“Does it have meatballs?”
“We’ll find out.”
* * *
While Eve discovered zucchini—again?—instead of meatballs, Rochelle let out a wild scream in the tiny corner of her bedroom she’d used for office space since Lyle moved in.
She followed it with a whoop, then a dance.
She whirled around when Lyle rushed in.
“What the hell, Ro?”
“Oh! I didn’t know you were home.”
“Just walked in. I thought you were fighting off a rapist or some shit.”
“No. Nothing.” She laughed, waved a hand. “You’ve got the night off. I forgot.”
“First night off in eight straight.” Frowning at her, he leaned on her doorjamb.
He’d put back on the weight he’d lost to illegals and prison, and had a fit, healthy look that warmed her heart. And though she liked him clean shaven—he was handsome!—she didn’t mind the strip of scruff around his jawline. He wore his hair in short dreads.
Best of all, his eyes, nearly the same shade as hers, remained clear. A little tired, maybe, but clear.
“I’ll fix you something to eat.”
He pointed at her. “You’re dressed fancy again.”
“Not really fancy.” She did have on her second-best dress—the blue one with the banded cuffs, but she didn’t think it rated fancy. “I’m taking Wilson to dinner, but I’ve got time to fix you something.”
“I’m a cook, remember?”
Yes, he was, she thought—and it thrilled her.
“A cook with a night off. Missed having you around,” she added and walked over to hug him. There’d been a time he wouldn’t have returned the hug, but he did now, even lifted her a scant inch off the floor along with it.
“Why’d you scream?”
“I was just—Oh, I can’t hold it in. Why should I? It’s . . .”
He took a hard grip when her eyes filled. “You tell me what’s wrong, Ro. Right now.”
“Not wrong. Perfect. Look at my face! I’m just so damn happy. It’s why I screamed, why I forgot about your night off. Why I can barely remember my name except it’s right there, on the contract.”
He glanced toward her mini-screen. “What contract?”
“For my new job. For my dream job. Hell, here I go again.”
She screamed, grabbed him and danced.
“You’ve got a job. You love your job. What dream job?”
“As head therapist at An Didean. The shelter and school.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard something about that place. Funny name. Wait. That’s a Roarke deal, right? You’re going to work for Roarke and the cop skirt.”
Grinning like a fool, Rochelle poked him in the chest. “She’d bust you for the skirt, but yes. You don’t have a problem with that, do you?”
“Why would I? Man, Roarke turns shit into gold all the damn time. It must be a good place or you wouldn’t go into it.”
“It will be, a really good place. It’s scheduled to open in May. I have so much work to do to get ready!”
“Wait, back up. You said head. Like chief? Like numero uno?”
“With a staff of eight counselors, therapists and an administrative assistant.” She put a hand to her ear as if listening. “Do you hear that word, Lyle? Staff!”
His whole face lit up, for her. “Jesus, Ro. This is a big fucking deal. Like monster fucking big. MFBFD.”
“I can hardly get my breath. It’s why I asked Wilson out to dinner. I wanted to tell him. You know what? I’ll tell him to come over here, we’ll order in and celebrate like maniacs.”
“Oh hell no, you take your fancy ass out with your man, have a big night. I was figuring on cleaning up, heading to a meeting then over to see Gram and the gang. I haven’t seen her in a couple weeks, and she’ll skin my ass if it’s much longer. I’ll be late for dinner, but she’s always got leftovers. Then I thought I’d just bunk there or at Martin’s tonight.”
Or he did now, to give his sister and her man the place to themselves.
“Can I tell ’em?”
“Yes. Absolutely yes. And that I’ll get in touch tomorrow. Oh, Lyle, you should see the place. I got a tour today—from the boss! It’s just amazing. The thought and care that’s going into it. We’re going to change lives. We’re going to save lives.”
“You saved mine.”
“No, honey, you—”
“You’re a freaking wonder, Ro. I’m real proud.”
“So am I, of you.” She cupped his face. “So am I.”
“Get going. Get your fancy on, and tell Crack I said to take you dancing. Maybe you come by tomorrow lunchtime. I’ll cook you up something special.”
“I’m going to do all of that.” She grabbed her coat, stuck her arms in. “This is going to make a big difference for us, Lyle. Such a difference. You tell Gram to plan a big family dinner for your next night off. We’re going to celebrate till we drop.
