Page 81 of August Lane
“You’re the easiest person to love I’ve ever met.” The words slid so quickly from his mouth that it was like he’d been possessed. No halting half sentences. No long stretches of gathering his thoughts. He nodded at her journal. “It’s right there on paper. You see the world in colors I never knew existed. The rain plays you symphonies. You are so special, August Lane, and I can’t imagine anyone not seeing it.”
Sometimes kindness could be cruel. There was a difference between lacking something and losing it. August had never been sure whichwould hurt more, but now she knew. Losing it would be worse. She covered her face with both hands so he wouldn’t see how much the thought scared her.
“Hey. Are you okay?” He knelt at her feet, trying to make eye contact. August launched into his arms. He hugged her, squeezing until her ribs ached and whispered, “Hey.” But it wasn’t a question this time. It wasI’m right here. Hold on tight.
Two hours later, August arrived home so giddy from her lunch with Luke, she nearly overlooked the sleek black sedan parked out front. She hadn’t wished for anything when she blew out the candle, but when Jojo greeted her with a dazzling smile and said, “Happy birthday, Augustina!” it felt as if there had been some other magic in that moment. There was no other explanation. No one knew that this, her mother’s welcoming arms, was the only birthday gift she’d ever wished for.
August woke to the smell of birthday cake and coffee. But there was also another scent in the kitchen, the spicy bloom of Jojo’s designer perfume. It filled her nose when her mother kissed her forehead before sitting across from her at the kitchen table.
Jojo had gone to bed early, complaining of jet lag. She’d just returned from Japan, where her albums were so popular people shouted her name on the street. After ten hours of sleep, she looked rested and attentive, her face stripped of the heavy makeup she usually wore. Her silk blouse and trousers had been replaced with jeans and a cotton top covered with embroidered daisies.
“Is this Folgers, Mama?” Jojo made a face as she sipped her coffee. “What happened to the good stuff I sent you?”
“Too strong,” Birdie said, and put a piece of cake in front of Jojo.
“I can’t eat sugar this early,” Jojo said. She looked at August’s plate. “But you eat up, birthday girl.”
“It’s a tradition,” August told her, poking at her slice.
“One that’s older than you,” Jojo said. “Carrie and I both had ourfavorites. Mine was a dream cake. It’s yellow cake, whipped cream, pudding. Every dessert you could want layered into a waking dream.”
“Carrie hated that cake,” Birdie said with a sigh. “She liked strawberry. But not the real kind, the radioactive pink one from a box. I’ll never understand that girl.”
“It’s the predictability,” Jojo said. “Same reason she loves cozy mysteries and wants to move to Florida when Mavis graduates. Killer’s always caught. Weather’s always sunny.”
“Florida has hurricanes,” August pointed out.
“That part’s predictable, too,” Jojo said. “Knowing your storms will have a season is comforting.” She tapped her nails against the table. “I’m sorry to visit unannounced. You probably have plans.”
August thought about Luke’s surprise and said, “I do, but it’s this afternoon. I’m free otherwise.” The moment the words escaped her mouth, she realized she’d forgotten about her dinner with Birdie. She looked at her grandmother, who started wiping down the counter she’d already cleaned.
“If you want to take her out, that’s fine,” Birdie said, and draped the damp towel over the sink to dry. “It’ll be good for y’all to spend some time together.”
“We can all do something,” Jojo said, then looked at August. “What are these afternoon plans?”
“A friend of mine planned a surprise.”
Jojo’s eyebrows arched. “Boyfriend?”
“August doesn’t do that,” Birdie said. She picked up the rag again, wiping over the same spot she’d already cleaned twice.
“Do what?” Jojo stared at her mother’s back. “What is it that August doesn’t do?”
“You know what I mean,” Birdie said. She scrubbed harder, fighting a war against invisible crumbs. “Don’t encourage it.”
“All I did was ask a question.” Jojo moved to Birdie and snatched the rag from her hand. “Could you at least look at me?”
Birdie propped a hand on her hip and glared. “Okay. I’m looking at you. Now what?”
“Mom, it’s fine.” August pushed her half-eaten cake away and tried to capture their attention. “She means dating. I’m not allowed to date.” She looked at Birdie. “It’s not a date.”
“Better not be,” Birdie grumbled. She gave Jojo her back and made a wiping motion. It took her a second to realize her hand was empty. “Where’d I put that cloth?”
Jojo tossed it on the counter and turned to August. “Come to my room. I want to give you something.”
August followed Jojo into Birdie’s sewing room, which now contained the roll-away bed they used for company. Seeing the cheap white sheets next to Jojo’s flashy luggage was jarring. August tried to view the room through her mother’s eyes and failed. Jojo stayed in luxury suites in cities August didn’t know existed. Her imagination could only reach so far outside the Arcadia city limits.
“Found this in Kyoko,” Jojo said, handing her a slim velvet box. August sat on the bed and pried it open. It was a gold pendant with a diamond-studded constellation etched inside. “I got it at the Star Festival,” Jojo explained. She took out the necklace and motioned for August to turn around. She put it on her neck and took a moment to admire it. “Looks good on you.”
