Queen Move

Mona stops loading dishes and gives me her full attention. “How do you feel? What does this mean for, like, kids? You want them?”

“I think I do, yeah, but not now. I didn’t want them right now, and my doctor makes it seem like now or never. She thinks I may have a year and a half to two years, somewhere around there, if I want one naturally.”

“Shit.” Mona digs her hands into the front pockets of her denim cut-offs. “You already started treatments? My mother did hormone replacements.” She winces. “Not that you’re like my mom’s age or anything. I didn’t mean it to sound like—”

“Don’t worry. I know what you mean. My mother’s barely in menopause, much less me. And my doctor wanted me to try a homeopath first.”

“How’s it going?”

“Oh, it’s going all right.” I grimace. “I’ve been ‘going’ for two days straight. She gave me some detox pills and some other stuff to try to restart my cycle and address some of the other symptoms I have just a little of.”

“Wait.” Mona’s eyes widen. “You don’t have a period anymore?”

“Not in four months.”

“And once your period comes back? Do you then start trying to have a baby?”

“Well I don’t have anyone to do that with. Even if I can get pregnant, it’s the worst time for that. I’m about to go back on the road for a campaign.”

“Who?” Mona leans forward, her voice lowered.

“I hope Mateo Ruiz,” I say, a bitter curve to my lips. “But he’s not sure he wants me yet.”

“You just elected the president,” Mona says indignantly. “You don’t have anything to prove.”

“Yeah, that’s how I thought about it at first, too, but each candidate has to feel comfortable with the person leading their campaign. He’s right not to assume that just because I was the right person for Maxim that I’m right for him.” I give a self-deprecating smile. “Besides, Daddy always used to say it was better to be accused of modesty than of being too big for your britches.”

“He was such a great man. I know we haven’t seen each other in a long time, but I would have come to the funeral if I’d been in town. Glad Ezra made it. I was surprised you two didn’t keep in touch after seeing each other again.”

“We were both really busy, I guess,” I tell Mona, turning to place dishes in the sink because I don’t know what my face would give away. “Lennix and I had just released our book. It hit the New York Times, which neither of us expected. Between the book tour and running a few campaigns, I didn’t have much time for going down Memory Lane.”

“What a fabulous life you’re leading,” Mona says, her smile pleased, proud. “And now, if Congressman Ruiz is smart, you might help Georgia elect its first Latino governor.”

“It’ll be quite the fight. If I get the job, it won’t be the best time to be pregnant.”

“Oh, yeah.” Mona’s expression falls. “You have a lot to think about.”

“I’m hoping this time off here at home will help me figure out what I want, what’s right for me.”

“Well, while you figure it out,” Mona says, tipping her head toward the window overlooking the backyard, “there’s a fine biker dude who might take you on.”

“I don’t know about a summer fling. My life’s too complicated right now for anyone to get the wrong idea about what I’m expecting.”

“Maybe just a few dates.”

“Nah. I don’t really like to date. I just like to fuck.”

Mona’s eyes widen looking over my shoulder, and then squint as she laughs. “Oh my God! If you could see your face, Ezra.”

I swing around and Ezra’s standing at the door holding an empty tray. He doesn’t look at me but walks past us to place the tray in the sink.

“Just like o

ld times,” he says. “Me walking in on some conversation I wish I could un-hear.”

I wish I could un-say that last comment.

“Where’s Noah?” I ask, changing the subject quickly.