Page 21 of Kiss Me at Midnight
They played for a few minutes without speaking.
Jud was rusty and lost quickly. Warfare games had never been his thing. “Do you haveMadden?” Jud knew how to put together a winning football team.
“NoMadden,” Paulo said with a superior look. “NBA.”
“I guess you speak multiple languages.” Portuguese, love, and video game. Jud sat back while Paulo changed the game. Maybe the big man understood more English than he was letting on. “So. You and Rachel? She’s cool.” This was awkward.
Paulo grunted.
“I’ve got to be frank with you. In English anyway.” Because Jud didn’t speak Portuguese and at the very least, he could tell Lily he tried to read the gauge on Paulo’s love-for-Rachel meter. “This has the feel of a shotgun wedding. Like you’re rushing to tie the knot when Rachel’s knots only recently came undone. Is there a bun in the oven? A green card issue?” If Paulo played in the NBA, he had to know a little bit of English. He might recognize one of those words. “Go on. You can tell me.”
Paulo said something in a language Jud didn’t understand. He brought up the basketball video game and then paused it, stood, ducked beneath one of those ugly metal chandeliers as he went to the mini-bar. He retrieved two sparkling waters, pausing to look up at the ceiling before returning to his seat and handing Jud a bottle. “I. Love. Rachel.” He glanced up at the ceiling once more.
Was he praying? Or was the honeymoon suite above them?
This was the problem with being educated by a tutor while on movie and TV sets until he took the general education test for his high school diploma. Jud hadn’t learned a foreign language. He regretted it now, staring at the ceiling and the chandelier.
“Play,” Paulo said.
And then Jud set aside curiosity about Paulo, because the professional basketball player was trying to wipe the floor with him in the video game.
And succeeding.
*
“Are you a licensed hair stylist?” Lily had sat in the stylist chair under the assumption that Marta was going to try putting her hair in different updos.
“Even better. I’m anexperiencedhair stylist.” Marta spread Lily’s hair across her shoulders. “You have a delicate little face. It deserves a carefree hairstyle. Highlights. Contacts.”
“No contacts,” Lily said firmly, reaching to adjust her glasses.
“What about a streak of color?” Grandma Dotty had her feet soaking in the pedicure chair. “Or gothic black? Lily would make a statement with black hair. Or even red, like Rachel’s.”
“No,” Lily said simply, but with force.
“Lily is an upstanding citizen.” Rachel sat on the massage table painting her toe nails a shimmery pink that matched Marta’s hair. “Scared straight into the very life she used to despise.”
Lily clenched her hands together, simultaneously feeling angry and vulnerable. “So, we’re finally going to address the past.”
“Uh-oh,” Marta muttered, fiddling with Lily’s hair behind her back.
“Do you want to? Marta doesn’t know our past. Dotty probably doesn’t know it all either.” Rachel shrugged, but it was more like an angry twitch. “Go on and say it, Lily. You hate me.”
“I don’t hate you.” Resent, yes. Regret that there was unfinished business between them, certainly.
“I’d hate me if I were you.” Rachel capped her nail polish.
Marta brushed Lily’s hair ruthlessly, as if she held a grudge on Rachel’s behalf.
“Ow! My hair.” Lily hunched her shoulders.
“Marta, you’d never guess based on who I am today, but I was wild after my mother died. Inconsolable.” Rachel hugged her knees, staring down at her toes, not waiting for Marta to acknowledge her statement before moving on with her story. “My father decided to send me away to a very strict boarding school, no cell phones, no internet access. He might just as well have sent me to prison.” Her arms seemed to circle her knees in a tighter circle. “I escaped our penthouse and went to the Summer house. No one was home but Lily. I told her I was running away. She tried to talk me out of it, but instead, I talked her into running away with me.”
“I had to go.” That was a no-brainer for Lily. “Something could have happened to you if you went off alone.” And the reality was that Lily hadn’t believed Rachel was going to run farther away than the Ritz. But she hadn’t been sure. Lily and Violet snuck out all the time. But they went to underground parties and poetry slams. They had destinations and were dedicated to protecting each other.
Rachel’s arms loosened. She rested her cheek on one knee and stared at Lily. “I wouldn’t let you take your phone. I didn’t want my dad to track us. And then our purses were stolen in Times Square. We spent the first night in that shelter you like so much. The one you raise money for today.”
“Hot Meals and Shelter.” Lily nodded.