“Crap, I’m going to be late.” She snagged a scarf and her purse on the run. “I love you, Lyle.”
“Back at you squared, Ro.”
* * *
She bubbled like a fountain all through dinner. Crack couldn’t stop grinning at her as she told him about the meeting, the tour, the offer, the contract. Her plans—already so many plans.
It was one of the things he loved about her. She planned ahead. She had a skill for being in the moment, focused on that moment and the person, but she also knew how to plan ahead.
She knew how to see what was, and what could be.
“Who knew when I met Roarke on Saturday night I’d end up working for him? I think Nicci did. You know my supervisor, Wilson. I think she had a feeling. Anyway, she said she did. I felt I had to tell her I’d accepted the offer, and was just waiting for the contract on Roarke’s end. She was happy for me, Wilson.”
“Sure she was. She ain’t no fool.”
“I’m going to miss working with that team. But oh, I’m going to have a new team, and with the tools we’ll have, the financing, the educators, it’s going to—” She broke off, laughing. “You need to stop me because I can’t stop myself.”
“Not in this lifetime. My Dr. Ro, head of the head shrinkers.” He put his big hand over hers. How ’bout I get a tour of the place.”
“Yes, you have to see it. It’s so well-planned, so inclusive. It has such heart. Wilson, you remember that awful thing about all those girls, the remains they found when they started the work there.”
“I remember.”
“They’ve got a roof garden, so the students can plant and grow things, so they can have places to go sit outside. They’ve put a memorial to those poor girls up there. It’s sad, but it’s also uplifting. Their lives mattered, and they’re remembered. It’s beautiful, Wilson.”
“I told you before we went to Nadine’s how they’re about the best people I know. Don’t know how I’d’ve gotten through after that crazy bastard killed my sister, my baby.”
Now Rochelle brought that big hand to her cheek, cradled it. “That skinny white girl held on to me when I fell to pieces. She got justice for my baby. And the two of them, they planted that tree for her in the park. Kindest thing anybody ever did for me.”
He gave her hand a squeeze, picked up his beer to steady himself. “Now I know they’re smart enough to hire up the best. ’Cause that’s what you are. I love you, Ro.”
“Wilson.” He made everything inside her feel light and right. “I love you, too. It’s so strange, isn’t it? We met at such a sad moment, and here we are, making something so good together. I feel my life’s taking such a turn. Lyle finding himself again, you, now this. I can look back, remember, even feel how hard, scary, rocky things were. And now all this. I feel blessed, Wilson.”
“You earned every blessing.”
She smiled, leaned toward him. “How about we skip dessert?”
“You? My sweet-tooth lady?”
“Walt’s at the dorm for sure. Lyle’s staying at Martin’s. We have the apartment to ourselves. All night.”
“I’ll get the check.”
* * *
She giggled her way up the steps, grabbed him outside the apartment door for a steamy kiss. There was so much of him, all hard and cut and strong. He made her feel delicate when she was anything but.
She fumbled with her keys for the police-grade locks she’d paid to have installed. And reminded herself they’d be able to afford a better place, a better neighborhood, very soon.
Crack took the keys, unlocked the door. He swung her through with every intention of completing the circle until her back was against the closed door, and he could get good and started.
They both saw Lyle slumped in the chair in the tiny living space, vomit on his shirt, his eyes glazed and fixed, and the pressure syringe empty in his lap.
“No!” She started to leap forward, but Crack wrapped around her, held her firm against that closed door.
“You can’t touch him, Ro. You can’t touch anything.”
“You let me go! Lyle. Oh my God, Lyle. Let me go, goddamn it.”
She fought him, a strong, desperate woman. She cursed him, beat at him, but he held her back. Held her when she went limp. Held her as he lowered with her to the floor.
“No, no, no. Lyle. Please, please. Maybe he’s—”
“Baby, my baby, he’s gone. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Ro.”
“He wouldn’t. He wasn’t using, I swear it. He wouldn’t do this. He’d never do this.”
“I believe you. Look at me now. Just at me.” When she did, tears streaming, he kept rocking, but kept his eyes on hers. “We need the cops. I’m going to get somebody you can trust. I’m going to get Dallas.”