Heart Breaths (15 page)

“You’re not running,” I said, keeping an eye out for the fire, trying not to stare at his spectacular chest.

“Because you’re burning things. In your pajamas.”

Shit.
He noticed.

“Stop being such a worry wart,” I said, rolling my eyes. Glancing down at the newspaper, I saw that most of it had been burned, and the fire was crackling merrily. Picking up the pot of water I had brought with me, I dumped the contents on top of the fire. “Happy now? No more fire, so now you can run again.”

“I swear to God, Maddie, you are the most confusing person I’ve ever met.”

“Because I burn newspapers in my pajamas?”

His eyes burned a trail down me as he took in my pajamas. Dammit, when would I learn to keep my mouth shut around him?

“Oh, the pajamas don’t bother me,” he said, a wolfish smile curving over his face. “I’d just prefer for you not to play with fire.”

All rational thought fled. “Isn’t that what I’m doing right now?” I asked, hearing the sultriness in my voice.

I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “I would go with yes.”

The two of us stared at each other—me, with my arms still crossed over my chest, him with his hands on his hips, glistening with sweat.

I was milliseconds away from forgetting about why this was the worst idea ever and jumping him.

“I should keep running, now that we’ve established you aren’t going to light yourself on fire,” he said, his voice a little raspy. “Next time you try something like that, I’m going to hose you down to make sure you don’t turn into a human torch.”

Everything stopped as the scene flashed through my mind. Me, dripping wet. Gabe, shirtless.

Oh God, if he didn’t leave soon, I was not going to be responsible for whatever happened next.

His eyes met mine, and, for a second, I thought he was going to make a move. I wouldn’t have stopped him. But he just turned around and kept running.

I watched the play of muscles in his back as he ran off, and tried to get my breath back. The man was dangerous. And apparently more dangerous before all his coffee than after. Geez, some people shouldn’t be allowed to communicate before ingesting a gallon of coffee. I picked up the soggy scraps that remained from my petty revenge fire. And for my sake, Gabriel Mendez was obviously one of them.

He was such a contradiction, I brooded as I showered and got dressed later that morning. So nice and sweet and full of understanding one moment, so damn grumpy the next. Friend-zoned one minute, almost having sex the next. Shrugging to myself, I lined my eyes with eyeliner.

It was him. It wasn’t me.

Right?

And anyway, it he wasn’t my problem. I didn’t care.

I didn’t.

Really.

Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I jogged down the stairs to the café, ready to tackle another day filled with coffee, gossip, and Southern drawls.

Of all the things I thought that would make me happy in a job, working in a café had never been on the list. Yet here we were.

And I was happy.

“Mozzarella on rye?” I asked Petey as he grinned at me, with more holes in his mouth than teeth.

“How did you know?” he asked, flabbergasted.

“You’ve ordered the same thing every day since I started here,” I said, leaning over to pour him a cup of coffee. “I’ll have it for you in a minute.”

Turning to take out the already prepped sandwich, I buttered both sides and stuck it in the panini press off to the side.

“Looks like you’re feeling better,” Sam said, leaning over the counter. “Oh, is that a panini?”

“It’s Petey’s,” I replied. “Want one?”

“Yeah,” she said enthusiastically. “Didn’t have time to eat breakfast at home this morning.”

“Do you ever eat breakfast at home?” I teased.

“Yeah, when I’m there overnight,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Sam!” I drawled, prepping another sandwich. “You shameless hussy, you.”

“Hell, yeah, I’m a shameless hussy,” she practically crowed. “A very well-satisfied shameless hussy, thank you very much.”

“Don’t need to hear details,” I said laughing as I flipped the sandwiches. “My ears need to maintain their innocence.”

“You’ve been hanging around me for around a month. And you work for Grandma Evelyn. How much innocence do you think you’ve still got, girl?” she teased.

I fluttered my eyelashes at her. “I’m an innocent child,” I said, checking the sandwiches before removing Petey’s, plating it, and serving it to him.

Her eyes widened. “Are you still a virgin?” she whispered.

I burst into laughter. I hadn’t been a virgin since I was fourteen years old. “Not even close,” I laughed. Okay, I had only slept with two guys. So there was that to consider. But I hadn’t been a virgin in quite a long time.

“Oh, well then,” she said.

“You staying with this sandwich or you going to work?” I asked, eyeing the panini.

“Going to work,” she said. “I’m opening this morning for Jessica.”

“Jessica usually opens? The manicure lady?”

Sam laughed. “Maddie, Jessica owns the salon.”

I think my eyes nearly popped out of my head. “She does?”

She nodded. “She doesn’t always do manicures—Celia Mae was sick that day.”

“Oh,” I said, remembering how sweet she had been with Noie. “Noie’s fingers still pink?”

