by Tabatha Kiss
“Hey, give that back.”
“Only if you promise to stop taking notes on our love lives for your naughty romance novels. Steal your ideas from K-dramas just like everybody else.”
“Okay, fine.” Melanie takes it back and sets it down. “I’ll stop.”
I keep staring forward, my hand running on autopilot to deposit multiple sips of my drink down my throat. I made up excuses to say no but they instantly dissolved the second Clive’s tongue touched mine. Damn the consequences, or so I thought…
“Nora? You still in there?”
I’m not sure which one said it but I glance between their sympathetic eyes. “Hmm,” I hum.
“Look,” Melanie says, “we are but two opinions. Ultimately, it’s up to you. What do you want?”
I flex my jaw. “I want my sexy, homeless street rat,” I say.
“Then, go get him.” She smiles. “Who am I to judge? I’m probably just jealous anyway. I haven’t gotten laid in months.”
Trix nods. “That would explain the writer’s block.”
Melanie agrees. “I do write my best when I get nightly dick.”
“You could always call Robbie.”
“You shut your whore mouth.”
“Meow.” Trix hisses. “Grouchy.”
Melanie balances her chin on her palm. “So, how’s Marcus?” she asks.
“Ugh. Touché.”
I look at Melanie. “You really think he’s picked himself up by now?”
She shrugs. “Probably. You could ask him.”
“I wouldn’t even know how to bring up something like this,” I say.
Trix smiles. “‘Hey, Daddy. You homeless?’ is probably a good start.”
I furrow my brow and pour the rest of my mimosa down in one smooth gulp.
Twenty-Four
Nora
We leave Moira’s Cafe shortly before two. I cringe at the bright sunlight beaming down on me so I search my purse for a pair of sunglasses.
Trix pauses on the sidewalk. “You guys want to hit up a movie or something?”
I laugh. “Anything to keep you from going home, right?”
“You don’t understand,” she says. “My rejection of his little Kodak package is just making it worse. Might have to throw doggy a bone before shuffling him off to the pound.”
“Yeah, don’t do that.”
Melanie points across the street. “Hey, isn’t that Clive?”
I spin around. “Where?”
“The laundromat.”
Trix nudges between us. “Lemme see!”
I follow Melanie’s pointed finger and there’s Clive stepping out of the laundromat at the opposite corner.
“Yeah,” I say, my insides twisting with warmth. “That’s him.”
Trix swoons. “Daaaamn.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Maybe I should go to Judy’s...”
Melanie nods. “Good, ole Judy,” she says. “She changes lives.”
Clive steps off the curb and pauses by the trunk of an old, beat-up car with a garment bag draped over his arm.
“Is that the mythical house-on-wheels?” Trix asks.
“I don’t know,” I answer truthfully. “It’s possible he’s not homeless anymore, you guys. Mel, you did say your interview was half a year ago.”
“This is truth,” Melanie says.
Trix squints. “We should get closer.”
I twitch. “Why?”
“Well, if he’s got blankets and pillows in the back, then we’ll know where he sleeps.”
“There are loads of reasons why someone might have pillows and blankets in their car,” I argue.
“Oh, yeah? Name one.”
I stutter. “Camping?”
“Does Daddy seem like the camping type?”
I scoff. “Stop it. I don’t call him that.”
Clive pops his trunk and I can’t help but push up onto the tips of my toes to try and get a better look inside.
“Let’s follow him,” Melanie says.
I snap in her direction. “Are you serious?”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s rude!”
Trix smiles. “I can be rude.”
“Well, I can’t!” I say.
“Two against one.” Melanie grabs my arm. “We’re doing this.”
“No, wait, guys—!”
She tugs me along with her around the building to the parking lot.
“We’ll take my car,” Trix says, grabbing her valet stub. “It’s the least conspicuous and I’m the best getaway driver in case he pulls evasive maneuvers.”
“No one’s pulling evasive maneuvers!” I say. “You guys, come on.”
