Chapter 17

“You should’ve gonewith a stony-puke color. Rookie mistake.”

Gabe straightened the shoulders of her T-shirt. “I look better in black.”

Shay arched her eyebrow. “And why would that matter? I don’t think the triplets will care what color shirt they barf on.”

Gabe ignored the question and wrinkled her nose. “They’d better not, or Solo will be buying me a new one. And they’ll be asleep, won’t they?”

“I’m not the encyclopedia of babies; how would I know what their sleeping habits are?”

“Because you’ve got nine hundred younger siblings, and you raised most of them.” Gabe ran back upstairs to her room and opened her T-shirt drawer. She ignored Shay’s advice and selected a dark gray marl instead. She did choose a slightly looser fit than the one she had on; they weren’t going on a date, after all.

Shay stood at the base of the stairs with her arms crossed. “I don’t have nine hundred siblings, asshole.”

Gabe sighed, recognizing she’d overstepped. “Sorry, Shay, that was an asshole thing to say; I’m just nervous.”

“Thanks. I should be used to it by now.” Shay smiled. “You really think desensitization therapy is going to work on a person?”

Gabe took her denim jacket from the coat hook and put it on. “I don’t have any other choice. And I don’t see why it wouldn’t. I’ve never been interested in a woman for much longer than a week.”

“You’re already passed that milestone. How’s that working out for you?”

Gabe shrugged. “I haven’t slept with her,” she said, knowing it didn’t answer the question.

“Maybe you should just sleep together and get her out of your system. Maybe a one-night stand is exactly what Lori needs to move on from the ex. You’d be doing her a favor as well as curing your own fascination.”

Gabe looked at her phone and rolled her eyes. It was still another fifteen minutes before Lori was due to pick her up. She dropped down to sit on the stairs, figuring she may as well get comfortable for another fifteen minutes of interrogation. “I’m not fascinated.”

“What would you call it?”

“Interest,” Gabe said. “I think she’s an interesting woman. And you told me I should let more people in, so that’s what I’m trying to do.”

“I did, and I stand by that, but maybe you could’ve picked a straight person or a gay guy. Someone interesting you couldn’t or didn’t want to sleep with.”

A horn sounded outside, and Gabe jumped up. She scooted past Shay and opened the door to see Lori waving from inside her Chevy Bolt. “She’s early.” Gabe took a set of house keys from the bowl on the sideboard and glanced back at Shay. “See you later.”

“When we’ll pick up this conversation,” Shay said.

“Can’t wait.” Gabe closed the door and jogged down the path to Lori. She tossed her spare shirt into the back, then folded herself into the passenger seat, her knees practically hitting her chest.

Lori looked like she was suppressing laughter. “Maybe we should take your truck?”

“Why? Because your car is one step up from a kid’s toy?”

Lori shoved Gabe’s shoulder. “It is not.”

Gabe waved her on. “It’s fine. We don’t have far to go.” And Gabe didn’t want to go back into the house to face more questions from Shay. The longer she could delay that conversation, the happier she’d be.

There seemed to be no residual awkwardness from Monday night during the short drive to Solo’s house. They’d exchanged a couple of messages on Tuesday, mostly about the repairs to the Oakley, and a part of Gabe had wanted to address the almost-kiss. But she decided to put it down to the combination of wine and vulnerability rather than an active attraction on Lori’s side. She had to remind herself that she was the one who didn’t want to act on any attraction.

“So we’ll definitely have the truck finished for you by noon on Thursday,” Gabe said. “Do you want us to drop it off?”

“Oh, no, I can’t ask you to do that. Fran will pick it up.” Lori pulled to a stop at the lights alongside Millennium Park. “What’s your take on the Bean?”

“Huh?” Gabe followed the direction of Lori’s pointed finger to a sculpture.

“The Bean,” she said again. “Do you like it?”

The light changed to green, and Gabe studied the mirrored lump as Lori cruised past it. “I like the reflections of the skyline, I guess. Are you looking for a critique? Because I’m no art buff.”

“You don’t have to be an art expert to know whether or not something artistic appeals to you.”

