Page 160 of Lovers Like Us
“…great, great love,” she muses. “It was…alwaysyou.”
Maximoff is almost flushed, his body unmoving. Rigid. He tunes out the audience of his family and security, and he stares at thetable.
Wolfscout.
Normally he has a comeback, but I can tell he’s lost for a retort. I drop my chair legs and discreetly put a hand on hisknee.
He’s still a marblestatue.
“That’s beautiful,” Jane says, “and you can read them without tarotcards?”
“Mmmhhhmm,” Fontina answers. “I have an intuitivesoul.”
Maximoff takes a swig of water and says genuinely, “That’sinteresting.”
Fontina smiles, but then she frowns deeply and seizes my gaze. “You’re looking for someone, aren’tyou?”
The air deadens. I’m not even sure if I believe thisshit.
“Weird,” Donnellysays.
I’m still actively looking for multiplepeople. The stalker, the leaker—and my phone suddenly vibrates in my pocket. I reach for mycell.
“You’ll find them soon, very soon…” Fontina trails off as the waitress waltzes to our table with a large tray of food. The fortuneteller says silkily, “Enjoy your meal.” Then she leaves through the beadedentryway.
Jane asks the waitress, “How accurate is your sister-in-law with herreadings?”
“I’d say about half is complete bull.” Patricia wipes her hands on her apron. “But she slides some truth in there every now and then. Need anythingelse?”
I tune out everyone and unlock my phone to a newtext.
Harassment is a strong word.–Dad
My jaw muscle twitches. I text:What word would you use then?I send themessage.
Maximoff hasn’t touched his food yet. “Badnews?”
“No news,” I say under my breath. “He’s being a vague asshole.” My attention drifts as Oscar pops a metal tin. “You seriously brought Audrey’s cookies here?” I didn’t even notice him carryingthem.
“Yeah,” Oscar says. “We didn’t know if anything would be open, Redford. I was thinkingahead.”
My phone rattles on thetable.
I would call it being proactive, productive, and professional. I shouldn’t be the primary care physician to your boyfriend. It’s a better role for you. Your talent shouldn’t be wasted. Do what you’re meant to do.–Dad
My nose flares. I grind my teeth, irritation crawling down my spine. I can’t discern whether he’s behind the Instagram account or the leak. He’s only referencing how he’s no longer Maximoff’s doctor. That incident alone sets me on an aggravated edge I rarelynear.
I’m not replying back anytime soon. I pass my phone to Maximoff. Wanting to keep him in the loop. And I look across at Oscar, who eats a heart-shaped cookiewhole.
“How’s the cookie,Oliveira?”
“Perfection.” He picks another one, and his eyes narrow at the icing. He goes very still, serious. Moremethodical.
Something’s notright.
I reach for the tin and sift through the cookies. Pink icing decorates half of them with two words:I’msorry.
“I don’t understand it,” Oscar tells me. Neither doI.
