Chapter Twelve

By the next morning, Gray was still somewhat convinced that her date with Aisha had been an elaborate dream. The lingering tension in her lower back offered physical evidence though. And her regular debrief with Cherry cemented it as real.

"This is proof that the challenge is working!" Cherry said as she handed Gray a washed cutting board to dry. River, meanwhile, was happily watching cartoon dinosaurs rap about the alphabet on a tablet, headphones firmly in place over his ears to block Gray detailing her non-PG date. "So Leos definitely make the short list of signs you're compatible with, right?" Cherry asked.

Gray toweled off the cutting board as she considered Cherry's question. "I don't know," she admitted. "Did we have fun? For sure. Was she beautiful and really cool? Absolutely. Was I attracted to her? Duh, who wouldn't be?" She placed the cutting board on the counter and accepted a wet measuring cup from Cherry to dry next. "But she's way out of my league."

Cherry laughed. "I'm not used to modest Gray."

"I'm being realistic!"

"I know that you know that you're a total catch," Cherry said. "How many queer women have I seen hit on you when we've gone to gay bars? Like, at least one per night out, whenever McKenzie wasn't on your arm. And sometimes then too."

Gray pulled her phone from her pocket and pulled up Aisha's profile, then turned the screen to show Cherry her photos.

"Holy shit," Cherry said, turning off the water and grabbing the phone from Gray's hand. "She's, like, model-level hot."

"That's what I said!"

Cherry scrolled through pictures, the phone only a few inches from her nose. "She looks kind of familiar. Are you sure she isn't an actor or something?"

"Maybe. She was kind of weird about telling me what she does, but I don't have her last name, so I can't really look her up. I tried googling ‘Aisha model' and ‘Aisha actress' and couldn't find her." Gray held out her hand for her phone. "Anyway, I had a great time, but I think my ego is too fragile to be with someone that amazing. I can't be the, like, noticeably less hot and interesting one forever."

Cherry shrugged and turned on the faucet to continue her dishes. "At least you're self-aware enough to recognize that, I guess. But maybe you can still keep Leos on the short list."

"Maybe," Gray said. "Anyway, what's Virgo's deal? That's next, right?"

Cherry made a fake gagging sound. "So boring. Earth signs who love rules." She handed Gray a whisk to dry. "Sorry, I'm biased as a rule-hating Gemini. You should go in with an open mind."

"My mind is as open as a Waffle House during a minor hurricane," Gray said as she held the wet whisk in one hand and opened her Mercurious settings to filter for Virgos with the other. "What should my Virgo icebreaker question be?"

"How they organize closets or something else no one but a Virgo would ever care about," Cherry grumbled.

"Huh. I think the app is down or something," Gray said. "It says ‘No profiles found.'?"

"Makes sense. Virgos are very chaos averse. Dating apps are nothing but chaos."

Gray pocketed her phone and returned to her drying duties. "Well, I'll check again this evening."

Sunday evening brought no more luck when it came to finding a Virgo. But Gray decided to put it out of mind for the time being. With earth signs on the brain, she instead texted Riley the Taurus. They'd been chatting occasionally as the grand opening of Demitasse Café approached, with Gray offering some marketing ideas and connecting Riley with a few of her contacts at local papers. It was all in service of making a new friend and putting down roots in her new city for Gray, but Riley was so grateful for the free advice that she insisted Gray's coffee was always on the house.

Gray knew better than to stay up late on Sunday night prowling for her next date. Her Monday morning meeting with Principal Taylor—was she allowed to call her Veronica at school?—could easily be ruined if Gray was too distracted by her romantic life. She'd had a good interaction with Veronica the previous week, but she wasn't ready to call their professional relationship healed just yet.

And when she arrived at the St. Charles Collegiate Academy principal's office fifteen minutes before their scheduled meeting time, she found her colleague in a particularly sour mood.

"Two hours is completely unacceptable!" Veronica spoke sharply into her desk phone as Gray poked her head through the cracked-open office door. "Tell them to hold the story until we have ample time to respond. Do any of these idiots have any concept of journalistic integrity?"

