I worked for an hour but was too restless, so I left my apartment again and began walking. “Measuring the city with his feet,” my nonna used to say. I could walk for hours. “You’re finishing your shoes, and then you’ll need new ones,” my mom used to complain.
When I started working for Luigi, I could afford a pair of good walking shoes without having to break into cars. Now I could afford much more.
My phone vibrated in my pocket as I walked along Dolores Park. Extracting it, I found a message from Jerry.
“Happy Wedding Day!” He had attached the picture of June and me in City Hall.
I stopped and skimmed my eyes over her face, memorizing her features—the high cheekbones, the smooth skin with few laugh lines, how a strand of hair fell over her eye and caressed the edge of her mouth as she leaned her head toward mine. I almost wanted to touch the screen and tuck it back for her.
Despite her smile, she looked trapped. I felt sorry for her and hoped that what she got out of this deal was worth it.
As for me, thanks to her, in a few weeks, I’d get my status approved and wouldn’t have to leave my dreams an ocean away.
5
June
“That invoice doesn’t match,” Rio said.
“What?” I mumbled, my eyes stuck on the date.
It was my one-month wedding anniversary.
A week of agonizing over what I had done was all I had given myself before stuffing it all into the back of my mind so I could get on with my life, debt-free. A huge load had been lifted off my shoulders, and I allowed myself to enjoy the success of my new store in Wayford without beating myself over it. Without the mortgage cost, the shop’s revenue covered every other expense and had made a small yet growing profit.
The date on the seaweed powder invoice now played as an unsavory reminder of a day that felt as if it had happened to someone else.
“This invoice, it doesn’t match,” Rio repeated, pointing at the relevant lines.
I cleared my throat. “Yes. Um … it’s the second time … Um … I’ll talk to them.”
Rio looked at me through narrowed eyes. “You okay? You look kind of pale.” She tilted her head in concern.
“Everything’s perfect, except this invoice,” I said with a forced, confident smile.
This memento, too, I stored in a corner of my mind, along with thoughts of Angelo Marchesi while stocking the shelves. I then continued with my routine. Jogs on the beach, yoga on a mat in my living room, visiting my mom, Tammy, and the kids, talking to January’s twins in college, especially Lennox, who had boyfriend problems.
“Ever since we moved into the same dorm room, all we do is fight,” Lennox said over our video call. “If I leave anything an inch from where it was supposed to be, he’s all over my case. It’s like living in a museum.”
“I’m probably the wrong person to ask for advice on that.” I could see my own face in a square at the bottom of the screen, all scrunched apologetically. I had once broken up with a guy because he used to leave his clothes all over the place hours after we had discarded them for two minutes of sex. Hours of disarray versus the two minutes he had lasted. To paraphrase Elaine fromSeinfeld, he wasn’t disorder-worthy. So far, I hadn’t met anyone who was.
“Becauseyou’re so organized you can tell me what it’s like for the other side.” Lennox chuckled.
I wasn’t even the cool aunt. I was the tight-ass aunt. But at least one who could be trusted. Lennox had come out to me first, but he said it was because he thought I was gay, too.
“You’re not?”
I remembered him looking puzzled when I’d told him that I wasn’t.
“It’s just that you never … I just assumed …” There had been no need to finish that sentence—Lennox had never heard me speak of a man or even date in general. I had never dated anyone long enough to introduce them to my family.
“Might have been easier for me if I were,” I had said back then and made him laugh.
“Not too late.” He had patted my arm twice as if he were the adult trying to pep-talkme.
“If he’sthatorganized, there’s something deeper there that makes it a necessity for him. Try talking to him about it, but not when you’re in the middle of a fight,” I ended up telling Lennox.
“It’salmostlike you know what you’re talking about.” He smirked and winked at the camera. “I knew you could help me. Love you, June.”
