chair.

“Where do you find these things?” I ask, pointing at the ridiculous piece of furniture.

“Dad had to get home, but he said you had a really bad day and asked for me. What is going on?” she asks. She’s tense, no doubt because we haven’t been close in a long time. And that’s on me.

Before I can stop them, my eyes well and tears crest my lashes. Without a word, I wrap myself in her fleece throw and bury my face in her pillow.

The bed dips, and then she’s at my side.

“You donotcry. What is happening?” she asks me, smoothing a hand over my hair.

“This goes back too long. To the summer before ninth grade…” I launch into the story I told Mateo months ago.

“I was so scared of forcing ten-year-old Shae to grow up, that somewhere along the way, I failed to notice you aging just like I was. And now you’re a twenty-five-year-old woman with her own story,” I say, dipping my chin.

I open up about everything, from how I found myself hiding the problems with Caleb for years, to landing in bed with Mateo.

“It’s over,” I admit. The tears come harder now.

“Was it good dick, at least?” She teases me, now knowing my full sexual history.

I laugh, but it’s cut off by a sob.

“He’s amazing. Huge, with thick, throbbing veins. The kind that rests heavy in your palm, like they describe in my favorite romance novels.” I sigh through the mix of tears and laughter, adding on, “And he knew what to do with it.”

She nudges my arm. “At least you have the memory for the spank bank?”

After a few moments of silence in our embrace, I feel myself drifting again.

“Can I sleep here? Everything at my place reminds me of him. It would only be one night,” I say with a sniffle.

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