"Should I come back later?" Gray whispered.

Veronica shook her head and pointed at an empty seat across from her. Gray entered the room and gently lowered herself into the seat, wincing at the pain in her lower spine. "Our PR person is here now. I'll call you back." The principal clicked the phone into its base before whoever was on the other line had a chance to respond.

"What was that about?" Gray asked.

Veronica sighed and smoothed the front of her perfectly ironed burgundy blazer. "The Times-Picayune contacted us because they want to run some ridiculous piece about parents protesting our spring festival."

"Yikes." Gray had heard rumblings of approaching drama at the annual spring festival scheduled for mid-April. Based on what she'd gathered from Superintendent Donovan and the rest of the staff in the administrative offices, it sounded like a group of disgruntled parents were planning to disrupt the event with protest signs about Veronica's new curriculum for Louisiana history lessons. The irony of the parents expressing disapproval of a syllabus that included free speech and civil disobedience with an organized protest was not lost on Gray.

"I guess our meeting couldn't come at a better time. They want a statement by 10 a.m. so they can publish tomorrow." Veronica pressed a few buttons on her computer, causing a printer to the left of her desk to light up. It spat out two sheets of paper, which the principal handed across the desk to Gray.

Gray skimmed the article, wincing at a few particularly egregious quotes accusing the principal of everything from "eroding her students' conviction in their state's distinguished past" to "besmirching the esteemed name of Andrew Jackson," as if Veronica could hurt the feelings of someone long dead.

Gray looked up when she reached a paragraph halfway through the article. "Enrollment has dropped by a third? Is that true?"

"No!" Veronica said, her lips pinched. "But it's not out of the realm of possibility that it could drop that much, especially with nonsense like this in the paper."

Flipping to the second page, Gray said, "Do you know who's behind this?"

"Well, the main parent they interviewed has an axe to grind because her son was pulled off the football team for academic probation," Veronica said. "But since some of the information they have in there is confidential, I have a feeling the reporter got wind of the story directly from the school board."

"Geez, do they want the school to look bad?" Gray asked.

"They want me to look bad," Veronica said, frustration written across her face. "The school is collateral damage."

Gray looked up from the paper, now wrinkled from subconsciously balling her fists. "Aren't they telling on themselves here? Didn't the board vote for you?"

"I won by a narrow margin. Plenty of them didn't want me in charge because I'm a woman, half Dominican, and only thirty-six at that," Veronica said. Gray was a bit surprised at the principal's age; her intensity, way of carrying herself, and leadership position had initially led Gray to believe that she was likely a decade older than thirty-six. "At the time, the board thought of me as someone with a ‘diversity' platform that was good for optics, but their opinions on it changed entirely when they saw I was actually committed to making real changes instead of just planning a couple of vanity professional-development webinars."

Gray laid the printed article on the chair next to her. "I know it doesn't change much, but I think you're the best person imaginable to run this school. These kids are lucky to have you at the helm, and the board is too, even if they don't realize it."

"I'm not fishing for compliments," Veronica said, although her expression softened. "I need to stop that article from running tomorrow."

"Well, that's something I can help with. I'll call my contact at The Times-Picayune to see if we can stall," Gray said, feeling extremely grateful for that lunch she'd grabbed with her new reporter friends. "We'll figure out a game plan, and if we're lucky, we'll still have enough time to review the new design for the recruitment webpage today."

Veronica settled back into her chair, a bit of tension leaving her shoulders. "I knew there was a reason we hired you."

Gray was pleased to have a problem she could solve, unlike the baffling mystery of the missing Virgos. She threw herself into the middle of the Times-Picayune article drama with the kind of determination only an Aries can muster. The charm that had been so elusive on some of her dates came easily to Gray as she sweet-talked a reporter she'd recently befriended, promising an exclusive scoop on the high school's newly selected commencement speaker, an alum who'd gone on to become a famous author. Gray even hinted that she might be able to get the journalist an interview with the author, beloved for her New Orleans–set historical fantasy series starring a mystery-solving psychic.

