“Yeah, okay.”
It’s been hot all summer, but we’ve entered a heat wave, and I can feel myself nearly baking by the time I climb intothe air-conditioned comfort of Heaven’s car. The cool air only brings my temperature down a little. Being this close to Heaven again after the last few days does something to me. I can’t help but smile when she looks back at me with those deep brown eyes.
“Hey. Everything cool?” she says.
“Absolutely not,” I say, working out my seat belt with my left hand. “Drive like three houses down and I’ll kiss you.”
“Okay.” Heaven laughs, but almost immediately she puts the car in drive and gets us far enough away from our doorbell camera. She pulls over and I check to make sure none of my neighbors are out walking their dogs in the scorching heat, and then I do the thing I’ve been wanting to do the last few days. I lean over the center console and kiss her. She kisses me back like she’s missed me just as much.
“What’s going on at your house?” she asks me. I glance at the clock on the dashboard.
“I’ll tell you on the way. We don’t want to be late,” I say.
“ ’Kay.”
35
Saylor
Heaven drives us over to the West Adams part of LA, just beyond the new Whole Foods where this all began, and I tell her about Mom’s blowup with Stella and that she’s planned two tedious videos about packing the twins up and getting them off to soccer camp.
“It’s just so not important,” I say. “Like who cares how many pairs of socks they’re bringing to camp. I do not get it.”
Heaven just nods, biting the inside of her lip.
“What are you thinking about?” I ask her.
“Nothing. Just—I was thinking about how it’s her job, or whatever.”
“And?” I ask. “I think that just makes it weirder.”
“Listen, I’m with you. I guess I’m just looking at it from her perspective. That it’s, like, her whole job. And maybe that just makes it weirder. That she makes all this money for your family or makes you money doing it. I mean, what would you do if it wasn’t for Fosters Healing Ointment, the number one medicated ointment in America?” she teases.
“See?!” I laugh. “It’s all so weird. I just need to be away from her for a little while. I can hold her off at least untilnext week or so when I’m home, which I’m going to try to not to be.”
I glance back over at Heaven. She doesn’t say anything, but there’s another stressed look on her face. I want to know what she’s thinking about, but I’m a little nervous it might be something that I don’t want to hear.
“I know you said you wanted to do it, but I looked up some extra questions just in case,” I say. Changing the subject seems like the right thing to do.
“I think I got it. I watched like three episodes ofHot Oneslast night. I realized a little too late that Lara isn’t an actor, but I think I got the idea.”
“Cool. I’ll record and then you can make the next little presentation to show your dad, so we can officially cross off the square.” I unlock my phone and pull up the bingo card, looking at what we’ve done so far. My stomach instantly sinks. “Dang it,” I whisper.
“What?”
“I forgot about the free square.”
“What about it?”
I glance up as the maps lady’s voice comes through the speakers. “The destination is on the right.” It’s there for sure, a pink storefront under a bunch of new apartments. There’s a sign shaped like a bow hanging above the street. Le Petit Morceau.
Heaven drives right by it and manages to find street parking not too far away. We double-check the street signs and then walk back toward the shop.
“What were you saying about the free space?” Heavenasks. But before I can answer, the door to the shop opens and this tall, slim Black woman pokes her head out.
“Are you looking for me?”
“I think so,” I say.