Trix gives her stub to the valet. “Lightning fast, please. I’ll slip you a fifty if the car is in front of me in fifteen seconds.”
He grabs her keys and races into the lot.
Clive closes the trunk and rounds the car toward the driver’s side door.
I breathe through the rising panic in my chest. “Clive will be long gone by then,” I say. “Can we just go to the movies instead?”
“No, he won’t,” Melanie says, raising a finger. “Daddy’s still right there.”
I force her hand down. “Will you please stop pointing at him?”
“Nora,” she takes a breath, “do you want to know if he’s still homeless or not?”
“Well, yeah, but—”
“And do you feel, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that he’d tell you the truth if you walked up and asked him right now?”
I pause. “I dunno.”
Trix’s car screeches to a halt beside us.
Melanie smiles. “Then, get in the fucking car.”
I deflate. They’re going to do this with or without me. I might as well tag along and make sure they don’t confront him directly. Or worse.
“Fine,” I say, lowering into the backseat. “But I’m doing this under protest.”
She winks. “Sure, you are.”
Melanie hops into the front seat next to Trix, who immediately slams on the gas as soon as her door is closed.
I clutch the seat beneath me as I click my seatbelt and hope for the best.
Melanie points down the block. “He’s at the light. Hurry.”
“Slow down, Mel...” Trix says, calm and collected. “We need to establish a safe distance first.”
I frown. “How many times have you done this?”
“Enough,” she answers.
“He’s turning!” Melanie points again. “He’s turning!”
“I see him...” Trix says, slightly annoyed.
Clive takes a right turn and disappears down the street. We make it to the intersection in time to see him stop at a light a block away.
“Don’t lose him,” Melanie says.
Trix merely sighs and ignores her.
I sit back with crossed arms, feeling absolutely wretched. Maybe I should have just asked him directly on the street. Or, better yet, maybe I shouldn’t bring it up at all. He’ll tell me when he’s ready.
I look up into the rearview mirror. The pearl on my choker waves back and forth as Trix weaves between lanes. I smile slightly, remembering everything about last night and this morning. Safe and warm. I don’t want to lose that…
But still, my eyes keep flicking ahead. I don’t want to lose him right now either. Curiosity clenches my gut. There’s still so much I don’t know about Clive Snow.
Clive turns off the street into a parking lot. Trix slows down and slides into an empty parking spot just off the street and barely out of sight of Clive’s vehicle.
Trix tosses her seatbelt off. “All right, ladies. Light feet.”
They throw open their doors and I roll my eyes as I reluctantly join them. We walk to the edge of the building to get a view of Clive’s car in the parking lot, me stepping normally while the two of them slide against the wall with their backs hunched over like sinister cats. I’m glad they’re having fun with this because I’m about ready
to turn around and—
“It’s a gym,” Melanie says.
“Daddy getting his swole on,” Trix muses. “Is he as ripped as he looks, Nora?”
I ease forward slightly to catch sight of Clive as he opens his trunk and withdraws a red gym bag.
“Yeah, he’s in pretty good shape,” I answer. “He also works at a gym on weekends and, low and behold, it’s Sunday. So, now that we know he didn’t drive to a box under a bridge, can we please go?”
Melanie gasps. “Maybe this is where he showers!”
Trix slaps her shoulder. “You think?”
“Yeah! Gym memberships don’t cost nearly as much as rent and it’d cost even less with an employee discount. If I were homeless, this is how I’d stay clean.”
I sigh. I want to argue but she makes a decent point.
“What are we looking at?”
I jump at the familiar male voice in my ear. I spin around, coming face-to-face with Robbie.
“God, Rob!” I smack the arm of his leather jacket. “You scared the shit out of me...”
Trix smiles. “Hi, Robbie!”
Melanie groans at him. “What do you want?”
“I saw you guys slinking around,” he says with a shrug. “Thought I’d come say hi.”