It wasn't long before Gray was able to deliver good news to Veronica. While the powerfully connected board member had ensured the paper wouldn't fully drop the protest story, Gray's contact had convinced the journalist writing the article to hold it for a few days to get a more balanced perspective. Gray worked with Veronica to prepare carefully crafted comments, and by the time the piece was on newsstands on Thursday morning, it cast a much more favorable light on the new principal than the earlier draft. When Gray passed along the online article, she received an email response that was positively effusive by Veronica's standards: "Nice work. -VT."

And that evening, with River strapped into his stroller, Gray returned to the neighborhood playground, hoping that she might spot Veronica and Karys where she'd run into them the week before.

"See that water over there? That's Bayou St. John," Gray said, pointing across the parking lot. "Can you say ‘bayou'?"

"By-oooo," River singsonged back.

"Very good! It's a body of water, but it's not as deep as a lake or a river."

River looked skeptically at Gray. "I River."

"Right, yes," Gray said quickly, having stumbled into this trap before. "But not you River. Watery rivers. Remember how we saw the Mississippi River when we went to the zoo?"

They were still debating the difference between toddler River and waterway rivers when they came within view of the oversized tic-tac-toe toy on the playground. Veronica was on the same bench they'd shared the previous Thursday, now waving Gray over. She was again in much more casual clothes than her office attire, a long plaid tunic over leggings. Gray found she enjoyed seeing Veronica without her principal suit of armor.

"Hey, stranger," Gray said, locking the wheels on River's stroller and unbuckling him.

"I hoped I'd run into you," Veronica said, something Gray was surprised to hear from her previously cold colleague. "Thank you again for intervening on that article. I can't believe how much it changed. I practically looked like the good guy, if you read between the lines."

"Hi, River!" said Karys, running over from a nearby set of monkey bars. She'd left her firefighter hat and tutu at home, and was today sporting a unicorn sweatshirt and rainbow-printed leggings. "Look, I wore my unicorn outfit hoping I'd see you!"

River squealed with excitement, then grabbed Karys in a big hug. "We play unicorns on slide?" He neighed and galloped in a circle, holding a finger out from his forehead.

Karys looked to her mom and Gray. "Can we go play on the slide, please?"

"Sure!" Gray said. "Just don't do anything stupid."

Karys paused, her face growing serious. "We don't use that word. It's not very nice. You should find a better word."

Veronica stepped in as Gray stared at Karys, abashed. "You're right, Karys. Ms. Gray meant don't do anything unsafe."

"Okay. Bye, Ma!" Karys waved and the two children skipped toward the play set.

"?‘Find a better word'?" Gray asked once Karys was out of hearing range.

"She's not wrong," Veronica said, smirking. "?‘Stupid' isn't very nice. And there's almost always a better word for what you're trying to say."

"Fair point," Gray conceded. "Anyway, I'm glad you were pleased with the final article. It took a bit of convincing, but I think they recognized that it was a better piece in the end."

Veronica pushed her sunglasses on top of her head and Gray noticed a concerned wrinkle between her eyebrows. "Yes, much better in the end. But the protest is still on, last I heard. And we've still got the issue of the board blocking us from buying all the new books I requested for the library. Not to mention trying to get them to fork over the money for new student scholarships."

Gray examined Veronica for a moment. "Geez, you're terrible at kicking back and celebrating a win, huh?"

Veronica laughed. "You know, I've heard that more than once."

"Yeah, me too," Gray admitted. "My friend Cherry tells me it's an Aries thing."

Veronica raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Yes! Fire sign, reporting for duty!" Gray said. "What do you want me to try next? Learn to play the violin so I can busk for scholarship funds? Drop some hot gossip on the worst board members to my reporter friend? Go to their church disguised as a straight girl to spy on how they're plotting to foil your plans next?"

"You can't do that."

"No words inspire an Aries more," Gray said, lifting her chin defiantly. "I'll have you know I took three weeks of violin lessons in middle school."

"Not the violin," Veronica said, smirking at Gray's backward baseball hat. "The last one."

