Page 59 of The Heartbreak Hotel
“Yeah.” Mei smiles at me. “She usually does.”
“Let me put Quinn down,” I say as all three of us cross the threshold. “And then I’ll show you to your room, Shani, okay?”
She nods, and I get Quinn tucked into my bed. He melts willingly into the mattress, rolling onto one side, burrowing his head into the pillows. Then I show Shani up the stairs and into the Spruce Room. It takes all of my willpower not to stare at the door of the Lupine Room as we pass. Molly’s room—stamped with the memory of Henry tugging me through the door, his body framing mine, his hands on the bare skin of my back.
“Sounds like I missed a big day,” Mei says as I come down the stairs. She’s filling a glass of water from the fridge and I widen my eyes at her, shaking my head. She doesn’t know the half of it.
“Nuts,” I say. “I’m so glad her dog’s okay—can you imagine? ‘Heartbreak Retreat Kills Beloved Dog.’ ”
“I mean, it wouldn’t have been your fault,” Mei says. “But yes.”
I drag a hand through my hair. “How areyou? How was your night?”
“It was good.” Mei smiles softly. She tips her head toward the back door. “Want to chat on the porch?”
I follow her outside, dropping onto the couch on the back deck. The sun’s still high in the sky; it bakes honey-yellow over the garden. I’ll tell Mei about Henry, I’ll have to—the secret is already fizzing in me, frenzied, desperate to be free.
“We went to RiNo and bopped around and it was honestly, just—” Mei looks at me, letting out a breath and dropping hershoulders. “Nice. To have fun, and forget about things, and be back home and not have it feel terrible.”
I nudge her knee with mine. “I’m so glad. I told you it would be good.”
“Yes, yes.” She waves her hand. “You’re always right. But, look, it did really get me thinking.”
I raise my eyebrows, and she says, “I should probably think about going back. You know, for good.”
“Really?” I try not to let my voice betray my disappointment. Just a couple days ago, she told Goldie she wasn’t ready to leave. I want Mei to feel better—of course I do. But I don’t want to lose her, either.
“Yeah,” she says on an inhale. “It’s been so good to be here and spend all day with you and just, like, disconnect from the life I had with Andy. But it’s stillmylife, too. Last night reminded me Denver wasn’t just Andy—there’s a lot of other things I love there. I can’t keep hiding.”
“You haven’t been hiding,” I say. “You’ve been healing.”
Mei tilts her head back and forth. “If I’m honest with myself, I think it’s been both.” She reaches for my hand, sensing without me having to say anything that this news is hard. “I’m so glad I could be here for this, Lou. You’re making something really special here.” She squeezes my fingers. “And I’m only ever an hour away if you need me.”
“I know,” I say quietly. I squeeze her hand back. “I’m going to miss you, but I’m really glad you’re feeling ready for this.”
Mei tips forward and bumps her forehead against mine. When she leans back again, she says, “Thank you.”
“When will you go?”
“The weekend, maybe.” My heart drops. “So I can get back to work in the office on Monday.”
“Okay,” I say, forcing a smile. I know she can see how fake it is, and she pulls me into a hug.
“You got this, Lou,” Mei says over my shoulder. And then, something that’s never been true: “You don’t need me.”
Mei leaves on Sunday morning,with lots of hugs for me and even more for Quinn. Watching her go feels like being halfway up a rock wall and unclipping my carabiner. I’m not done here, and now I’m left to make the rest of the climb without my support system. Quinn and I stand in the doorway and watch her car roll down the driveway. It’s been parked out front since I started the Comeback Inn, and the street feels empty without it.
“Don’t be sad, Lou-Lou,” Quinn says. He wraps an arm around my leg, hugging it sideways. “We’re doing tattoos today, remember?”
“Yeah,” I say, ruffling a hand through his hair. I ended up not telling Mei about Henry—it didn’t feel important, after our conversation on the back porch. But he’ll be here in under an hour. “How could I forget?”
It’s quiet in the house; I don’t have anyone else checking in for another couple of days, and Shani’s mostly kept to herself since Alfie’s accident. Nan spends a lot of time reading in her room, or going on walks downtown. So as Quinn and I set up for tattoos in the kitchen, we play his favorite Disney music and pretty much feel like we have the house to ourselves.
Henry rings the doorbell when he arrives, and Quinn goesrunning. I have bowls of water and clean towels set out on the counter. I reach to straighten the stack of tattoo sheets, feeling a great wave rise in me: tingling, enormous, threatening to swallow me whole.Henry, Henry, Henry.
“Hey, Quinn.” His voice carries down the hallway, and when I look up he’s crouched in front of my nephew with his elbows propped on his knees. Henry’s in jeans and a dark gray T-shirt. His eyes find mine, and it tugs deep in my belly. “Do you have any tattoos yet?”
“No, we waited for you!” Quinn says, reaching out to rest his hands on Henry’s shoulders. Kids are amazing—the way they accept intimacy. It’s a testament to Goldie’s parenting, I know, that the world feels so safe to her son. “How many are you gonna get?”
