He points toward the back of the parking lot where Rome waits in Micah’s car. He must’ve texted him to bring it here.
“I figured you’d want to go our separate ways after this.”
He thought right.
“Thank you.” I pause. “And thank you for getting me here.”
“You’re welcome, Dani.” He pats me on my shoulder and steps away from me.
I don’t know what makes me do it, but I grab his wrist. “That’s it? You’ve been fighting to be in my space all day.” Not that I want him to. Of course I don’t. It’s just odd.
He smirks. “Didn’t you read the letter? We’re about to be seeing a lot of each other.”
His words ring in my ears long after he pulls out of the parking lot.
Chapter Three
Micah
FOR AS LONG ASICAN REMEMBER, LITTLESUNSHINE’SDaycare has been as much a fixture in our family as any person. I went there. Bailey went there. My mom worked there for a long time, and then I bought it for her, so now she owns it.
I’ve watched this place transform and adapt over the years. It’s grown with the times and with the leadership, but one thing that’s always been the same is the dedication to the kids there. My mom has boxes and boxes of every piece of artwork ever given to her.
Right now, I’m helping her gather a few of those boxes to take home from the closet in her office. A couple of the kids are aging out of the center, as it serves children only up to ten years old, so my mom wants to make them something using their own art.
She tried to convince me not to come, but being around family is what I need right now.
“How was the service, Mi?” she asks once we’re settled in the car.
“It was … a lot.” I sigh. My head is still spinning from Tanya’s letter and everything thrown at Dani and me. “Can I ask you a question about Chi Chi?”
Chi Chi was my aunt Monica. I have no idea where I got that name from. I started calling her that when I was little and it just stuck. Mom was distraught when she lost her only sister. We all were, but the mere mention of her name visibly pierced a hole in my mom’s heart for a long time after. I was a teenage ball of rage when she died, but my mom was a mass of pure despair. Now, she says it brings her peace to talk about Chi Chi, but I like to test the waters first.
The orbs of her eyes well with tears. “Of course you can.”
I’ve been thinking about her a lot more since Tanya’s passing. Tanya and Chi Chi would’ve liked each other; they were cut from the same cloth. I have no doubt that they’ve become the best of friends in the afterlife.
“Was there anything you learned about her after she died that surprised you?”
“Hmm, I learned she had terrible taste in dresses.”
“Dresses?” I need to make sure I heard her right, because I think I saw Chi Chi in a dress only once in my life.
“Yep. When I finally found the will to clean out her house, she had a stash of dresses in the back of her closet. I don’t know what she had them for, but every single one of them was hideous. One of them was literally the color of vomit. Do you remember when we had pot roast for Easter one year and you threw it up? You were so disgusted that you could see pieces of beef and carrots in the toilet that you refused to eat anything beef-related for months? It looked like that.”
“That’s … descriptive.” I shiver as she snickers. “And she had never mentioned them to you before?”
“Nope. Why do you ask?”
I tell her about Tanya’s will and the scavenger hunt Dani and I will need to embark on.
“Are you worried about what you’re gonna find out about her?”
“No. Well, yes.” Having to plan the gala and auction is daunting, but I’m confident we can put something together that will make Tanya proud. Her letter made it sound like what we would learn on this scavenger hunt would tear our worlds apart, and that has me a bit on edge. Finding out about her cancer when it was already too late was shocking enough.
“Well, let me ask you this. Is there anything you could learn about Tanya that would make you love her less?”
“No.” That’s never been a question.
