Chapter Thirty

Loncey

"Thank fuck," I say, reading the message.

Maeve's head swings to me, making her blonde waves swirl out around her. "What?"

"Jessica is back at home. Mom managed to convince them she didn't need to stay overnight."

"Oh, that's good news," Maeve says. "So good, I think we should ditch this place and go get another Elvis burger."

"No way. We've been in this line for over ten minutes. We're invested now."

"This is sunken cost fallacy if ever I've seen it," Maeve tsks.

"Listen, I know you weren't brave enough to try it last night and played it safe with a salmon rice bowl, but this salad is worth trying. Even when my sister has like zero appetite on like her worst days, she devours this chicken and kale salad, with mango salsa. That's how she likes to shake it up. That should convince you that it's worth it."

Maeve chews on the corner of her lip. "Let's get her one. That salad, I mean. Let's order takeaway and bring her one."

"You want to meet my sister? And my mom?" I feel my eyes widen.

"I want to make sure your sister eats a meal today. Sounds like she needs her strength."

Yes, I want that too. I really fucking want that.

"Are you sure?"

"I swear to God, Loncey, if you ask me one more time if I'm tired or if I want to stop hanging out with you, I will shove your face in this chicken kale salad you love so much. One with mango salsa and all!"

I hold my hands up. "Message received. I get it. You don't mind hanging out with me."

Maeve smiles at that and it's one of those secret smiles she doesn't give the camera or a room full of people she's giving a keynote to. It's a smaller smile and yet it has more in it. More warmth. More affection. More connection. More of the kind of tenderness that I'm starting to think she only shares with those she cares about.

*****

An hour later and we're pulling into the driveway of my mom's house and my car smells like the chicken salad I love so much. Maeve's just about stopped grumbling about how she's going to be eating healthy food for dinner for the second time in as many days – although this time she ordered twisty fries and garlic bread sides – and she's quick to undo her seatbelt, put the mask I gave her on her face, and get out of the car after we come to a stop, taking our bags of food with her.

Looks like she actually wants to do this.

I'm a little slower unclicking my seatbelt and exiting the vehicle and it's because I'm surprised by her eagerness. And I'm definitely reading more into it than I probably should.

Maeve is just being kind and polite. Maeve is a good person. Like me, Maeve had had enough of the conference and likely the hotel. She just wants a change of scenery. She probably just wants to spend time with people other than me.

"You okay?" she asks as I finally get out of the car.

"Yeah," I say and force a smile on my face and all those idiotic thoughts out of my head. I can't remember the last time I got in my head about someone. It certainly hasn't happened with any of the many people I've had sex with over the last few years.

My mouth falls open as that thought lands.

It's because I've not had sex with Maeve.

Sex is completely off the table with Maeve.

And that, for some reason I can't quite reach, makes everything very, very different.

"You sure?" she asks as she comes to stand opposite me. I'm frozen in place, suddenly uncertain about how to talk to her, how to be with her, how I feel about her.

"Yeah, sorry. Just hungry, I guess." I put on my own mask, relieved it will hide half of my face, half of my expressions.

"Same here. I'm so hungry I could eat a dirty nappy through a letter box," she says and brings her hand to her stomach. "A nappy is a diaper, by the way."

I'm chuckling and feeling all my unease wash away. "Thanks for clarifying, because that was really necessary for the visual."

I gesture toward the front door and then open it with my keys.

"Momma?" I call out, but not too loud in case Jessica is sleeping.

"In here," she responds from the living room.

"We come bearing gifts," I say as I walk in.

"But don't get too excited," Maeve says from behind me. "It's mostly healthy shite. Food, I mean. It's mostly healthy food."

Maeve almost looks sheepish after correcting herself when I turn back to look at her, but then my eyes are quickly pulled to where Jessica is lying on the sectional, a couple of blankets over her and her arm sticking out, an IV stuck to the back of her hand. I flinch. She hates having them there. I choose not to think about why it had to be there, about how it was possibly difficult to get a vein in the inside of her elbow.