"The undercover church mission?" Gray made an expression as if mortally offended, then straightened her posture, crossed her legs, pushed out her breasts, and said, "Whyever would you think that, sweetheart?" in a high-pitched Southern accent. "I do declare I love Jesus even more than sweet tea." For good measure, she turned her baseball cap around so it faced front.

"What?" Gray said, slumping back into her natural position as Veronica laughed. "With the right dress and wig, I could totally pull it off."

"Like hell you could."

Gray gasped playfully. "Language! I'm calling Karys over here and telling on you. Karys!"

"Stop! You're exhausting," Veronica said, downright giggling as she grabbed Gray's waving hand from the air before Karys noticed.

Gray and Veronica dropped the topic of business, and by the time the sun had dipped below the horizon, they were in a deep debate about whether octopuses or dolphins were smarter. Just as they'd agreed to disagree, Karys and River returned, looking slightly dirtier and more tired than when they'd arrived. "We're hungry, Ma," Karys said.

Veronica looked at the time on her phone and raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Wow! You're right, K. It's dinnertime." She turned to Gray while grabbing her tote bag from beside the bench. "Do you have dinner plans? We've got plenty of beef stew to share."

Gray tried to mask her surprise at the friendly offer. "Yeah, that sounds great. Thank you. Just…" Gray whipped out her phone and texted Cherry to let her know they may be home a little late. "Sure, let's do it."

Veronica gave Gray her address, and fifteen minutes later, she was in a family-friendly neighborhood in the middle of the city named after Bayou St. John, entering the home of the Principal Taylor, strict disciplinarian and incredibly intimidating school administrator. But Gray wouldn't have known about Veronica's professional persona based on her home. It was a surprisingly cozy raised cottage, full of warm colors, soft fabrics, and tons and tons of bookshelves, upon which Gray would have expected to find dry academic texts that were instead stacked with children's books, historical fiction, memoirs, and a fair amount of romance novels. The walls were decorated with Karys's many works of art, and toys were collected in baskets in each room. It was a home that instantly put Gray at ease and certainly made her see Veronica in a different light. Karys grabbed Gray's and River's hands as soon as they walked in the door and led them around the house, pointing out her favorite watercolor paintings and creations made of feathers, glitter, and glue.

When Karys's tour concluded, she took charge of setting the table, instructing Gray to follow with silverware. River followed them in circles around the table, too small to help but enjoying the process nonetheless. Gray couldn't help but think of her own family dinnertimes at Karys's age, bossing her little brother around as they set out the napkins and placemats.

Picturing her parents' dining room table hit Gray with an unexpected pang. Shouldn't all those lovely family meals at Cherry and Robbie's house have pushed out the memories of her mother pestering her about her unladylike manners and failed Bible tests over meatloaf? Even so, sometimes Gray still missed her mom's cooking. Or maybe she missed reliving her softball-game-winning runs with her dad, or flicking peas back and forth with her brother when their parents weren't looking. Maybe it was more about the sense of belonging, of being a crucial part of the family table rather than a visitor. In another universe, if things had been different, maybe she'd still be sitting at the Young family table for their Thursday pot roast. But in this universe, she felt pretty lucky to be a guest in Veronica Taylor's dining room.

By the time Karys had helped Gray find her old high seat for River, Veronica was plating their meal. It was a leftover beef stew reheated on the stove, served with a side of rice and sliced avocado. Veronica had invited Gray and River to dinner in order to further discuss their work, but the meal was instead spent watching Karys teach River the Spanish words for their meal and for all the furniture in the room. As Gray and Veronica laughed, cheered, and supported Karys's lesson, Gray's memories of the Young family table faded, and she realized she hadn't enjoyed herself this much in a long time.

Once the meal was finished, Karys and River played with a set of painted wooden animals while Gray and Veronica cleaned up. "Thanks again for inviting us," Gray said, dropping a stack of bowls into the sink. "That stew was delicious. And who knew River would love avocado so much?"

"He does look extra cute with his face smeared with green," Veronica said. "Very Wicked Witch of the West."

Gray laughed. "Very. Was the stew hard to make?"

"Not really," Veronica said as she wiped off the counters. "You pretty much just throw everything in a pot. I could send you the recipe."