Gabe shrugged. “Then no, I don’t like it. I don’t see the point of it.”

“Does art have to have a point?” Lori asked. “Isn’t the point of all art simply to exist?”

Gabe frowned. “Like I said, I’m not an art person. I didn’t realize you were.” She called up images of Lori’s kitchen and dining room in her mind and couldn’t remember seeing anything particularly arty on the walls or surfaces. But then Gabe wouldn’t know art if it smacked her in the face with a picture frame.

“I’m not,” Lori said brightly. “But I like sculptures.”

“Thank God. I thought you were working up to asking me to go to an art gallery with you because none of your other friends would.”

Lori gave her a sideways glance. “You don’t have to worry about that, ever. I’ve never been interested in paintings. I like the kind of art that you find in parks and on the streets. Art that’s accessible and for everyone, not just pseudo-intellectuals and snobs.”

“That’s not judgmental at all,” Gabe said.

“Sorry. I’m sure that’s not the case overall. I’ve just met a lot of those kinds of people through the lawyer’s family and friends plus all the funding drives we’ve done.”

“Super-rich people?”

Lori nodded. “Yeah. Their lives are so…unreal. Can you imagine being able to spend $30 million on a boat and not miss it?”

Gabe laughed. “I miss the thirty dollars I spend on burgers at StopAlong. But their generosity keeps you going, doesn’t it?”

“Absolutely, and I’m not being ungrateful or jealous or any other negative emotion. It’s just that sometimes it reminds me of the inequality in the world, and I wonder if I’m doing enough to help.”

“Of course you are. The work you’re doing at the Sanctuary is amazing, and it’s making a difference to the animals you rescue and for the kids who get the chance to interact with them.” Gabe turned toward Lori as much as she could in the cramped space. “Has something happened?”

Lori glanced at Gabe and half-smiled. “Yeah. I was talking to Mom earlier today, and she told me that one of our major donors has pulled their support. Post-COVID slump and all that.”

“Is the Sanctuary going to be okay?” Gabe didn’t need to analyze why her first thought went there rather than concern for the whole family company.

“I don’t know yet. Getting the clinic set up and running will help. Our accountant has to work on new projections, and Mom and Dad will have to go on the hunt for a new donor. It’s a mess we don’t need.”

Gabe picked at the seam of her jacket, knowing she had nothing to say that would improve the situation. “I’m sorry. You should’ve let me know and canceled.”

Lori huffed. “And subject the triplets to just you?” She smiled and shook her head. “Nope. And I need the distraction. There’s very little I can do from here. Mom’s visiting next week for my birthday, so she should know more by then.” She put her hand on Gabe’s knee briefly. “And you’re helping with the rust bucket. I googled auction sales after I’d talked to Mom; hopefully, ours will be nearer the $200k mark.”

Gabe’s mood lifted. They had to make the Brewster ultra-desirable to bring in the top car collectors from all over the world. At least she had the ability to do that for Lori. “Have you started putting together the information booklet yet?”

“Bruce is handling that, but yes, I think it’s in motion. Why?”

“The first owner, the artist—I can’t remember her name, but that should be front and center. People go wild for the possessions of dead celebrities.” Gabe shifted in her seat and smacked her head on the roof.

“I hope you haven’t left a mark,” Lori said and chuckled.

“Your concern for me is overwhelming, thank you.” Gabe rubbed the top of her head for effect.

“I feel like I’d only need to be concerned if a whole building fell on you. Anything less, and you’d just shrug it off. Am I wrong?”

Gabe grinned. She liked being thought of as indestructible. “Anyway, I’ll bet there are collectors out there who’d love to own the Brewster just because she used to own it. What was her name again?” she asked.

“Marie Zimmerman.” Lori took the off ramp and turned left onto West Belmont. “That’s a great idea, Gabe. When we get to the house, I’ll send a quick email to Bruce for him to follow up.”

“Woody’s been busy setting up our website and social media presence,” Gabe said. “She’s planning a whole section of the site to be dedicated to our restoration projects because that’s going to be a big part of the business. Once she has it up and running, the Brewster will be all over it. If you could get Bruce to send us anything he finds, Woody can feature it, and we can help build interest.”

