I grin and wink. “One of the pieces is entirely crotchless.”
His eyes go a little hazy, like he can’t help but imagine it, and then he shuts the front door as I’m opening it. “Changed my mind, cancel on your sisters and go put it on.”
I laugh, gently opening the door again. I know he’s messing around but damn, I really want to do exactly that. I don’t want to think about my sisters and what we’re trying to do tonight. I don’t want to think about my shitty mother and the way she fucked meup when I was basically a baby. I don’t want to think about how, deep down, I don’t think it’s possible that I can get it back—my soul. That I will remain soul-broken forever.
But Sky honks the horn again, this time for so long, I’m sure the neighbors want to curse us out now.
I sigh and kiss Carter one more time. “I’ll be back in an hour, tops.” I don’t actually know how long it’s going to take to get my soul fragment back, but I don’t want to give it more than an hour, not when I have guaranteed orgasms at home with my husband.
“I’ll be waiting.” He gives me one more panty-melting grin, his dark yellow eyes practically twinkling as I make my way out the door with an enormous grin of my own.
“Finally,” Sky says when I contort myself to get in her car with minimal pain. She pauses as she looks me over. “Wait a minute. There’s something different about you.”
My cheeks instantly turn hot. “Um—”
“Are you high?” Sky furrows her brow as she looks me over. “Your eyes are kind of glassy and yourhair…” She wrinkles her nose. “Did you take too much Valium?”
I laugh and shake my head. Sex-obsessed Sky isn’t going to guess that I finally banged my husband, and the result was not one but two epic orgasms? “No. I just…Carter and I went to the movie theater. Like for a real date. And it was nice.” I don’t want to share the sex part yet, or the part in which Carter and I declared our love for each other. It feels too new and precious, like something just for us, for however long we need it to be just for us.
“But to be clear, you didn’t get high while watching the movie?”
I roll my eyes and point. “No, Sky, and please start driving. I’m starving and I don’t want to eat cold tacos.”
“Fine.”
She doesn’t put the top down, but she does roll down all the windows so the salt-thick wind from the sea rushes through. We can’t talk, because it’s so loud, but I don’t care. My hair is going to look like it’s made of twigs when this drive is through, but I don’t care about that, either. I’m still riding the high of Carter. Specifically, of me being his and him being mine. And how convenient a marriage of convenience turned out to be.
Sky pulls into St. Theresa’s Catholic Church for Wanderers and Pilgrims. Even though we spent a hell of a lot of time here our entire childhood, I can’t think of this place as mine. It’s Nadia’s, and now, maybe Sky’s, but only because she works there. I’ve just never been into this stuff like Nadia or Sage, the spiritual parts of religion. Maybe it’s my lack of control and connection over my gift…or maybe it’s just me. I think the old gods stuff is real, if out there, and I mean literally out there—beyond my reach, both physically and mentally. But religion—Mass and church and priests and smelly incense and confession booths—that’s always been bullshit to me. Other people can like it and that’s fine. Just leave the rest of us alone about it, please.
The worship hall itself is massive, made of white and gray sea stone, the kind you can still see fossils stuck inside if you look close enough, with three tall towers reaching up like witch’s claws. On the top of the largest of them is a red cross that lights up from its bottom at night, in a way I’ve always thought was creepy.
Inside, it’s all one floor, those tall walls holding just-as-tall stained glass of images featuring Mary Magdalene and various other figures from Jesus’s time, including, naturally, the man himself. The floor is made up of polished black tile, and the harmonics are nuts—you can hear the chisme that viejas are whispering to each other on the other side of the room if you wanted.
Sky doesn’t stop at the parking lot in front of the worship hall, though. She goes around, stopping the car when we’re right behind it, facing a series of buildings—the two-story gray one in which all the religious and Sunday school classes are taught, the offices for various church-business things, and then…the library.
“Damn, I’d forgotten how weird the library looks,” I mutter. Someone had the grand idea to put the library in where the old sanctuary used to be. But they didn’t exactly remodel it right…if at all. It’s on the smallish side, made up of white walls peeling to reveal orangey red brick, with two massive red doors cut in front of the entrance like a wide-open mouth. There are always a few crows hanging out on its roof, too, ever since I was a little kid—like they know it’s haunted and are trying to warn anyone nearby with their sharp caws.
Sky gives me a huge grin as she grabs her bag. “Isn’t it great?”
“Sure, if we’re on the set ofBuffy the Vampire Slayer.” I glance at her outfit—a black turtleneck tucked into high-waisted gray slacks, an enormous sunstone silver necklace at her chest, and shiny black, pointed boots. “Actually, you know what? You with the librarian thing you’ve got going on. You’re basically a young, hot female Latina Giles. If Giles were the older version of a tall Shakira.”
“That makes no sense, because Giles was rather hot.”
I shrug. Point taken. I didn’t think it when I watched the show at twelve, but now I can see it, though—the older, kind of awkward guy with the accent and the glasses. Yeah, Giles was hot.
There are two black iron benches facing each other on the walkway leading to the library doors. Sage is sitting on one, already devouring what looks to be her second taco.
“I know you’re pregnant and all, but that better not be my taco,” I say.
Sage rolls her eyes and digs through the huge plastic bag by her side, and she hands me and Sky a small paper bag each. “Teal, you got three grilled fish tacos with extra guacamole and a side of black bean soup. Sky, you got the fried chicken tacos covered in cilantro and lime crema with a side of maduros.”
“How did you know?” Sky gasps, snatching the bag away.
“I asked Nadia. Sometimes her gift comes in handy.”
“What did you get?” Sky asks.
“Three four-cheese street-corn tacos with a side of tostones.”
