Fix It Up (Torus Intercession 3)

Jamie laughed, and of course it was deep and husky, not high and tinny or snorting like a horse. The longer I stood there with them, watching them flirt, the more I was reminded that Nick’s life ran on a track that I could never be on.

“Tahoe?”

“Sorry?”

“Your lake house?”

“No,” Nick said playfully, and the way Jamie was looking at him, completely smitten, was easy to see and, more importantly, understand. Here was a young, talented, gorgeous man who thought Jamie hung the moon. Of course you would fall for that. Who wouldn’t? “It’s on Lake Como. It’s tiny, but I love it.”

“Oh, I’d love to see it.”

“You have an open invitation,” Nick assured him.

“You know, I was at your concert in Paris in November, and you were sublime,” Jamie gushed, taking hold of Nick’s bicep. “Can I get you a drink? Let’s get you a drink.”

“I don’t actually do alcohol anymore, but maybe you have some sparkling water?”

“Oh no, I don’t drink either,” Jamie said happily. “I can’t—it really messed with my creativity. The highs and lows were no good.”

“Really?”

Jamie nodded. “Oh yes,” he began, leading Nick toward the tent. “But I have these amazing teas that…”

They were too far away for me to hear any more. I could only see the body language, the touching and smiling, the way Jamie was crowding close and, more importantly, that Nick was letting him.

“Oh, I wanted to introduce you to him,” my mother said, joining me, having gotten sidetracked with another friend of hers.

“That’s okay,” I said, kissing her temple before I took her hand in mine. “But I’m glad that we have this time, just us, because I need to talk to you about these rings of yours.”

“Pardon me? What about them?” she asked innocently, smiling too big.

“Mom, I think we’re gonna have to stage an intervention.”

Her laughter, always, was so good to hear and made everyone turn to look. She was enchanting, my mother.

“What is this?” I asked, looking at the newest ring, a huge teardrop-shaped labradorite on the index finger of her left hand, easily three inches long and two inches wide. On her right she wore two, one on her pointer finger, an enormous polished rectangle of black tourmaline, and on her ring finger another beast that had a piece of rose quartz at the center, flanked by two carved turquoise leaves. All of them were set in silver, and none of them could be called delicate in the least. “Where’s the one I got you the last time I was here?”

“I change them out,” she said as she gazed lovingly up at me. “You know I’m a fickle creature.”

“I don’t think so,” I apprised her thoughtfully. “I’ve never been on the receiving end of that.” I finished by touching the heavy gold belcher chain around her neck, where a large Victorian eighteen-karat rose gold locket hung that I had bought her with my first paycheck when I became a policeman. It had cost a lot at the time, and was probably worth quite a bit more now, but her face, when I gave it to her, before the bawling, was priceless.

As she said, she rotated rings, discarded wedding ones, earrings were a disaster, forget about pins, and expensive hair forks or sticks were a waste of money. She wore other necklaces with my locket, like the strand of olive pearls she wore at the moment, but she never, ever took off the only piece of jewelry she’d been wearing for the past fourteen years. She was supposed to press pictures inside, but if she didn’t, she could wear it in the shower, and that was more important. There was no glass, just my stupid engraving, because I wasn’t good with words. It said, “I love you, Mom. Love, Loc.” Short and to the point. She had cried until her eyes got all puffy.

“You’re a sap,” I told her.

“My baby,” she said, sighing long.

I was very lucky, and told her so, and then announced that I was hungry.

“Yeah, me too,” she grumbled, yelling over to Jamie to see if we could start eating.

“Oh my goodness, I’m sorry, my friends,” he said to everyone. “Please, grab food. I seem to be blinded by the beauty and brilliance of a new friend.”

I might have thrown up a little in my mouth.

My mother made a soft retching noise because she was always on my side, and we went to get our plates.

I checked on Nick. He was meeting all Jamie’s friends, and Jamie had his hand on the small of Nick’s back. It was just gross. I ended up on the other end of the long table with my mother and three of her friends, and Nick was on the opposite end with Jamie, who fed him a date covered in brie and wrapped in prosciutto, off his plate. If eye-fucking led to the regular kind, that was where Nick was going to end up. But as it was none of my business, I took a breath and focused on my mother. It was never hard to do and always enjoyable. She regaled me and her friends with stories about her last book signing. I loved hearing about her fans and the gifts they brought her and the stories they told her.