“Perfect.” Lori touched Gabe’s knee again. “Thank you for everything you’re doing.” Lori followed the next couple of instructions on her GPS and pulled up outside Solo’s house. “Wow. This is a nice neighborhood. Do they have a boat at the yacht club across the street too?”

“Actually, yeah. Solo’s got a forty-foot sailing boat, but I’m pretty sure they didn’t pay $30 million for it.”

“That’s a shame. They might’ve wanted to support our work.” Lori got out of the car and pulled an overstuffed grocery bag from the back.

Gabe joined Lori on the street and took the bag from her. She opened the gate and gestured for Lori to go in first.

At the top of the stone steps, Janie stood in the doorway. “Please do something with your friend before I do something I can’t defend myself from in court.” She hugged Gabe then stepped aside for them to enter and offered her hand to Lori. “You must be the Sanctuary angel I’ve heard all about.”

“Really?” Lori blushed. “Most people just call me Lori, but I like that title much better.”

“You look stunning, Janie,” Gabe said, taking in Janie’s elegant scarlet dress and heels.

“Thank you. I’m glad someone noticed.” She smoothed the dress at her hips. “I wasn’t sure I’d still fit in this after the triplets.”

“You’re not so much fitting it as rocking it. Solo is a lug-head if she hasn’t fallen to your feet already. Are you sure she’s seen you?”

Janie looked exasperated. “Probably not. She’s far too preoccupied.”

“What’s she doing now? Having trouble with her bow tie?” Gabe asked.

“She’s in the playroom with the babies. See for yourself.” Janie hooked her arm into Lori’s and took the bag of food from Gabe with the other one. “I’ll show Lori to the kitchen.”

Gabe looked at Lori to check she was okay, and Lori waved her away. “Go. Fix your friend. We’ll be fine.”

“Okay.” Gabe headed to the back of the house where she found Solo in a black tux, pacing around their playpens. “You’re looking sharp.”

Solo turned around briefly before focusing back on the babies. “You’re early. Still on Army time?”

“Nope, this is all Lori,” Gabe said. “What’re you doing in here? Your wife is dressed to kill, and you haven’t told her how amazing she looks. Is a divorce really what you want?”

“Huh?” Solo spun around. “Is that what she said? Fuck.” She looked to the door and then back to the babies and then back to the door.

Gabe grabbed Solo’s shoulder. “Hey, I was just kidding. What’s going on?”

“Are you sure you’re going to be all right?” Solo’s eyes darted from Gabe to the triplets. “Should we just stay in and order takeout?”

“Lori’s here to help me, and she’s already in the kitchen getting ready to cook. So, yes, we’re going to be fine, and you need to take your beautiful wife to the theater. What are you going to watch?”

“Medea: Priestess, Princess, Witch. You know what that’s about? A mother who kills her kids.”

“Well, maybe she doesn’t in this version, and I promise you I won’t either. Your girls are going to be fine.” Gabe gave Solo a firm shake. “Come on, buddy. What’s the problem? You’ve been leaving the babies every day for a few hours. This is no different.”

“This will be the first time I haven’t put them to bed.” Solo stuffed her hands in her pockets. “I like that I’m the last thing they see before they go to sleep.”

“What about when you went out with me? You were out all night.”

“Yeah, but I’d put them to bed and read their favorite stories before I came out.”

“Is this why you’ve been in a hurry to leave the shop every day?” Gabe asked as Solo’s recent behavior and this new information formed the full picture. She’d assumed Solo was in a hurry to get home to her gorgeous wife, which she could understand. She hadn’t even considered the possibility that Solo had been missing her kids.

Solo shrugged and didn’t meet Gabe’s eyes. “I know, I’m a sap. Sorry.”

Gabe shook her head. “Sorry for what? Loving your kids? I’m pretty sure you shouldn’t apologize for that.” She was powerless not to draw the comparison to her own parents and their lack of love. “I think it’s kind of sweet to see you like this.”