"Hey Jess," I say softly and move to sit beside her.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" she croaks.

"Which is to say," my mom steps toward Maeve with her hand outstretched, "we curse in this family so no need to censor yourself."

Maeve takes my mom's hand and shakes it. "Happy to hear that. My family's the same, we're a bunch of fecking potty-mouthed pirates."

My mom laughs and I know then that Maeve has already charmed her. I know it too when I hear Jessica start to cough after her own attempt at a chuckle. I grab the spit bag that was by her side and hold it up.

We wait for Jessica to clear as much fluid as she can and I am so intent watching her, ensuring it's under control, that I forget Maeve is also witnessing this. Just as Jessica settles back in the cushions behind her, I turn to look at Maeve as my mother takes the bag out of my hand to dispose of it.

I study Maeve, looking for discomfort or, worse, disgust, but her face is blank apart from the pull of concern slightly creasing her brow.

She comes closer.

"Well, that fucking sucks for you," she says. "I'm Maeve, by the way. It's nice to meet you, Jessica."

Jessica looks up at Maeve. "You're like… even prettier than your photos and videos. Even with a mask on. That's really fucking annoying."

"And you're a lot funnier than your sibling here." Maeve nudges me. "That's also really fucking annoying, for them."

Jessica manages to suppress the laughter that threatens again and she looks at Maeve's bag.

"Am I smelling Dino's chicken kale salad?"

Maeve holds up the bag in her hand. "Yes, you are. But don't worry, I got garlic bread and twisty fries on the side so it won't be all rabbit food."

"This is one time Loncey is actually right. The salad is almost better than fries."

Maeve puts the bag down on the couch close to Jessica's feet. "I think I should see myself out. I'm clearly not welcome here in this house of health freaks."

She starts walking toward the door but then stops and turns, her hair floating around her. "Wait, I just realised that means more twisty fries and garlic bread for me. Let's bloody eat!"

"I'm grabbing forks and napkins!" Mom calls out from the kitchen.

"We can eat on the couch?" Maeve looks at me then Jessica.

"Well, it's not like I can get up and go to the kitchen right now," Jessica teases Maeve with a roll of her eyes and I hold my breath.

"You're so lazy," Maeve teases back and I give Jessica a warning look because I know that kind of acerbic comment will have her bursting with laughter.

"I like you," Jessica says with a smile. "But please don't make me laugh so much. I don't want to die today."

"Got it." Maeve gives my sister a little salute. "Can I sit next to you?"

"After you wash your hands," I tell Maeve. "You can do it in the kitchen." I nod to indicate which direction she should go in.

Jessica and I both watch Maeve leave and then I turn back to my sister, wanting to know how she really is, but before I can open my mouth…

"Are you… are you collabing with her?" Jessica asks with some hesitation.

"Fuck, no!" I say, a little appalled. "Maeve's a... friend."

That last word is clumsy in my mouth. It doesn't quite fit. It doesn't quite describe what Maeve is to me. But I don't have anything else, certainly not as my sister levels a scrutinizing look on me.

"I don't think she's your friend."

"Well, she's not my girlfriend. And we're not… sleeping together."

"But you want to, right? I mean, look at her!" Jessica's voice lowers.

"I really don't…" I say but again I can't taste truth in my mouth. Not that what I said is a lie. I have the desire to sleep with Maeve – I'm very sexually attracted to her, that much is true – but I don't want to sleep with her because she doesn't want that. I don't want anything that Maeve doesn't want.

But I can't explain that to my sister.

"I don't want to talk about this with you."

"I know." She shrugs, or at least she tries but I can see how physically exhausted she is in the gray patches under her eyes and the way her chest moves heavy and slow. "You've not once asked me about Taylor. I know it freaks you out, the idea of me, you know, being sexual."

I grimace. I don't even try to hide it.

"Which is ironic considering what you do for a living," Jessica adds, and I'm sure if she had the energy she would cross her arms for effect.

"You're my sister," I say as an explanation. "I've always been very respectful about keeping my… work away from you."

"But Taylor isn't work for me. She's important to me."

