He’s come so far. Why the fuck couldn’t I see it?
“It didn’t go well?”
“Started out ok,” I say, smiling at the memory. “He let them put him in a suit. Buttoned it up and
everything. He had the tie knotted, and stood there for a few seconds, then went ‘nope’ and stripped
right there in the middle of the store. Just tossed everything at the salesman and strolled through the
store in his underwear and socks.”
She giggles, muffling them against her knees. She does that at work too. Cover her laugh with her
hand, or cut it off.
“Why do you do that? Hide your laugh? It’s a really good laugh, Maya.”
A flush comes to her cheeks, one that doesn’t have anything to do with that fucking dress. “I…I
don’t know. It’s become a habit, I guess. One I never managed to get rid of.”
“But why? Did you have fucked up teeth? Or snort when you laugh?”
“No, nothing like that. My mother just preferred I not make any noise.”
“Wait…what? How does that work? Kids are loud and messy, and take up a lot of space.” I
should know. I raised one.
She twists her lips. “She couldn’t handle that. She needed things calm.”
“Then why the hell did she have kids?”
“I asked her that once. She said it was my dad’s idea. She wanted to keep him happy, so she
agreed. In the end, it didn’t matter, anyway.”
I rub the back of my neck, realizing there is so much more to Maya that I know. “Why didn’t it
matter?”
“He died, and later she ended up dying alone from something that was totally preventable.”
“She got sick?”
“Yeah. Pneumonia. She died in her apartment when I was twenty. By the time she died, she hadn’t
set foot outside of it in nineteen years.”
23
MAYA
I didn’t know men could be breathtaking, but Zach, sitting on the floor next to the tub, chest bare,
warm eyes fixed on me? His picture should be in the dictionary next to the word. I miss
dictionaries. There’s something so hypnotic about turning the pages.
