She reaches for the phone on her tray, unlocks it, and turns the screen so the glow paints her face.“I came to Vegas for two reasons,” she says.“One I’m sure you found in your snooping.My boss wouldn’t stop harassing me.But the other reason, Mila, she stopped everything.I made a list to prove I could be okay alone.”
The photo on the screen is her list pressed between the pages of my favorite book.
stand in a closed room with a man at work and keep my breath steady
edit a book that makes me believe in love and magic
make one real friend and don’t spend the whole time waiting for them to leave
spend one whole day alone on purpose and have fun
unpack every box and hang art without measuring
drive the Strip by myself and not shake
learn my way around the city by heart without maps
say no once and don’t apologize after
“I crossed some of them off,” she says.“Some I… didn’t.”
I read each line.“We’ll spend our whole lives writing and re-writing bucket lists, Lindy, darling,” I tell her.“I promise you.”
“I’ve lived more with you than I ever would’ve with that list,” she whispers.“It’s scary at times but not in the way you think.Mila was my best friend in the entire world and one day she looked through me and decided we were strangers.”
“You want to fix it?”
“No.I begged her to the point of being pathetic to explain and she refused.You showed me that I shouldn’t have to beg to be wanted.I may never know why she cut me off the way she did, but I’m done letting the unknown decide how I live.I choose the ones who stay.I choose the Accord.I choose you.”
“Just like that?”
“I bled for it.Gives a woman perspective.”She laughs and then winces at the pain.“I love you Cassius.Everything else is,” she shrugs her shoulders.“Just everything else.”
Later that evening, a different nurse returns to bully me, clean and re-tape my wounds.I let her, but only because I know Lindy will be next.
“Separate rooms,” the nurse announces.
“No,” I say.
“It’s policy.”
“New policy,” I say, nodding at Lindy’s bed.“She stays and I don’t kill anyone.”They cave.They always cave when the alternative is me.
Recovery is nasty.It takes days to breathe around the chest wound without sounding like a punctured tire.Watching Lindy try to sit up with a belly full of stitches and the bruises from those bastards’ boots is the most heartbreaking thing I’ve ever witnessed.If I could take her pain, I would.I’d take all of it.
Our meds come together.I make sure she swallows hers.I take the antibiotics; I refuse the pain meds.I want to be conscious for her nightmares.
The Accord filters through in quiet waves.Dead Man’s Hand comes in full leather cuts and silver jewelry, and I can hear their fucking bikes roaring in and out of the parking lot all the way from my room.Marco smirks and sets a paper bag on my tray.Espresso and cannoli, because he’s a sentimental bastard.
Sava never crosses the threshold when Adrian’s around.
Uncle Leven arrives a few days later.He fills the doorway without moving, grief and iron stitched into the same suit.He doesn’t touch me.He never does but he stands close enough that I can smell winter on his coat.He surprises me when he kisses the top of Lindy’s head and says, “I’m happy you’re okay, Melinda.”
Eland follows with his fancy-ass leather folio and a look that says he’s already fixed three problems I haven’t thought of yet.“Hospital admin’s paperwork now reflects a carjacking gone wrong.”He glances at Lindy.“If anyone asks you about what happened, direct them to me.”
“What do I say?”she asks.
“You tell them you don’t talk without your lawyer and give them my card.I’ll leave some with you,” Eland takes one of the seats by the window.Uncle Leven is still standing.
