Chapter Forty-one
Rose drove Aunt Paola’s Mercedes to Hannah’s house. If Paola missed it, let her report it stolen. She flipped on the wipers as drops began to spatter the windshield. Now it can storm, she thought. Let it pour.
Bypassing the white rental sedan out front, Rose pulled into the driveway and stopped short of the motorcycle. She headed for the back porch, stepping lightly toward the screen door. Inside the kitchen, the light was on and two women sat at the table.
“When is Ri coming down?” Iris asked. Impatient as always.
“She’s grieving,” Hannah replied. “Let’s take this time to review the last steps.”
“Right,” Iris said, tapping her fingers on the tabletop. “Stage the articles. The first set are ready—my editor can pull the trigger anytime.”
Rose winced at the wording. She shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but so what?
“The last ones are here. They are key. The first provide context, but these—”
“Tell us why he got himself killed? Great.” Iris paused. “Do we ever get the truth about Ri?”
Rose opened the screen door to Hannah’s kitchen without knocking. She raised an eyebrow at Iris. “You cover mob killings now? Not your usual beat.”
Iris opened her mouth in surprise.
Before she could form a comeback, Rose asked Hannah, “Where is she?”
“Upstairs. Are you all right?”
“Dandy. Nobody died today. Frank got arrested. Gino got arrested. Nonna gave the FBI a wire—she’s been wearing it for months, apparently. And Ri disappeared again.” In the back of an FBI van. But saying that in front of Iris? No.
A flash of lightning filled the kitchen, with a boom so close behind it the windows rattled. Rose jumped.
“Water? Tea?”
“No. I need to see her.”
Hannah inclined her head in agreement. “Very well.”
Iris stood, looking determined.
“Not you,” Hannah said.
Rose took the stairs two at a time, as the skies opened up.
Rose found Maji on the balcony of Ava’s office, stripped down to her underwear and tank top, drenched. Her face to the sky, arms uplifted, Maji didn’t see Rose approach, didn’t seem to hear her step out onto the balcony to wrap around her from behind. But she dropped her arms and hugged Rose to her chilled skin. Rose rested her chin on Maji’s shoulder, her mouth by Maji’s ear. “You left again.”
“It’s what I do,” Maji mumbled, all the muscles of her back tensing against Rose’s front.
Rose wanted to shake and to hold her, both. Instead, she stepped backward, pulling Maji with her into the room. Soaked now herself, she shivered. Maji twisted in her arms, slid her hands up Rose’s front, and cupped the back of her head. And then they were kissing, melted together and pulling dripping clothing off.
As Rose pulled her toward the couch, Maji pulled back, looked at her with aching eyes. “I’m…” She paused. “I should have…” Maji seemed frozen, her face twisted in a knot.
Rose pulled her close again, kissed her eyelids gently. “Hush. Just hush.” She kissed her face, forehead to chin to ears, until Maji finally sought out her lips.
Hannah and Iris both heard thumps from the room above. Iris looked up, alarmed. “Are they okay?”
Hannah tilted her head. “Time will tell.” She stepped into the foyer and returned seconds later with a large manila envelope. “The rest of your story. All that Angelo had time to prepare.”
“Well, that’s it, then,” Iris said. “All but good-bye.” She looked up hopefully.
“It may be a while before they come down,” Hannah said. “Would you like some lunch?”
From above came a sound like keening. Iris flushed. “No,” she said, standing. “I need a smoke.”
* * *
Maji brushed the hair from Rose’s face, luxuriating in the feel of her head against her shoulder. The couch cradled them and kept them close at the same time, Rose’s warm length draped over Maji’s aching body. The throb in her reinjured ankle kept time with her heart, slowing as it thumped against Rose’s ear. Maji tilted her head down to kiss Rose’s damp scalp, and Rose kissed her chest in reply. Maji wished they could lie like that forever, no language but touch between them.
“Thank you for helping Frank,” Rose said.
Maji thought of Frank starting his new life, alone. “Thank you for not killing Gino.”
Rose vibrated with what Maji hoped was laughter and pulled herself tighter against Maji’s hips and chest. She slid one leg over and around Maji’s stretched-out ones. Pinned. And not about to fight it.
“Mom and I are driving Nonna back to California in her car, that horrible old land yacht. Gerald’s staying to help Jackie pack up a few things and deal with the insurance people. I’m not sure which of us pulled the short straw.”
Maji smiled but didn’t speak. She pulled the throw blanket down from the back of the couch. If they stayed on the couch any longer, they’d need to open it into its bed form. But she should be saying good-bye instead.
“You could come with us,” Rose ventured. “If you have any vacation left.” She trailed her hand from Maji’s scalp down to her jawline.
Maji caught it and kissed the fingers, breathed them in, closing her eyes. “I can’t.”
“Okay,” Rose said. “Then come out when you get a few days off.”
Maji struggled for words she couldn’t bring herself to say. “I can’t, Rose.”
“Can’t what?” Rose said, trying to scooch up to look at Maji without disentangling. It didn’t work, so she leaned back instead. Maji supported her with one arm, which began to shake. “Maji?” Rose asked, looking into her eyes.
Maji couldn’t look into those beautiful eyes and hurt her one more minute. “I can’t see you anymore.”
“Dammit!” Rose gasped and twisted to catch herself as gravity took over. Maji sat up and offered her two hands. Rose took them and turned herself around, until she was perched on the edge of the couch, facing Maji. “Look. I know you do work you can’t talk about. But you must have choices.”
“Some.”
Rose pulled the little blanket around her shoulders. “What are you afraid of, Maji? What is it you think you’re protecting me from?”
“Me.” Maji couldn’t take those eyes anymore. She stared at Rose’s shoulder. “I will leave you, and never tell you when I’ll be back.”
“But you’ll come back.”
Maji nodded. “I’d just show up again, and not tell you where I’ve been, or what I’ve done. You can’t live like that. I can’t plan vacations—I can’t even own a pet. We’d make plans with your family or your friends, and you’d have to lie to them when I didn’t show up. I’m not going to put you through that.”
Rose turned away, then stood. “Whoa—back up the U-Haul, soldier. One, I have not named our children yet. And two, don’t you think I get to decide how I can live?”
Maji hung her head. When she lifted it, the fight in Rose’s eyes gave her strength. “Bubbles didn’t tell me she’s getting pregnant. Because she knows I won’t be there when she needs me.”
Rose opened her mouth to respond, reaching a hand out.
Maji turned her face toward the window, looking past her. “Don’t. You don’t get it. Ava didn’t tell me she was dying, because she knew I couldn’t come home to say good-bye. Hell, I almost didn’t make it back for Angelo’s funeral.”
Rose put her fingers under Maji’s chin and turned her face gently toward her. “I understand,” she said.
The grief Maji saw reflected in her eyes made her want to punch something. “Understanding and living with it are different. Maybe you could do it. But I don’t think I could live with watching you get hurt, over and over. And blaming myself for that.”