Must have earbuds in.
I wonder if she’s pacing. Or if she’s sitting on the porch swing down there. If her shoulders are slumped as much as the defeat in her voice suggests they would be.
Or maybe I need to quit thinking about her.
Realizing exactly how much she has in common with Ava.
Having old memories surface again that I don’t want.
Old feelings of inadequacy.
“I’m with friends… We’ve been over this, Mom. I can’t—oh. Hi, Dad… No, I’m not trying to disrespect Mom, I just need?—”
Weird swishing noises drift up from the basement patio below.
Weird noises that sound like?—
“What?” Cricket says louder, then she makes more staticky noises with her mouth.
I’d bet a hundred grand I don’t have that’s what she’s doing.
“I’m break—wrong—signal—swoosh cack swooooo kick kick kick—call back?—”
And then all goes silent.
All except for one loud, anguished sob.
Just one.
“You don’t need them, Cricket,” I hear her say. “They’re bigger dicks than the rhinestone dick on your shirt, and they don’t deserve you.”
Fucking heart.
It’s cracking in two.
All for a woman I don’t want living in my house for reasons that I still can’t fully articulate.
But this is what happens here at Makepeace Cellars.
Women arrive at their lowest.
And they leave at their strongest.
This life here?
It’s not about me. I could leave anytime.
But these women are what Lav needs.
And so I need to do my part too.
I glare at the cat. “Stay,” I say.
She swishes her tail disobediently, and I know I’ll find her stuck again when I get back up here.
But that’s the cat’s problem.
My problem is opening the gate to the stairs that lead down to the basement patio and making myself walk down them.