Melanie crosses her arms. “You know, for a city with almost three million people in it, we tend to bump into each other an awful lot.”
“Yeah, it’s almost like you’re obsessed with me or something,” he says, smirking. “So, whatcha up to? Casting spells from the Book of Shadows you found in your attic after your grandmother died?”
“Did you literally look up a bunch of witch references just to whip out and insult me with?” Melanie asks.
He nods. “Yes, I did.”
She rolls her eyes.
Trix waves him closer. “We’re spying on Nora’s Dom!”
His jaw drops at me. “You have a Dom?!”
I sulk in annoyance. “Trix…”
“Wait, I thought you were a Dom,” he says.
“No.” I shake my head. “I’m a submissive.”
“Well, that’s disappointing,” he says. “I pictured you in a corset with a little whip. It was so cute.”
Melanie raises a brow. “You pictured her in a corset?”
“Hey,” he waves his left hand, “do you see a ring on this finger?”
She sneers with disgust and turns away from him.
His grin returns and he pushes forward to stand with Trix. “So, where is he? I wanna see him.”
She sighs. “He went inside.”
“Oh, the gym.” He nods with respect. “Nothing like that mid-Sunday pump.”
“Hey —” Trix nudges him. “Will you go in and see if he’s using the shower?”
Robbie rises an inch. “Will I what?”
Melanie nods. “Yes!”
I glare at her. “How are you agreeing with this?”
“Because my momentary desire to solve this mystery briefly outweighs my eternal hatred for Robbie,” she says.
“Oh, this must be good, then,” he says. “What mystery?”
I groan in defeat. “He may have been homeless six months ago...”
He pauses. “Okay...”
“So, we’re following him to see if he’s still homeless now.”
“Why, does he smell?”
“No,” I answer.
“Then, who cares?”
Trix snorts. “You and Mel agree on something.”
He smirks at Melanie. “Oh, Melanie and I have agreed many, many times.”
Melanie stays quiet, her eyes squinting.
He turns back to me. “So, you want me to go in there to see if he’s... using the shower?”
Trix nods. “Yep.”
“Instead of, I don’t know, asking him yourself if he’s homeless?”
I cringe. “Yeah.”
“Why can’t one of you do it?”
Melanie points at me. “Well, he knows her. He’d probably recognize me, too.”
“Why can’t Trix do it, then?” he asks.
She sneers. “Because I don’t wanna.”
Robbie looks between the three of us and sighs. “What does he look like?” he asks.
“He’s your height,” I say, looking up at him. “Brown hair, short but not buzzed. Bright, blue eyes. He was wearing jeans and a blue t-shirt with a black jacket.”
“No,” Melanie says. “He wore black pants and a blue jacket.”
“Pretty sure it was jeans.”
Trix wrinkles her nose. “I thought he had a dark gray polo.”
“Ladies,” Robbie says. “Do the world a favor: Never witness a murder. Mm’kay?”
Melanie takes out her phone. “Okay, hold on. I should have a picture of him.”
I blink. “Why do you have a picture of him?”
“I took it during our interview,” she says, swiping the screen. “Ah — here!”
She hands it to Robbie and he takes a look.
“Hello, gorgeous!” He winks at me. “Good job, Nor.”
My lips twitch as I blush. “Thanks.”
“Wait, when was this interview?” he asks.
“Five months ago-ish?” Melanie answers.
“So, you were taking pictures of gorgeous men while you were still married to me but for me to mentally picture Nora in a corset now is— you know what?” He gives the phone back. “Never mind. I’m just gonna let that one marinate. Be right back.”
He spins around and walks off toward the gym.
“Thanks, Robbie!” Trix shouts after him, prompting a casual wave with his good hand.
Melanie exhales hard with a raised brow. “He has a point, doesn’t he?”
I nod. “We won’t tell, though.”
“Thank you.”
Trix heaves a happy sigh. “This is way better than a movie.”