Solo snapped her head up and frowned. “You’re fudging with me.”

Gabe laughed. “Fudging?”

“If a curse is one of their first words, Janie will kill me. Seriously though, since when do you think anything is sweet?”

Gabe held up her hands. “What can I say? What worked for me in the Army doesn’t work out here in the real world. I’m learning to be a different person, I guess. Like you did. You’ve changed so much since coming out of the service that it’s sometimes hard to recognize you.”

Solo finally smiled. “And I suppose your changes are nothing to do with your friend in our kitchen?”

“Lori is part of it, yeah, but so are you and Janie…and the girls,” she said, gesturing to the relatively cute-looking triplets, though they’d probably transform to gremlins the moment their moms left the house. “The business is a big part of it too. It’s everything, not just one thing. You should know that; you’ve been through it and come out great on the other side.” The thought of other Army buddies who hadn’t navigated the change dropped like an engine block in her gut. “Not everyone does.”

Solo nodded and cast her eyes downward again, but this time in respect. It didn’t need to be said out loud. Every veteran felt it. Every soldier who survived their tours and civilian life never forgot the thousands who didn’t.

Gabe grasped Solo’s shoulder again. “Say goodbye to your girls, go to the kitchen and look at your wife, then go out and have a great time. Okay?”

Solo slung her arm around Gabe’s shoulder and pulled her into a bro hug. “Thanks, Gabe.”

She jutted her chin in acknowledgment of Solo’s use of her actual name instead of yet another play on her last name. “I could get used to that.”

Solo tilted her head. “I guess I could too as long as it doesn’t have to go both ways.”

“It doesn’t.” After Solo had kissed each of her kids goodnight, Gabe shoved Solo out the door.

Back in the kitchen, it looked like Janie had just finished going through a long list of dos and don’ts and was showing Lori a video monitor.

“It’s linked to every room, so you just cycle through to the playroom or the babies’ bedroom, and you can keep an eye on them from wherever you are,” Janie said.

“Wife, you look fantastic.” Solo wrapped her arms around Janie’s waist and kissed her briefly.

“You’re all set?” Janie asked.

“We are,” Lori said. “Go and enjoy yourselves.”

“We will if Solo isn’t checking the nanny cam every five seconds.” Janie rolled her eyes. “And we should be back around eleven.”

After they left, Lori grabbed Gabe’s arm. “Take me to the babies!”

Gabe laughed and led Lori to the playroom. “You have to watch out for that one.” Gabe pointed to Tia, who grinned at her like butter wouldn’t melt. “That smile doesn’t fool me, devil child.”

Lori whacked her shoulder. “What are you talking about? She looks like a little angel. They all do.”

Gabe nodded her head slowly. “You’ll change your mind by the end of the night. I promise.”

Lori scooped Tia into her arms. “Let’s put them all in the playpen in the kitchen to keep us company.”

Gabe picked up the purple-clothed one—Chloe, if memory served—and held her at arm’s length to follow Lori back into the kitchen.

After Lori had gently placed Tia into the play area, she turned and gasped. “You don’t have to hold them like one of your bombs, Gabe.” She took Chloe from Gabe’s grasp and placed her down beside the ringleader.

“Are you sure? Because I’ve seen them explode in much the same way a couple of times now.”

Lori chuckled and went back to get the third baby. “They have beautiful names,” she said, putting Luna alongside her sisters. “And the color-coding is genius.” She dropped down onto the sofa and stared at them for a while. “Although you can see tiny differences if you look hard enough.”

“Then it’s good that you have such a great memory,” Gabe said. “If we do this more often, we might end up bathing them, and if their nail polish wears off, I’ll definitely mix them up.”

Tia tossed a soft building brick in Gabe’s direction, almost like she was proving her individuality, and it bounced off the rails and struck Luna in the face. Her eyes went wide as she opened her mouth and let out a blood-curdling scream that lasted about five seconds before she went silent and picked up the brick to play with it.

“Except that one.” Gabe pointed at Tia. “I could pick that little troublemaker out even if they’d had sextuplets.”

