“Yes.”
He reached over and grabbed my hand, holding it gently. It felt safe. Comfortable. Like he was my home. “Sugar, I am over the moon for you,” he said quietly. “If there is anyone I know that deserves happiness, it’s you. You are the bestest friend I’ve ever had, and if someone else finally gets to see what I get to see, then you will never find me jealous of him for taking up some of your time. But know this: if he hurts you in any way, shape, or form, no one will ever be able to find his body. You get me?” A bit of Helena flashed in his eyes.
I squeezed his hand. “I get you. And I’m not going to let things change. Things will be just like they’ve always been.”
Sandy’s smile took on a melancholic curve. “Everything changes sometime.”
“Not us,” I insisted. “I won’t let that happen. It’ll still be you and me against the world.”
“And Vince.”
“No. Not and Vince. You’ve been here practically my whole lif
e. I’ve known Vince a few days.” Even though it feels like so much longer, was the thing that went unsaid. We both heard it, but didn’t address it.
“But it’s been the best few days of your life,” he said, no recrimination in his voice.
I didn’t know how to respond to that, because it was true. And I hated it. Sort of.
He knew me too well. “Right, Paul?”
I shrugged.
He sighed like he was a bit annoyed which, to be fair, he probably was. “Honey, just when I start to think you can accept things and move forward with them, you have these idiotic little notions in your head that you’re not good enough, that you don’t deserve to be happy like everyone else.”
“I don’t think like that,” I replied weakly, but we both knew it was a lie.
He didn’t call me on it. He didn’t have to. “And whether or not you can admit it,” he continued, “you’ve smiled more this past week than you have at any point that I can remember.”
“You must have mistaken smiling for looks of frustration, bewilderment, and full-on horror.”
“Hey, Paul?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m going to say a word,” Sandy said. “Just react how you normally would, okay?”
I glanced warily at him. “Cracker Jack psychology. Fun.”
“Ready?”
I nodded.
“Vince,” he said.
I smiled widely; I couldn’t stop it if I’d tried. “Oh, goddammit!”
He smirked at me but didn’t say anything in response.
“Finding alternate route,” That Damn Bitch said succinctly.
THE bike store smelled like rubber and sweat and good health. I hated it.
“Can I help you?” the cheery little woman asked as we walked in. She had to be just under five feet tall, but she was ripped, and I thought it was possible she could kick my ass in a fight. Then I wondered why my first thought was that I was going to fight this woman, and I just chalked it up to me being weird. As usual.
“Hi, I’m looking for a bike,” I said.
“Well, you came to the right place!” she said with a chuckle.