“Where will you go?” Lotus asks, redirecting me, distracting me.
“I need to go somewhere far from Caleb,” I answer in a rush. “Somewhere he doesn’t know about and can’t get to. I need some time without him in my life at all. Time to heal, I guess, because right now I just feel so …”
I can’t articulate how I feel. Hurt, but numb. Lost. What do I do now? Next? Where should I go? I have to find my place.
Center.
I’d play you at the five. If you were mine, you’d be at the center of my life.
August’s words filter through tiny gaps in the barbed-wire fence surrounding my heart. That could be my place. Instinctively, I know August would put me at the center, but one could argue I was Caleb’s center, too. A dark, twisted c
enter with the sides closing in and choking, but the center nonetheless. What if I’ve misjudged August as badly as I misjudged Caleb? Hell, as badly as I misjudged myself?
I need time to find my place in this world without anyone else at the helm. As much as I feel for August, I need to stand on my own. I need to do what’s best for my daughter and savor life and freedom and everything we almost lost.
“I know where you need to go,” Lo says as we step outside the hotel and onto the sidewalk.
“Where?”
Lo hooks her arm around my neck like she did when we were kids.
Hopscotch.
Gratitude overtakes me, and I blink tears away. She came. I called, and Lo came. She hasn’t condemned me or called me a fool for not calling sooner. The closeness between us didn’t fade when she moved to the bayou. It didn’t wash away when Katrina came, and I moved and Lo stayed. And it didn’t budge when Caleb came between us. Not really. The closeness never moved. I did. I hid behind my anger and shame, and now it’s all exposed. The light breathes grace on me.
“It’s so obvious where you should go,” Lo says.
“If it’s so obvious, then why don’t you enlighten me?”
Lo kisses Sarai’s forehead and then mine. I swear when she looks up, I feel a hot, sultry breeze tease my hair, hear the distant sound of jazz, and taste a harvest of rich flavors on my tongue.
“Where you belong, Iris,” Lo insists softly, “is home.”
33
August
“Did she say anything else?” I ask, carefully molding my mouth into a normal-looking, I’m-not-a-stalker smile. “Tell me again what Iris said.”
Sylvia sends me a longsuffering look over the clipboard pressed to her chest. The same look she’s been giving me the last few days. When Iris didn’t show the day after Caleb came, I was worried but didn’t have a way to reach her. I started bugging Sylvia then, and have been bugging her ever since, but it’s only today that she has any answers.
“She called to apologize for missing the last two days of camp but said she had to leave town unexpectedly and wouldn’t be back.”
“It was her?” I demand. “Or was it Caleb delivering the message?
“Like I told you the first three times you asked, it was Iris,” she says impatiently.
My harmless smile slips a millimeter. That was not the answer I wanted to hear.
“Isn’t that unusual?” I lean against the wall in the community center hall, my attempt at looking casual. “I mean, Iris shows up every day to volunteer and then just calls to say she’s leaving town and won’t be back. Are you concerned?”
“No.” Sylvia knits her brows. “Why would I be concerned? Concerned how?”
“Well, that she’s okay.” I rein my frustration, remembering how Caleb swept in and ruined everything. The rage in his eyes.
“The woman had a bodyguard.” Sylvia’s wry smile does nothing to ease my concern.
“Yeah, well the bodyguard’s creepy as fuck,” I say bluntly, abandoning any semblance of calm. “And Caleb looked …”