Page 37 of Diamond Angel

Mabel considers that for a moment. “Hm. That does sound like the kind of advice I would give.”

In another world, to anyone not me, so would I.

“That’s because you are honest to a fault. And you’d neverdreamof hiding something, no matter how painful it was.” I sigh. “Unfortunately, I’m not that brave.”

Mabel licks her fingers clean and moves the pizza box to my bedside table. Then she dusts off the front of her silky blouse before fixing me with a pointed look.

“You realize I wasn’t always that way, right? It took me a few decades before I perfected the art of honesty. I lost friendships because of it, family members, even a couple of husbands. But in the end, I get to live my most authentic life, on my own terms. You can’t put a price on that, darlin’.”

“You don’t have siblings you’re close to,” I point out, turning back to my wardrobe. “You don’t understand.”

“You’re overcomplicating everything, as usual,” Mabel insists. “There’s only one question you need to ask yourself.”

“And what’s that?” I finally abandon my packing altogether and sit cross-legged on the floor in front of her. She’s distracting me so I might as well take a break.

“Do you love him?”

“Mabel.”

“I’m a straight shooter, honey. You know that. Do you love him?”

“He’s my brother-in-law.” Cue the nausea.

“Doesn’t answer my question.”

“I have…complicated feelings for him.”

“Sounds a lot like love from where I’m standin’.” She grins at me. “Not that I can blame you! The man is sin personified. Reminds me of a better-looking version of my third husband. The man was boring as hell, but he could fuck like a stallion.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m shocked it didn’t work out.”

She laughs. “Point is, sweetheart, you just gotta do what feels right in the moment. And I wanted to be Mrs. Alexander Hershwig more than anything else at that point in my life.”

“So you don’t regret the marriage?”

“Not even when I walked in on him with the next-door neighbor.”

I sigh. “You really have lived.”

“Sure have. You should try it sometime.”

I smile and ignore the all-too-familiar jab. “I’m gonna miss you, Mabel.”

“Don’t say that like we’re never gonna see each other again. You own a phone, don’t you?”

I frown. “You never answer your phone.”

“Only because I’m scared it’s gonna be an ex. I’ll text you.”

I laugh. “You better.”

Mabel sits up straighter and takes my hands in hers. “Listen, Taylor: I’ve felt maternal exactly two times in my life. The day of my twelfth birthday, when I was gifted a baby turtle. And the day you walked into my diner and asked me for a job. As I recall, you told me you’d be the best damn waitress I could ever want.”

“Did I live up to the hype?”

“Not even a bit. You’re a shit waitress. But,” she adds with a grin, “you’re a kind soul.”

I’m torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to cry. In the end, I do neither. I just smile and squeeze her fingers. “I think I’m supposed to say thank you here. Not totally sure, to be honest.”

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