“No? You were locked onto me last night so tight that I couldn’t even turn over. You’d have asked me to wait and I would have.” He looked away. “I didn’t want to.”
“Better to ask for forgiveness than permission, huh?” I’d lived that way, but I’d never figured Ro would pull that on me. Never figured he’d strip the connective threads that bound us with his manipulations. Funny how fast “doing better and doing this together” flew out the window when it didn’t fit with Ro’s wants. I crushed the remnants of my bagel into a pulpy mess and tossed it onto the grass. “If I ask you to wait, then convince me otherwise. Don’t sneak around.” I jabbed a finger into his chest. “You know who sneaks around, Ro? Addicts.”
And addictions never ended well.
“Here comes the melodrama.” He stomped up the stairs.
“Better than the death wish.”
“Oh, okay. You fight the oshk and you take down the Brotherhood. I’ll just sit here enveloped in bubble wrap and you tell me when it’s safe to move.”
I jumped to my feet. “I have a better idea. How about you pull your head out of your ass and examine your behavior? You’re spiraling. Acting on emotion, not logic. Great way to get yourself killed.”
“Spare me the bullshit. You want this blown open more than I do.”
“I thought I did.” I clenched the coffee cup, stifling the urge to chuck it at him. “But you’re getting obsessed. Running full tilt on everything. You need to slow down. You were the one who said we were in this together.”
“We are,” he growled.
“Then keep your promise. And don’t break us.”
16
Naomi and Christina’s dingy lobby had been renovated since the last time I’d been here, the new flashy disco tiles in varying shades of sea green a dazzling pop upon entry. The faded red carpet in the hallways had been ripped out and replaced with hardwood which brightened things up, but the plaster was still cracked in the far corner and the ill-fitting stairwell door still stuck.
Amazing how easy it was to make something look surface shiny. Kind of like the smile I’d perfected on the drive over.
I knocked on their door, balancing a cardboard tray with coffee cups and a large brown paper bag. Christina opened the apartment door and I held up the bag. “I brought bagels with lox and cream cheese.”
“From Siegel’s?”
“Where else.”
She grinned, taking the bag from me and calling out for Naomi to join us. I braced myself but other than the turtleneck sweater Naomi wore that was out of place on this beautiful June day, there was no sign of what she’d suffered. Externally, at least.
“I got you chicken noodle soup because I wasn’t sure you were eating solids after the surgery.” I handed Naomi the take-out container and plastic spoon, half-expecting her to throw it back at me. Definitely expecting her to say something cutting.
“Thank you,” she said in a raspy voice, her throat still healing. She took it and curled up on the corner of the sofa.
I grabbed my own sandwich and sat down, making bright chatter with Christina about all the beach traffic on my drive over. The conversation progressed to a restaurant we’d both heard good things about and on to the mind-numbing topic of our recent weather. If we discussed house prices, we’d have run through the greatest hits of Vancouverite small talk.
Even though Christina was keeping up her end of the conversation, she kept shooting glances at Naomi like she was waiting for her to tell me something.
I pushed my mostly uneaten sandwich away, wondering if I should make my excuses and leave.
“I’m quitting the firm.” Naomi put the soup on the table, pulled a worn fleece blanket off the back of the sofa, and laid it across her legs.
I did a double take a Naomi’s words. “Why? You sounded so glad about making associate soon.”
“She was happy about what her parents would think,” Christina said. “She’s going to put herself first for a change and go traveling. Rock climb in Copper Canyon and slackline in the Moab Desert.”
“I’ll go back to law eventually, but not in the corporate world. The attack…” Naomi fiddled with the spoon. “It put a lot of things into perspective. Made me realize it was time to go for things I didn’t think I deserved.”
Christina smiled at Naomi and took her hand.
“Oh. Oh.” I said. “Good for you two. I’m sorry for being kind of a bitch to you all those years, Naomi, and I can’t really discuss it but I wasn’t lying when I said I was in the security business. I promise you that we’re going to get those responsible for the Sweet Tooth.”
“I’m sorry, too,” she said.
“Now that we’re all friends,” Christina said.
“Weellll,” Naomi and I said in unison and laughed.
Christina glared at us. “Shut up or I’ll hurt you both.”
“Vicious. Good luck with that,” I said to Naomi.
She shot Christina a heated look. “I like her feisty.”
I covered my ears. “Nope.”
Christina kicked her foot out at me. “I think we should all go out sometime soon. You can bring hot stuff that you’re dating.”
“I’d like that.” Something good was coming out of the Sweet Tooth tragedy after all. I needed, no, I wanted more friends in my life. It was an unexpected victory. Our lunch relaxed into a much more upbeat affair after that, though I couldn’t stay long. With firm promises to get together soon, we said our goodbyes and I headed for the hospital.
Along with visiting Naomi and Christina, seeing Dr. Gelman out of isolation and surrounded by flowers and get well cards went a long way to brightening my shitty morning.
“You can’t portal.” Dr. Gelman took a bite of the fruit compote on her tray and made a face.
“Out of everything I’ve told you, that’s the part you’re most interested in?”
“One thing at a time. Portalling is elimination magic.”
“Which Rasha have.”
“Not that type of elimination magic. You eliminate demon life, not the spaces between two points.” She pointed her knife at me. “Don’t be obstreperous.”
“I’m not difficult.”
She hid a smile like she hadn’t expected me to understand. That Word of the Day app was brilliant.
“Ari shadow transports,” I said.
She poked through the rest of her food. “That definitely shouldn’t be possible.”
“It is if I’m a witch and Ari got some kind of echo of some of my ability.”
“Figured that out all by yourself, did you?” She pursed her lips. “It’s our fault, really, for not seeing the obvious. There wouldn’t be a female Rasha. That’s redundant.”
“You agree?”
“Yes. I pronounce you witch.” She tapped my shoulder with an imaginary wand. “Welcome to the club.”
I still wasn’t convinced I wanted to be a member. “No badge? No cake?”
“Here. Mazel tov.” Gelman pushed the corner of her tray with the bland white cake square close to me.
“Pass, thanks. The sticking point in all this is that my magic is pink, not red.”
“That’s because you’re a mess.” She wiped her mouth and threw her napkin on the tray, covering the food.