Page 30 of Crazy In Love
“What are you even talking about?”
“Whydoes fighting exist? It’s no longer a skill we need, and there are no wars that’ll be won by hand-to-hand, rolling-around-on-the-floor combat. If you insist on throwing stones and picking at my job, then be prepared to admit the same about yours.”
He’s like a bull filling with rage, expanding with hot air and a need to explode. But all he manages is a grunt of exasperation. “You’re infuriating!”
“I know. I’m pretty proud of it, actually.”
“You took my fork on purpose to annoy me.”
“Yeah.” I select the fork from the drying tray and run the towel along its smooth edges. “I did. You could’ve taken it back by force, or you could’ve walked to your house and gotten another. You could’ve used the one I gave you, or stolen Franky’s.” I lean closer and whisper, “I have it on good authority that he can’t fight for shit.”
His eyes shoot toward the living room doorway, then back to mine.
“You had a million options tonight at dinner. I wanted to see which one you’d choose. Gotta say,” I smirk, “I didn’t expect you to eat with your hands.”
“You call a truce, but irritate me anyway?”
“Truce, in that I won’t push you in front of a speeding train. Irritating you is for my own personal enjoyment. But don’t get your feelings hurt, because I irritate Franky, too. Growth is a good thing.”
“I don’t want to grow! I don’t want to expand my horizons or become a better person or be schooled by some made-up chief happiness officer bullshit. I’m happy exactly how I am.”
“Which brings us right back to where we began: some of my best adventures were had while I was uncomfortable.” I tilt to the side and tap his shoulder with mine. “Being in Plainview is uncomfortable for me. My welcoming party would have had me back on that plane before I could take a whiff of the cool mountain air, my driver consistently andonlyexpresses scorn, my best friend’s future brother-in-law tells me I’m unwanted?—”
“All of those people are me.”
“I know.” I set his special fork down and move on to the next. “The townspeople treat me like I’m less welcome than a puss-filled pimple on their backsides, constantly asking when I’m leaving again. And the townitselfseems intent on destroying my toes with every door jamb, set of drawers, and curb it owns. Personally, I’m accustomed to late-night dining and shopping until my heart is content. I’m literally the only white person in my building in New York, and every building surrounding mine is the same. Yet, I haven’t seen a single human since being here that didn’t look like they came from the same set of grandparents.”
He stares down his nose and into my eyes. “You think Plainview isn’t good enough for you?”
“Think?Plainview is the butthole on the front of Satan’s chin dimple, and nothing will ever change my mind on the matter. I get that this town is set in its ways, and those ways were set in stone a hundred years ago. You’re male, an adult, a successful business owner, and an influentialcitizen, which makes existing pretty damncomfortablefor you. You live with privilege, Christian, and that privilege could mean good things for this town. Sadly, that makes your abhorrence for change especially tragic. But…” I shrug and start working on the knives. “You know how I feel aboutmydiscomfort. I wonder what good will come of this visit?”
He raises a single, arched brow.
“The answer is easy, really. Alana and Tommy’s baby girl will be here soon, which, in itself, is amazing.Plus,I get to spend six weeks of quality time with Franky. I know how you feel about all this, and God knows, you hate having to share. But before he was yours, he was mine.” I slide the soft material along the dull side of the blade. “It’s like Alana and I got a divorce, except no one really cares that I’m missing the baby I helped raise.”
“Have you said any of this to Alana?”
“And break her heart?” I scoff. “I have no desire to cause that woman even a single shred of pain when I know she already carries so much. Besides, I know his life here is amazing.”
“He hates the rooster.Loathesthat motherfucker.”
I cough out a laugh and place the dried knife on the counter. “Besides the chicken, then. Wherever Alana is happy, he’s happy. And as long as they’re happy, I’ll deal. Though I sure as hell intend to soak up my six weeks and enjoy that little boy. And when the baby’s here, I’m gonna snuggle her, too. When Alana’s feeling better, I’ll tackle her to the ground and hug her until she begs me to stop, becausethat’show fiercely I miss her. I intend to take these six weeks to get to know Tommy better, since I only really know what Alana has told me. And then…” I draw a long breath, filling my lungs. “Well…” I exhale again. “Then there’s you.”
He pulls back and blinks. Blinks. Blinks. “Me?”
“I look forward to irritating the ever-loving shit out of you over the next six weeks, Christian. Because you’re a really fun, easy target, and you could do with a little discomfort. Who knows, I might annoy you just enough to force you to use your powers for good. Making a change, even a teeny tiny little one, could help this town move toward the twenty-first century.” I set my towel on the counter beside the dry plates, then I brush my fingertips across the ball of his shoulder and thrill in the way his arm locks up, and the muscle turns rock hard. “If you won’t step out of your comfort zone for you, consider doing it for those who aren’t white, male, and successful. Who knows? If Plainview wasn’t so ass-backward ten years ago, maybe an eighteen-year-old Alana could’ve stayed, supported by a community who had her back, instead of running away, terrified of what had been done to her.”
Idrop my hand and leave him to finish the dishes on his own. Sauntering into the living room, I find Franky exactly where I left him, his hair still wet, and his oversized pyjamas drowning his body.
He’s not a baby anymore—though I think I miss that most of all—nor is he a full-grown man. He’s just a boy, caught in the middle where he still needs adults to help him along, but with a brain of someone far exceeding his age. I flip the living room light out in silence, startling him from his book and earning a scowl, then I crawl onto the couch and drag him into my side until he comes, languid and loose, draping his arm across my stomach and resting his cheek on my chest.
“I didn’t finish my Murdle yet, Aunt Fox.”
“I miss you, even when you’re in the other room.” I kiss the top of his head and suck down the emotion set on making me out to be a fool.He’s not my child. And no matter my feelings on the matter, I don’t get to keep him.“Did you have a fun day today?”
“It was okay.” He pushes his book away and peels his glasses off, then he fingers the frayed hem of my shorts, exhaling a long, lazy sigh. “You made Chris really cranky with that fork. Did you know?”
I snort and rest my lips on his forehead. “Yeah, honey. I know. I did it on purpose.”