“Just barely,” Gabe said, walking up behind Sam and mussing her hair a bit. “Hey, little brat.”

“Hey, big brat,” she replied, reaching up to mess with his hair.

He looked at her sideways. “Sam, did you have a shaving accident or something?” he asked, looking at the side of her head, perplexed. “I thought you stopped the drunk haircuts.”

“Drunk haircuts?” I echoed, pouring Gabe a cup of coffee and adding the twelve pounds of sugar and cream I knew he drank it with. There was more cream than coffee in that cup.

“Gabe!” Sam protested. “I told you not to talk about it!”

“Well, I hadn’t, until you obviously did it again,” he said, reaching to touch the triangle.

“No, dummy, I did that on purpose!” she said, exasperated.

“Why?” he asked, completely confused. I laughed as I went to package up Sam’s sandwich.

“Because I wanted to,” she said. “Duh.”

“Oh, well, then,” he said. “That makes total sense.”

“Well, I think it’s cool,” she said stubbornly and unconcerned, obviously having had conversations like these more than once before with him. “And it’s not like I’m shaving your head or something.”

“No shaving my head until I start balding,” he said, smiling as I pushed the cup of coffee toward him.

I glared at him as he reached into his pocket for his wallet. “So help you God,” I threatened. “If you try to pay, I will pour the coffee on your head.”

“Why is he getting free coffee?” Sam asked. “Is my sandwich free, too?”

“You didn’t have to suffer the heart attack of thinking she was lighting herself on fire this morning,” he said, scowling back at me a little and returning his wallet to his pocket. “This coffee is instead of paying for a therapist.”

“You are such a drama king,” I scoffed as Sam looked at me wide-eyed. “What?”

“What does he mean, he thought you were lighting yourself on fire?” she demanded.

“Your brother has an overactive imagination, and he saw me burning something this morning and apparently thought it was me,” I said, glancing at the clock. “You’re gonna be late for opening if you don’t leave soon.”

“Shit!” she exclaimed, seeing the time. Paying quickly, she grabbed her sandwich and coffee and looked at me. “This conversation is so not over,” she said. “And anyway, I have super fun plans for tonight.”

“Lord save me from your super fun plans,” I fake groaned. “And you’re right—this conversation isn’t over, because we haven’t talked about the drunk haircuts.”

“I hate you, Gabe,” she sang as she rushed out of the café, leaving him chuckling behind her.

“Need anything else this morning?” I asked, wiping down the counter as Gabe picked back up the coffee cup and took a sip.

“Damn, this is good coffee,” he said, surprised.

“That’s not coffee, that’s cream with coffee flavoring,” I said. “But thanks.”

“The conversation isn’t over yet,” he said, reaching to pick up his briefcase. “But I’m going to work now, so you’re off the hook for a bit.”

Oh, it was
so
over.

“Whatever you say,” I answered sweetly as he gave me a baleful stare. “Have a good day at work, dear.”

A brilliant smile flashed across his face. “Thanks,” he said, turning to go. “Hey Maddie?”

“Hmm?”

“Noie misses you,” he said simply, and walked out of the café.

That man.

Chapter · Fifteen

“Good morning, darling!” Mrs. Mendez said, startling me out of my rearranging of the pastries for the second time that afternoon.

“Hi, Mrs. Mendez,” I greeted her, smiling at the resemblance of her smile and Sam’s. “How’s everything?”

“Just wonderful,” she beamed. “Can we have some chocolate milk and a glass of sweet tea?”

I leaned over the counter to see Noie, clutching the doll that I had given her as a birthday present. My heart clenched a little, and I breathed out. “Are you having a tea party?” I asked, reaching to stroke Noie’s cheek.

“Yeah! Grandma said we can drink it here like grownups!” Noie said, thrilled. “And I brought dolly with me, too.”

“I see,” I said, gathering ingredients for the chocolate milk. “Is she going to have a drink too?”

“No,” she said. “She’s too little.”

“Does she have a name?” I asked.

“Yeah, her name is Devi.”

“Also Devi?” I asked, curious.

She nodded. “Devi said that it was a good name for a doll baby, and she’s not going to be here for so long, so my doll baby should also be Devi.”

She’s not going to be here for so long.

What did that mean?

Was I losing my mind, thinking that maybe Noie was actually seeing my daughter, who had been dead for three years? Probably.

“Gotcha,” I said, trying to brush off the what if thoughts that kept nagging me.

Pouring a glass of sweet tea for Mrs. Mendez and adding a pink straw to Noie’s chocolate milk, I passed over the drinks and watched them go sit down at a table, Noie chattering away and Mrs. Mendez nodding and smiling.

My mother never did that with Devi.

