“Shit,” he mumbled against my lips.
“Something for me to continue with while you’re gone.” I smoothed my hand over the front of his suit pants.
He cleared his throat. “Give me a moment, or that driver will get the wrong idea.”
I laughed and took a step back, allowing him to breathe and let that hard-on subside. He hid it behind the jacket he was holding as he kissed me once again on his way out.
“Puss-puss, Oliver,” I called after him, remembering the Swedish phrase he had taught my sons.
He looked back, and his smile, more than anything, was what I took to bed with me that night.
I was using his bedroom now. It was full of new memories—fears admitted, love declared, happiness discovered. In this room, and other parts of the house, Oliver and I made love, fucked, completed each other, swathing wounds, healing voids, and filling soul-deep craters. This house in Wayford still wasn’t my natural habitat, though beautiful things were easy to get used to. But I knew that Oliver needed a home to come back to. Not justahouse,somehouse, this, that, or another; but someplace stable. He had done enough roaming.
I had lied to myself when I’d said that Vi’s room was just a room. It had been her home, and it still weighed on me that someone else, no matter how sweet, was living there now. So, this house, for a start, had to be it for Oliver.
I had done my own share of drifting in recent months and needed stability, but I had anchors, a family, and I wanted to bethatfor him.
After Oliver left for London, I drove Pretty to June’s shop in the Wayford branch.
She was alone at the counter, though there were people perusing the display inside.
“Your key,” I said to June’s back.
She turned around.
“Thanks again, June, for everything.”
“Roomier, huh?” She smiled, probably because my face was hot and red.
“That, too. You already guessed. Oliver and I …” My smile and the way I exhaled completed my sentence for me.
“I’m happy for you, January.”
“Thank you. How are you?”
“Same ol’,” she replied flatly. I could have sworn she tried to resist it, but her gaze drifted to the customers on the other side of the shop.
I followed it. Two women, about June’s age, classic Wayforders in their stylish just-out-of-yoga-class outfits, were chatting to a tall man in a dark tee, whose arms and back might have been the result of a gym, too. However, something about the tattoos on his arms and the back of his neck told me that if it were a gym, it wasn’t one in Wayford. I couldn’t understand what he was saying, but he spoke with his hands a lot, and his gestures indicated he was recommending what I assumed were food supplements. From the way they smiled and ogled him, he could have charmed them to buy the entire store.
“New employee?”
June brought her eyes back to me. “Temporary only,” she replied, as if surprised by the question.
Even with his back to me, he didn’t look like someone I would imagine June hiring. He also didn’t wear the sage-colored thick organic cotton apron she and her employees usually wore.
“Failing June the Prune’s standards even during the test drive?” I teased.
June scoffed. “Let me know if you need something, pool house or no pool house.”
When she didn’t add anything beyond that, I quoted her, “This family has secrets. Tell me when you feel you can.” I then reached over the counter and hugged her.
I drove Pretty to Riviera View and picked up the plaque that I had ordered for Vi. She didn’t want her ashes scattered but disposed of by the funeral home, and she didn’t want a headstone. All she had asked for was a plaque on the bench under her favorite tree in Sandy Hills’ garden, and she had me hand a sealed envelope to the shop owner. Now I received a rectangle brass plaque and could practically hear Vi’s voice when I read the inscription.
To all the sad sops who read this, stop being sad sops. Here’s a tree, above it is the sky, around it is green grass, and beyond it is the ocean. If you haven’t done anything for yourself yet, now’s your last chance, so take it. I was Vi, and this is my mic drop.
I sat on a bench outside the shop on Ocean Avenue, wiped tears, and called the group chat.
“Which one of you helped Vi with the inscription?” I asked after reading it to them.
