“Tell me you didn’t!” Kaelee said.
“Sister Theresa was not amused when I askedwhichPatience was the virgin in the expression, and if it meant she would have an immaculate conception like the Virgin Mary.” Marie smiled widely at the memory. “I was so grateful that my nonna had a sense of humor when Sister Theresa called her.”
The cabbie laughed from the front seat, obviously listening to their conversation. “My abuela would not have laughed at that.”
Marie met his eyes in the rearview mirror and nodded. “Patience wasn’t laughing either.” Then she glanced at Kaelee. “I got sent home the next day for announcing ‘Maybe Patience isnota virgin!’”
Kaelee laughed. “Tell me you didn’t say that loudly.…”
“At lunch,” Marie confirmed. “She shoved me and left.”
“Poor Patience.” Kaelee squeezed Marie’s knee. “So Catholic school?”
“All twelve years,” Marie confirmed.
“Are you… close with your family?”
“Now? Yes. There were years when I think they wished I was more like Patience, though.” Marie stared at the window then, drifting into thoughts that Kaelee both wanted to ask about and didn’t.
Not a date. I do not date. This is not a date. Friends chat.
The cab dropped them off in front of a nice building that had a very late 1800s architecture vibe with arches at the top of tall windows that were evenly spaced on a grayish stone front. A tall iron fence with spiked tops encircled the property.
Despite knowing that personal details weren’t the way to keepa distance between them, Kaelee felt like a jerk for not saying anything personal. “I have no contact with my family,” she blurted out. “Changed my name. Left. My grandmother was cool, but she’s gone now. My parents are hardcore evangelicals of the ‘hate the sinandthe sinner’ sort.”
“They’re missing out. Even without knowing youthatwell, I’m sure of that much,” Marie said lightly, directing her to the front of the building and keying in a five-digit code on a box. “I have a few cousins who don’t stay in touch because of their closed-mindedness. My parents are great, though, and Nonna is amazing.”
Once they were through the gate, Marie gestured toward the front of the building and walked up the steps to the main door, where she waved a pass at another box. “You don’t need to tell me things if you don’t want, Lee. I would like to be your friend… maybe friend with extras if that works for you, but I’m not trying to pry out secrets. I’m just a talker.”
Marie shrugged, and her tone was light. She held the unlocked building door open and nodded toward the stairs. “Fourth floor. Do you want to take the elevator?”
She gestured to the side, where a cage-style elevator waited. The car was open and looked ancient. The metal cage had been painted a bright teal at some point, but there were faded patches now.
“Does it work?”
“Most of the time. It’s as slow as walking up the stairs, though.” Marie looked down at Kaelee’s bag. “Your call.”
“Stairs.” Kaelee said nothing more as she followed her up the first flight and the second. Then she added lightly, “This was the better plan.”
Marie glanced over her shoulder. “Why’s that?”
“You have an amazing ass. I half thought I’d imagined how perfect it was because I was desperate at the hotel, but it’s just right, a Goldilocks-level ass.”
The answering trill of laughter made up for Kaelee’s feeling of awkwardness. “Goldilocks ass?”
“Not too flat, not too big. Just right.”
“Oh, Lee, I could like you,” Marie said quietly. “You’re irreverent and gorgeous and…” Her words faded into a sigh, but Kaelee understood. They had a strong physical spark, but shelikedMarie, too. She liked making her laugh, liked her joyous personality, and found her sense of adventure tantalizing.
I don’t date. I need to get out of here.Kaelee’s panic flared at the comfort she felt around Marie. They very obviously had the potential to be friends, but how was that even possible when they were likely both lying about their names and everything else?
By the third floor, Kaelee suggested, “Can we agree to saying something like ‘can’t answer’ rather than lie?”
“Are you lying about things?” Marie asked. “Other than your name, of course.”
“Not your real name either, then?”
“My middle name. Catholic school.” Marie glanced back again. “At least I landed with Marie rather than Mary. The Devon family named all seven of the girls Mary, so the last six went by nicknames or middle names. I’m a middle-name Marie. My brother is a middle-name Joseph.”