“She can probably sense your apathy,” Lori said.

“Hey now, it’s not apathy. It’s self-preservation.”

Lori shifted on the couch to face her. “What do you mean?”

Gabe gestured to the kitchen island. She’d done enough soul-searching for tonight with Solo, and she was hungry because she hadn’t eaten after the gym. “Weren’t you about to rustle up another tasty dish for me to try? My muscles need protein.”

Lori flicked her gaze to Gabe’s arms then rose from the sofa and went to sift through the ingredients she’d assembled on the countertop. “I can cook and talk. Get over here.”

Gabe raised her eyebrows at the instruction but didn’t say anything because the only thing that came to mind was sexual. Solo’s countertop was ice-cool marble, and Gabe thought it wouldn’t take long for them to set it on fire. Dutifully, she followed the order and sat on one of the stools opposite Lori.

“Janie made us a fresh pot of decaf. Would you like one?”

“I’ll get it,” Gabe said and began to move.

“Nope. You stay right there.”

Gabe watched Lori move elegantly around the kitchen as if it were her own. Her movements were graceful and precise, like she was dancing around the space in her own little musical performance.

Lori located honey in the fourth cupboard she’d opened and added the perfect amount. It shouldn’t surprise Gabe that Lori remembered exactly how she took her coffee, but she took it as a sign of her thoughtfulness anyway. She placed the mug in front of Gabe and didn’t let go until Gabe met her eyes.

“Talk to me about self-preservation,” she said and released the handle.

“Or we could talk more about the restoration project. Did you get a chance to send an email to Bruce between all the instructions you were given?” Gabe picked up the long, handwritten list Janie had left them and studied it.

“No, I thought it would be rude if I tapped away on my phone while Janie was talking.” Lori slid her phone from her pocket. “I’ll do it now, and then I can put it out of my mind.”

Janie’s list was extensive. She should’ve probably typed it so she could reprint it for the next suckers they got to babysit their tiny terrors. Gabe glanced over her shoulder at the playpen where the girls looked innocent enough, gurgling and talking away—maybe not so much talking as making sounds that only they could understand. Would she have wanted a sibling? To speak a language that was just theirs, to hate and support each other in equal measure. Would they have stuck by her when her parents threw her out on the street?

“I don’t think we should talk about the rust bucket,” Lori said and drew Gabe’s attention back to her. “That’s work. I don’t want our friendship to revolve around work.” She tilted her head to catch Gabe’s gaze when she looked back down at the piece of paper. “I’m really enjoying getting to know you, Gabe, and I want to learn your thoughts about everything. Is that okay?”

Gabe sighed deeply. “Why?”

“Because that’s how strong relationships are built. I want to understand you and how you navigate the world.” Lori shrugged. “I think that’s fascinating.”

Gabe smiled at the same word that Shay had used as a jab earlier than evening, but Lori’s intention was far kinder. “Okay, but can you not gaze at me like you’re about to drag me into a world-record comfort hug?”

Lori laughed and wielded her chef’s knife. “Fine. I won’t look at you,” she said and began slicing the chicken breast.

“I suppose it goes back to my family,” Gabe said.

“My therapist tells me that’s where most things are rooted, good or bad.”

“That makes sense.” Gabe folded the edge of Janie’s list and ran her finger along the crease. “You’re so put-together because you had a wonderful, loving family.”

Lori tossed the meat into the nearby frying pan. “Mostly, yes. I think it gave me a solid platform to launch myself into adult life. But it isn’t perfect armor; it didn’t stop me from getting hurt by the lawyer.”

“Can I ask why you never use your ex’s name?”

Lori narrowed her eyes then nodded slowly. “That’s a fair question. I can’t expect you to lay yourself open if I won’t, can I?”

“Exactly.” And Gabe would use anything to delay this inspection of her soul.