It was her loss, I told myself. Her loss, and her fault.

I had tried. God, I had tried so hard to get her to spend time with Devi. Her only grandchild. She had been so mad when I told her I was pregnant—and even more furious when she realized I was keeping the baby. It shouldn’t have surprised me, when they kicked me out that night—but it did. Maybe I had always hoped that deep down, she really did love me. At least a little bit. And so I had asked. Not for myself, but for Devi. She already had one grandmother, but I wanted her to have two.

She had said no. Not only had she said no… I shuddered, remembering.

“I don’t know who you are,” she said, her voice cold.

“Mom…”

“I only have one daughter, and she’s not a homeless slut.”

Devi started to cry, her face scrunching up in the time-old meaning of “Mommy, I’m tired.”

“And make that… child of yours stop crying. Really. Don’t you know how to control it?”

She made her decision.

I sighed. Now it was too late for anything. I glanced toward Mrs. Mendez again and wished that I had a mother more like her.

“Sam, you need to stop with the surprises,” I said as I climbed into her car.

“But they’re fun,” she protested, reaching over and turning the music up. “Stop being a worry-wart, you’ll be fine.”

“Where are we going?” I asked as the car swung around the corner and headed down a side street.

“First to pick up the girls, then to go to our super-secret undisclosed location,” she said.

“One day, I’m going to super-secret you to an undisclosed location,” I grumped. “And then I’m going to feed you to a shark or something.”

“Threats, threats, threats,” she laughed as we pulled up in front of Hannah’s house. “I’m terrified.”

“Of what?” Hannah asked, climbing into the back seat.

“Maddie’s threatened to feed me to a shark because I’m not telling her where we’re going,” Sam said, driving toward Mary Elizabeth’s house.

“You didn’t tell her?” Hannah asked. “Why not?”

“Because it would ruin the surprise,” Sam explained patiently. “Duh.”

“You and your surprises,” Hannah laughed.

I twisted in my seat and looked at Hannah. “Wanna tell me where we’re going?” I asked.

She laughed. “Not if I value my life,” she said. “Because if I tell you, then Sam will actually feed me to the sharks.”

“She would,” agreed Mary Elizabeth, sliding into the car.

“I hate surprises,” I groaned as the three of them burst out laughing.

“I let you do your own hair this time, didn’t I?” Sam asked, driving out of the town limits and toward the highway. “And your own makeup?”

“Yes, and thank you for that generous concession,” I replied, smiling a bit.

“I’m so generous, aren’t I?” she sighed, ruining the effect by giggling.

“Okay, really, where are we going?” I asked, watching as we neared the bridge.

“So, Hannah, how’s school?” Sam said, sticking her tongue out at me.

“Semester is almost over, thank you, Lord,” she drawled. “And then I’ll be done forever.”

“Where are you in school?” I asked, unaware that she even was in college at all.

“In nursing school,” she said. “This is my last semester.”

“Really? That’s awesome!” I said, remembering the thrill of the last semester.

“I know!” she sang. “And then I’ll never ever ever have to go to school again.”

I started laughing. “Best thing ever,” I agreed. “There are not that many happier days in your life than the day you finish college.”

“You went to college?” Mary Elizabeth asked.

I nodded. “Yup.”

“Where?”

“In New York.”

“Oooooh, Maddie went to college in New York,” Sam sang as she drove down the highway.

“I lived there, silly,” I said, rolling my eyes. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Shh, you’re ruining my fantasies of your life,” she scolded. “Shopping on Fifth Avenue, all those fancy restaurants and Broadway shows and art museums, and oh my God, the salons…”

I smiled, thinking of how close she had actually been to describing my mother’s life.

“Oh, come on, not Soho and the Village?” Mary Elizabeth asked.

“Pssh, the Village,” Sam scoffed, putting on a snooty little voice. “The Village is for talentless little children who think they’re all special. Pfft. None of them have even the slightest bit of taste.”

I burst into bitter laughter, hearing my mother’s voice echo around me in the car. “Did I do a good job?” Sam asked, pulling off the highway.

“Perfect,” I agreed.

“Ha!” she giggled. “I win again!”

“Now do you want to tell me where we’re going?” I asked.

“No.”

“Mary Elizabeth?”

“Oh, hell no,” she said. “I fear the wrath of Sam.”

I turned to look at Sam. I didn’t think she knew how to be wrathful. I looked out the window as the car turned the corner and drove toward the end of a long road.

I looked again. “Sam, are we going to a mall?” I asked, bewildered.

“Ding, ding, ding!” she crowed, pulling into the parking lot. “You win the prize!”

“Why couldn’t you have just told me?” I asked, slightly exasperated.

“Because that’s not all we’re doing,” Mary Elizabeth said as we climbed out of the car.

