The Wall of Winnipeg and Me

I winced.

As if I hadn’t heard her the first time, she yelled again. “Rodrigo!”

I wasn’t going to apologize. I knew it would just make it worse. I was aware of how things worked with her. At this point, the only thing to do that wouldn’t piss her off more was to man-up to what I’d done and let her ream me.

“You got married and you didn’t tell me!”

I stayed quiet and kept an eye out on the building to make sure Aiden wasn’t appearing.

“It’s because you think I’d tell everyone, isn’t it?”

That was definitely the wrong question to answer. So I kept my mouth shut.

“You don’t love me anymore? Is that it? Am I old news?”

Still, I kept my mouth closed.

“I can’t believe you!” She let out a shriek that seemed to echo. Knowing her, she was more than likely in her car. “I’m going to punch you in the cooch.”

At that, my silence ended. “I’d like to see you try.” She hadn’t grown up with my sisters. I knew how to fight a girl.

At least better than she did.

“No! Don’t talk to me right now,” she insisted. “You didn’t tell me you got married. You’re on probation, and I need to get back to work. I’m on my lunch break. If you want to get back on my good side this year, I’d like some of those chocolate-dipped strawberries.”

That had me snorting. She was out of her damn mind.

“You owe me.” With that, she hung up as I pulled into the parking lot I was looking for. I let my forehead drop onto the steering wheel. That had gone better and worse than I’d imagined it would, but I was a little relieved it was out in the open, finally.

I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel as I looked around the empty lot. I wavered on getting out when a giant lightning bolt painted a jagged streak across the rainy lavender-gray sky. Minutes passed and still he didn’t come out of the Three Hundreds’ building.

Damn it. Before I could talk myself out of it, I jumped out of the car, cursing at myself for not carrying an umbrella for about the billionth time and for not having waterproof shoes, and ran through the parking lot, straight through the double doors. As I stomped my feet on the mat, I looked around the lobby for the big guy. A woman behind the front desk raised her eyebrows at me curiously. “Can I help you with something?” she asked.

“Have you seen Aiden?”

“Aiden?”

Were there really that many Aidens? “Graves.”

“Can I ask what you need him for?”

I bit the inside of my cheek and smiled at the woman who didn’t know me and, therefore, didn’t have an idea that I knew Aiden. “I’m here to pick him up.”

It was obvious she didn’t know what to make of me. I didn’t exactly look like pro-football player girlfriend material in that moment, much less anything else. I’d opted not to put on any makeup since I hadn’t planned on leaving the house. Or real pants. Or even a shirt with the sleeves intact. I had cut-off shorts and a baggy T-shirt with sleeves that I’d taken scissors to. Plus the rain outside hadn’t done my hair any justice. It looked like a cloud of teal.

Then there was the whole we-don’t-look-anything-alike thing going on, so there was no way we could pass as siblings. Just as I opened my mouth, the doors that connected the front area with the rest of the training facility swung open. The man I was looking for came out with his bag over his shoulder, imposing, massive, and sweaty. Definitely surly too, which really only meant he looked the way he always did.

I couldn’t help but crack a little smile at his grumpiness. “Ready?”

He did his form of a nod, a tip of his chin.

I could feel the receptionist’s eyes on us as he approached, but I was too busy taking in Grumpy Pants to bother looking at anyone else. Those brown eyes shifted to me for a second, and that time, I smirked uncontrollably.

He glared down at me. “What are you smiling at?”

I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head, trying to give him an innocent look. “Oh, nothing, sunshine.”

He mouthed ‘sunshine’ as his gaze strayed to the ceiling.

We ran out of the building side by side toward my car. Throwing the doors open, I pretty much jumped inside and shivered, turning the car and the heater on. Aiden slid in a lot more gracefully than I had, wet but not nearly as soaked.

He eyed me as he buckled in, and I slanted him a look. “What?”

With a shake of his head, he unzipped his duffel, which was sitting on his lap, and pulled out that infamous off-black hoodie he always wore. Then he held it out.

All I could do was stare at it for a second. His beloved, no-name brand, extra-extra-large hoodie. He was offering it to me.

When I first started working for Aiden, I remembered him specifically giving me instructions on how he wanted it washed and dried. On gentle and hung to dry. He loved that thing. He could own a thousand just like it, but he didn’t. He had one black hoodie that he wore all the time and a blue one he occasionally donned.

“For me?” I asked like an idiot.

He shook it, rolling his eyes. “Yes for you. Put it on before you get sick. I would rather not have to take care of you if you get pneumonia.”

Yeah, I was going to ignore his put-out tone and focus on the ‘rather not’ as I took it from him and slipped it on without another word. His hoodie was like holding a gold medal in my hands. Like being given something cherished, a family relic. Aiden’s precious.