"Oh, that's kind of you," Gray said. "But I'm an abysmal cook. It has to be really simple for me to have a chance of it coming out edible."

"I'm sure you're not that bad."

"Ask River. I can't even get his macaroni and cheese right, and there are only, like, two instructions on the box."

Veronica laughed, a sound Gray decided she could get used to coming from her overly serious co-worker. "It's like any other skill. It just takes practice." She joined Gray at the sink, where she was rinsing their dishes. "For a simple sancocho like we just had, you just marinate the beef and brown it, then add water and simmer for—"

"You lost me at ‘marinate the beef,'?" Gray said apologetically.

Veronica smiled and gestured at a cutting board and knife on the counter. "Here, hand me those and I'll pass dishes to you to load into the dishwasher." Gray followed the directions as Veronica continued. "So maybe you're not ready for sancocho. Start with something simple, like a basic pasta. Kids love pasta, and you can sneak in all kinds of vegetables. My mom had this chicken pasta she used to make in the microwave. Weird, I know. She didn't really make a lot of pasta before she married my dad, so when he requested it, she kind of made it up as she went along and it somehow worked. I could teach you, if you want."

"Really?" Gray asked.

"Sure," Veronica said, sliding a handful of silverware into the dishwasher. "Karys loves it, so she'll be thrilled. She calls it ‘oh yay, it's penne.' How about this time next week? Meet at the park again? You buy groceries, I'll show you how to make it."

Gray grinned. Tonight had been a completely unexpected delight. She'd felt right at home in Veronica's place, and the idea of coming back, of setting the table and watching Karys show River her toys and chatting with Veronica while cleaning dishes, sounded like heaven. "I'm in. Just tell me what to pick up at the store."

Right as Veronica clicked the dishwasher shut, River toddled into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes with tiny fists. He bumped into Gray's legs and mumbled, "Aunt Gay, I want go home."

Gray scooped him up into her arms. "You're right, buddy, it's getting late."

"What did he call you?" Veronica asked, her voice suddenly chillier.

Gray had almost forgotten that Veronica thought River was her kid. Somehow, the evening felt so relaxed, so normal, that it hadn't even really come up. But suddenly, she felt the telltale itchiness creeping up her neck. "What? Nothing! Oh, ‘angay'? It's this weird way he says ‘okay.' Toddlers, am I right?" Gray babbled.

Unconvinced, Veronica looked at River. "River, where's your mommy?"

River dropped his head onto Gray's shoulder, and for a moment she thought she might get away with the lie. But then he said, "At my house."

"And who's this?" Veronica said, her tone gentle but her eyes burning holes into Gray's forehead.

"Aunt Gay," River replied, enunciating clearly despite his exhaustion.

Veronica made eye contact with Gray for a moment, and whatever door that had opened between them seemed to slam shut. "River's not your kid."

Her face burning, Gray swallowed. "No, he's not. He's my best friend Cherry's son. But I'm his godmother. And roommate, kind of?"

"I invited you into our home," Veronica said, her voice dangerously low. "And you lied to me."

"I didn't really mean to lie," Gray whispered as River cuddled into her chest and his eyes fluttered shut. "I really didn't, I just wanted to—"

"I don't tolerate being lied to." Veronica crossed her arms, and Gray was again flooded with the feeling that she'd been sent to the principal's office. "You should leave."

"I'm so sorry, Veronica, I didn't mean—"

"Now."

Standing her ground, Veronica seemed to tower over Gray, even though Gray was a few inches taller. Gray nodded meekly, then ducked through the kitchen door into the living room to collect their things. Veronica followed her, watching her every move. Gray slipped River's shoes onto his limp feet and grabbed her keys from a table by the front door. Karys watched silently, seeming to have sensed the change in her mother's mood, but waved from her spot on the couch when Veronica wasn't looking her way.

Gray cracked open the door, stepped outside, and turned back once more to Veronica, who was still staring daggers at her. "I really am sorry. I hope we can talk about this another time."

"Good night, Gray," Veronica said, her voice firmer than concrete.

Before Gray could say good night back, Veronica closed the door in her face.