“Names have power. People choose whether to use your first or last name, or they purposefully get your name wrong to play a psychological game, or they use a nickname that’s been made just for them, like you do with your Army buddies.” Lori rinsed her knife then began to dice fresh ginger. “Using a name is personal, and I no longer want to think of her in that way, close and personal. Referring to her by profession, as the lawyer, distances me from the painful, emotional baggage that’s attached to that relationship.” She looked up, her eyes tearful. “Does that make sense?”

“It makes perfect sense.” Gabe was glad of the five feet of marble countertop between them, because her reaction to Lori’s vulnerability was as predictable as the sunrise, and she wasn’t certain she had the friend hug down yet. And she’d definitely struggle not to react to the feel of Lori’s body pressing against hers.

“Good.” She wafted the knife point in Gabe’s direction. “Back to family,” she said.

Gabe was beginning to see that there were disadvantages to this memory thing; Lori was always able to bring a distracted conversation back from the tangent they’d disappeared along, never allowing Gabe off the hook. “I’ve told you about my family. Even before they completely disowned me, things weren’t good. I wasn’t nurtured, or loved, or even held when I hurt myself.” She looked back down at the piece of paper and continued to fold and crease another edge. “Family doesn’t have any positive meaning for me.”

“What about your chosen family?” Lori asked. “You’ve got four sisters, and now,” she motioned to the playpen, “you’ve got Janie and three little ones. She told me they’re calling you Auntie Gabe.”

“That’s different. We’re adults, and I never agreed to be anyone’s auntie.”

“You really don’t like children?”

“I don’t like the responsibility,” Gabe said, catching Lori’s edge of disappointment. “What do I know about babies, and growing up, and teaching a kid life skills? I know about survival, and pain, and abandonment. They’re not things I want to share with anyone.” She rolled her eyes. “Except you, apparently. Because you don’t want to talk about the dire state of our country’s liberties or the latest episode of True Detective.”

“I’ll happily talk about any of those things between deep getting-to-know-you conversations like these.”

Lori’s bright smile comforted Gabe and dragged her out of her self-pitying hole. “So what do you think of Jodie Foster’s Chief Danvers?”

Lori waved her knife from side to side. “I said between the deep conversations, and we’re not done with this one yet.”

“Are you sure? I think we could be done. We could just move on to the next topic, and we’d be done. Easy.”

“We’re nearly done, I promise,” Lori said. “And then we talk about whatever you want. Okay?”

Gabe grumbled and rolled her shoulders. “Fine. What else?”

“How do you feel when you see Solo with her kids?”

“Oh, come on.” Gabe pushed the paper away. “I thought we were having a conversation, not a therapy session.”

“Humor me. Please,” she said quietly.

Gabe shook her head. Lori could ask her for anything in that way, and she’d happily give it. “I’m happy for them, and I like the way Solo is around them. She’s always been immature and kind of shallow. She’s got depth now, and I like that about her. But I’m not sure how I’m supposed to be a positive part of that.”

“I think you’re short-changing yourself and those babies. It sounds like you think that you can’t be part of a family because yours was so bad.”

“That sounds about right,” Gabe said. “And it sounds logical too.”

“You’ve learned through experience what a bad family is, so you know the mistakes you have to avoid making in any family you allow yourself to be part of. Because you had an awful family, your own will be full of love. You’re a wonderful, kind, and generous person, Gabe. You should open yourself up to sharing that, and you could start right here with those three gorgeous babies.”

“God damn it, woman.” Gabe turned her stool around and looked at the triplets with fresh eyes, trying to see them as the person Lori had just described Gabe to be. She made a lot of sense, of course she did, but that didn’t take away the very real fear of repeating the mistakes her parents made. Though she really wanted to be the person Lori seemed to think she was. The more time she spent with Lori, the more she could feel herself wanting to be that person. She wanted to be open and yes, even emotional. Her childhood and twenty years in the Army had beaten those things down, but they weren’t gone. They weren’t irretrievable.

For Lori, and for this friendship, Gabe would pull those characteristics back from the depths of her psyche and embrace them as strongly as she wanted to embrace Lori. And maybe they would overwhelm and dilute her sexual attraction, making a truly platonic friendship possible.

Yeah, and maybe we’ll finally get a Black, female president elected…