27
When Uma woke up, she could hear him hammering away. Only it wasn’t just a sound or a rhythm; it was everything she had left ofhim. She closed her eyes, imagining his capable hands in her hair, his eyes devouring her body and—as she had every day in the week since everything blew apart—she got up, in nothing but a tank top and underwear, and sat by the window to listen. Each clang of his hammer was a punch to her stomach. To her heart. And though he’d come by a few times, had even thrown pebbles at her damn window one night, she couldn’t do it. How could she ever trust him again?
Even with the leaves mostly off the trees, she couldn’t see Ivan’s workshop past the bend in the drive. And she’d tried.
From down the hall came the sound of Cookie getting up, her slow steps a little lighter for all the excitement. God, the woman was so happy about everything that had happened. Joey in jail, her mom making an effort—at least what felt like one. Jessie visiting in the evenings, her adorable son in tow. Cookie was in heaven with all the company.
So, why aren’t I happy?
Stupid question.
When Cookie’s wailing got too strident to ignore, Uma opened her door, still half-naked, and called down the hall, “Hold your horses, Cookie. I’ll be right there.”
“’Bout time. What is it I pay you the big bucks for, again?”
“Yeah, right.” Uma smiled. She had access to her money again and didn’t need Cookie anymore, but she wasn’t ready to go. Soon, but not yet.
That evening, Jessie came to the house alone with beers in tow. The women sat out on the back steps, drinking together and watching the sunset.
“When’s your next treatment?”
“Couple days.”
“What’s it like?”
“Hurts like crazy.”
“Worse than getting ’em?”
“It’s relative, I guess. Yes? No, because…” Uma’s voice trailed off as she pressed her wrist to her face.MINE, it said. And it was.
“So, when’re you moving out of this place?”
Uma shrugged, not quite willing to look at the other woman.
“Oh man. I can see it already. You and Cookie, old as the hills, deaf and blind, yelling at each other as always.”
They shared a smile at the image and tilted their beers back to their mouths.
After a breath and a pause, Jessie asked, “So, you talked to him yet?”
Uma didn’t need to see where Jessie was looking to know whom she meant. “No.”
“You should.”
“I plan to. I needed time to think.”
“You done?”
“Pretty much.”
“What d’you come up with?”
“I’m crazy about your brother. I just can’t be with another man who makes decisions for me.”
“Oh, girl, I get that. Trust me. But you know what happened with him, right?”
Uma raised her brows and looked at Jessie while she took another deep slug of the beer. Geez, she’d downed it fast. Yeah, well, she had an excuse.