“And when am I going to find out the rest?”

“When it happens,” Hannah said as we walked toward the mall entrance.

“You guys are impossible,” I said.

Sam reached over and squeezed me. “And that’s why you love us,” she said, smiling.

I smiled back.

I did love them.

The mall was large and airy. I couldn’t even remember the last time I had been in the mall—there really weren’t any in Manhattan. “Okay, I’m still waiting for the surprise,” I said as we walked toward the center, where a large fountain was bubbling.

“Patience,” Sam scolded. “First shopping, then surprising.”

“Fine,” I pouted, but actually kind of excited. I didn’t like shopping—I never had. But something told me that going shopping with Sam, Hannah and Mary Elizabeth was going to be a little different than shopping with my mother or Jen was. Or the personal shoppers at Barneys New York and Neiman Marcus.

“First things first, we need mall bling,” Hannah said, leading the way to a small accessory store.

“Mall bling?” I echoed.

Sam nodded. “This is a time-honored tradition,” she drawled. “Dating back to the fourth grade when Mary Elizabeth and Hannah went to the mall together the first time. You gotta bling yourself up before you go shopping.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Are you questioning the logic of ten-year-old girls?” Mary Elizabeth asked as we walked into the store.

“Not really,” I said, laughing.

It was sweet, that they had been friends for so long. That they had readily accepted Sam when she moved here. How accepting they had been of me.

This is what actual friendship looks like, I reminded myself as we browsed through the accessory store, trying on goofy necklaces and earrings, in search for the perfect mall bling. I had nearly forgotten.

“I found my mall bling,” Sam announced, holding up a huge necklace with the word bitch written out in plastic-y rhinestones.

I burst out laughing. “Classy, Sam, classy.”

She put on the necklace and preened. “I know. I class up this joint, don’t I?”

“Absolutely,” Hannah agreed, picking out a pair of gigantic hoop earrings.

“You sure those are earring and not bangles?” I asked, gaping. Who knew North Carolina did ghetto like that?

Slipping one into her ear, she looked at me. “Proof,” she said, posing.

“Not proof,” I replied. “People stick safety pins in their ears, too. You don’t see that counting as proof that safety pins are jewelry.”

“Some people are weird,” Mary Elizabeth said, still looking for the perfect piece of jewelry. “Where’s your mall bling, girl?”

“Still looking,” I said, trying to find something in the store that I wanted to wear.

It’s all tacky, trashy, pathetic garbage, I could hear my mother say.

I breathed out. Well, it was tacky and trashy, but I was going to wear something anyway.

Looking through the tangles of jewelry and headpieces, I had an idea.

“I have an idea, I think.”

“Spill,” Sam said, still wearing her bitch necklace.

“How about we kick it up one step extra?” I asked, surprised at myself. “Mall bling and mall hats.” I gestured toward the wall of hats.

“Girl, you are brilliant,” Hannah crowed, walking over to the hats before settling on a floppy hat that you could see someone wearing to the Kentucky Derby. “Mall hats. Mary Elizabeth, why didn’t we think of that?”

“Obviously, we aren’t nearly as brilliant as Maddie is,” Mary Elizabeth replied, smiling and scanning through the hats. “Go find your bling first, and then your hat,” she said, shooing me in the direction of the jewelry. Laughing, I walked back toward the jewelry and began to look in earnest.

Ten minutes later, we left the store, each of us looking more ridiculous than the last. I glanced in a mirror to admire my new hat and jewelry. I had gone with a ridiculous, oversized fascinator and a necklace probably tackier than Sam’s—a huge, blinged-out dollar sign. “I am just a stylin’ fool,” I giggled as we walked toward the escalators in the middle of the mall.

“I’m kinda surprised, actually,” Sam said.

“At what?”

“That you’d initiate looking like more of an idiot than we asked you to,” she replied. “Not complaining, just noticing.”

I shrugged. I was surprised myself. “You gonna tell me what the surprise is?” I asked, changing the subject.

“Nooooo,” she sang as we walked toward Victoria’s Secret. “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise anymore.”

The music was loud and bouncy as we walked into Victoria’s Secret. A few of the people gave us weird looks, the hat collection alone causing stares, not to mention the abundance of tacky jewelry we were all wearing.

And even though I was usually the first one to shrink and hide from attention like this, being there with Sam, Hannah and Mary Elizabeth, I kind of felt proud of our ridiculous fashion statements.

“The surprise is going to buy underwear?” I asked as we wandered through the store.

“Nah, surprise is later,” Hannah said, picking up a bra and looking at it critically. “What do you think?”

Tilting my head, I looked at the bra, covered in rhinestones and lace. “Uh, it would probably show through a shirt,” I said.