"I know, I know. She's your girlfriend," I say and while I'm pleased with how easily I say the words, my pride is interrupted by a jolt of joy as I hear my mother and Maeve's laughter emerge from the kitchen.

"And Maeve's your… something."

"Jesus, she's a friend," I say again but it's no surprise when the word is just as clunky.

"Loncey, you never bring friends home. Even with Miko and Harley, it took you months to introduce us to them."

"They're busy people."

"And Maeve's not? She has like a bajillion followers on Instagram. I'm sure she could easily find something better to do than being here if…" Jessica trails off.

"If?"

"If she wanted to."

My gaze falls to my hands and my mind circles back to the thoughts I had in the car. Thoughts that I still can't quite make sense of.

"I need to go wash up," I say, standing and walking away from Jessica but taking my confused head with me.

*****

An hour later and our bellies are all full. I watch as Maeve pierces the last few kale leaves and a chunk of chicken with her fork and places it in her mouth, her eyes closing to savor the taste.

"I swear if you say you didn't enjoy that salad I will…" I begin, standing up and collecting dishes.

"You'll what?" she asks me with a brightness in her green eyes as they land on me.

"They'll blame it on the Gemini in your birth chart," Jessica answers for me as she hands over her bowl to me.

"Well, before you do, I will admit that I didn't hate that salad," Maeve concedes before shuffling forward to get up and follow me.

"You didn't hate it?" I tease. "I wouldn't be surprised if you're licking the bowl behind me right now."

"Ew, it's a cardboard bowl. I have some standards, you know," Maeve says, and I feel a poke in my back as we get to the kitchen.

Mom is already in there on the phone with a client who called a few minutes ago. Talking in hushed tones, she moves out of the way as I start stacking the dishwasher with the bowls and cutlery Maeve and I are carrying.

"Mom's a doula-midwife," I explain to Maeve.

"Yeah, you said. That's a cool job," Maeve says. "Marty and Jenna will have a doula."

Mom hangs up the phone. "Shit," she says with a soft sigh.

"Problem?"

"I think one of my clients could be miscarrying."

"Fuck," I whisper.

"Oh no," Maeve says, and I feel her move closer to me, close enough that our arms touch.

"Do you need to go?" I ask Mom.

She glances toward the living room, toward Jessica. "I'd like to but I can call Marie. I told you I'd take care of Jess."

I shake my head. "But now I'm here."

Mom stares out of the window into the darkness that has now fallen. "She's only eleven weeks but a loss is a loss. She's had it happen before too so that's why she called me. She doesn't want to go to the hospital if she can avoid it."

"Go, Momma," I say quietly but firmly. "I can look after Jess."

"You're finished at your conference?" She raises her eyebrows.

"Yes, definitely. One day was more than enough."

"I can concur," Maeve says with a nod, the side of her arm still touching mine. "Way too much latex in one room."

I huff out a soft laugh.

"Are you sure?" Mom levels one of her most serious looks at me.

"Absolutely," I say.

"And I can help," Maeve chimes in. "If it's needed."

"I think Taylor's also coming over," Mom says as she moves to gather her bags which are always packed and ready on one side of the room.

"Okay," I say.

"And she'll probably want to stay over," Mom says.

"Okay," I say, a little slower this time. I wait to feel the sharp slice of panic, a little churn of discomfort, but neither sensation comes. If anything, I'm relieved Taylor is coming over and will sleep next to Jessica tonight.

"And I can make my own way back to the hotel," Maeve says. "You have Ubers in Las Vegas, right?"

"You want to go? Now?"

"No, not now," she says in a voice I'm not used to from her. It's too quiet.

"Thank you, Lawrence." Mom comes up and kisses my cheek before turning away again. But then she stops, turns back around and raises the hand holding her keys up to my head.

"You oiled your locs," she comments. "They look good."

And then she's gone.

I turn to Maeve. "Feeling smug about that?"

She's trying to quash her smile by pulling her lips into her mouth but it's useless. "Only mahoosively so," she tells me and bumps her arm into mine.