I sink a little deeper, feeling a heavy weight on my shoulders. This feels wrong. I trust him. He trusts me. That bond is forming, albeit slowly, but it’s there and I can feel it. I don’t want to sneak around and follow him like some—
“Oh—!” Trix slaps my arm. “He’s coming back.”
My heart leaps as Robbie shuffles his way back toward our hiding place.
“Well, I was right,” he says, stopping in front of us.
We lean in.
“Right about what?” I ask with wide eyes.
“If you walk up to the counter and say, ‘Hey, I know I don’t go here, but can I check your showers for a man with bright, blue eyes?’ they will ask you to leave.”
I deflate. “You didn’t see him?”
He shakes his head. “I did not. Sorry, Nora.”
“Thanks anyway, Rob.”
“Don’t mention it.” He shifts back a step. “Now, if you ladies will excuse me, I have to get back to work.”
Melanie snorts. “Sure ya do.”
He smirks. “What part of that do you find so unbelievable, Mel?”
“All of it,” she says. “Just… the whole thing.”
“You know, most men wouldn’t say this, but I wish you were more like your mother.”
She grits her teeth in offense. “What did you just say?”
Trix rolls her eyes at me. “Oh, boy.”
“You heard me,” Robbie says, twisting to face Melanie. “Glenn and Francie don’t doubt me at all. They encourage and support me, unlike you. In fact, I’m going to tell them about this next weekend.”
“N… next weekend?” she repeats.
“That’s right.” He nods.
“What’s next weekend?”
“My monthly dinner with your parents.”
Her face turns beet red. “Your what?”
“I have dinner with your parents once a month,” he says with a shrug. “You didn’t know?”
“No, I didn’t know!” she seethes. “Why do you still have dinner with my parents?”
“Because they’re awesome.”
“Bullshit.” She poi
nts a finger at him. “What are you up to?”
“I’m not up to anything, Mel. I’ve always had a good relationship with your parents. Don’t make this some kind of conspiracy. I like hanging out with them and they enjoy keeping in touch with me, so we have dinner.”
“Not after the divorce is finalized! After that, you’re supposed to go away.”
“Says who?” he asks.
“Says everybody!”
I break away from the group and walk toward Clive’s car as their argument surges on behind me.
Robbie chuckles. “Well, luckily, I’ve never been one to blindly follow what society tells me I’m supposed to do, so I’m just gonna keep doing what makes me happy.”
“No.” Melanie stomps her foot in defiance. “This stops now.”
“You’re free to start tagging along, if you want,” he offers.
“No, thank you.”
“Fine. We’ll all just see each other at Christmas, then.”
“You’re coming to my family’s Christmas?!” she shrieks.
“Yes.”
“No, you’re not.”
“And miss Francie’s peppermint snickerdoodles?” He scoffs. “Not a chance.”
“Robbie, where are you going?”
“Work.”
“Bullshit.”
I stare into the backseat of Clive’s car, or what bits of it I can see into. The windows are covered with makeshift blockers to keep the sun out — or unwanted attention. Like exactly what I’m doing right now.
There’s a pillow on the seat. Food wrappers and empty water bottles. Not enough evidence to prove it but just enough to make me believe it.
Trix enters my reflection in the window and wraps her arm around my shoulder. “You want to catch that movie?” she asks, giving me a reassuring squeeze.
I force a light smile. “No, I think I’ll just head home.”
“I’ll drive you back to your car.” She looks over her shoulder. “Once we separate those two, obviously…”
I chuckle and follow her gaze toward the empty street. “Where did they go, exactly?” I ask.
She grimaces. “Ah, crap.”
We rush off down the street to catch up with them.
Twenty-Five
Clive
I shove the towel cart around the corner, pausing by the hamper outside the locker rooms to gather the last dirty ones on this floor. Then, it’s an hour of quiet downstairs while I wash and dry and fold. Of all my jobs, I can honestly say this one is the most relaxing — not that it will matter much today after what happened last night.
