Don’t put the cocoa down. You want the cocoa. You want it bad.
I couldn’t hold out against her looks. They were too damning, and it was too early for this kind of heavy choice. I put the cocoa down and reached for the tea.
“Well done. I knew you had it in you,” she said as if we were running a combat mission together.
“We’re going to have to get better tea if this continues.” It tasted like sucking on an old penny.
“Agreed.” She smiled and raised a mug to me, letting her gaze go all the way down to the two feet I was standing on. “You look much better. The way your leg was puffed up last night, I didn’t think you’d be up on it for a week.”
“Yeah, I guess I needed a good sleep, is all.”
I took a seat at the table, propping my bad leg up on to the other chair, feeling like it shouldn’t be this good yet even if it was. Had I taken something last night to help it? There was this nagging feeling in my head that something important had happened. Trying to pin it down felt like roaming around in a pea-soup fog trying to find a cloud.
Bertha and Musso strolled in, with Zab after them and Oscar a minute or so later. The smell of Bertha’s cooking began to permeate the air as Zab remarked on how warm the back room was for this early. I’d assumed he’d come down and warmed it, but apparently not.
I leaned closer to Bibbi, who’d taken the chair next to me and was working on her knitting again.
“You ever have an idea or a dream and it’s like”—I raised my hand to my head, as if I could pluck something out—“right there? You know it is but you can’t quite get to it?”
“Only every day,” Bibbi said. “Stop trying to think about it. That helps me sometimes. Then it’ll hit you out of the blue. Or it won’t, and you’ll have forgotten you cared in the first place. Either way, you’re good.” She went back to her knitting.
I was still sipping my bland, acidic tea. “Bertha, do you have any good tea blends?”
The woman could cook like she was born with a spoon in her hand. She must have some finesse in other areas.
“Oh, yes!” She nearly jumped up and down in her eagerness to prove her skills in the beverage arena. She was putting a mug down in front of me not two minutes later, waiting for me to try it.
Musso was standing behind her, looking at me with fear in his eyes. Nothing scared that man. I took a sip and understood. Suddenly I longed for the bland bitterness of the old stuff.
Then I lied like my life depended upon it.
“Wow, this is…amazing.”
Bertha glowed, and Musso sagged, as if he’d just been given a stay of execution.
“That bad?” Bibbi whispered as Bertha went back to cooking.
“Don’t ever try it.”
Hawk walked into the room, and I forced my attention on Bibbi’s knitting so I had something else to focus on.
“You made a lot of progress since last night,” I said, pointing to her knitting.
She’d barely made any. Saying anything was better than sitting in silence while I pretended Hawk wasn’t in the room.
She held it up. “I mean… I guess?”
Hawk stopped beside the chair where my leg was propped up. He gave me a nod as he looked at it. It was the most interaction we’d had since our last fight.
“It’s fine,” I said, putting my foot solidly on the ground. But something about him hovering over my leg… There was something there. If it weren’t for that damned pea soup.
He took a step away from me.
“Did you…”
He looked back at me, waiting. “Did I what?” He lifted his brows, having no idea what I wanted and sounding like he didn’t want to know, either.
So much for being able to have a civil conversation.
“Nothing. Forget it.”
20
The weekly meeting, the one that typically put me to sleep or had me hiding in a corner, trying to avoid eye contact, was tonight.
I was wide awake and filled with dread. There’d surely be questions directed my way, and I didn’t have a lot of answers to shoot back, which seemed to be the norm. I’d run short on answers the majority of my life. Why should these people get special treatment?
I made my way downstairs, figuring I’d get there early and find a good corner to hide in. The noise of everyone talking made it obvious I was already late. Seemed everyone else had decided to get there early.
The smell of Gillian’s cocoa wafted through the packed back room as she walked around, topping off mugs and smiling as if she were hosting this affair.
She spotted me at the door and smiled, holding up her pot of cocoa in a silent offering. I raised my hand and declined with a smile. Never thought I’d miss Belinda’s outright dislike of me. At least it had all been laid on the table. Gillian was all fluff and good graces. She might’ve hated my guts or thought of me as a sister, and I wouldn’t know either way.
Hawk was sitting on the edge of the table. He watched me as he sipped cocoa—that was, until Gillian stepped in his line of view, to top off his drink.
Bibbi waved me over, and Zab moved, making a spot in between them. Beyond them was Musso, who was typically hanging near the front of the room, and Oscar, who was always lingering in the back of the room. Bertha was in front of us.
The hand-chosen seat made me feel like I was encased in bubble wrap. Was there a problem I was unaware of? We were all on the same side, I thought. That had been my impression until I’d gotten bodyguards all around, the Xest version of bulletproof glass.
I’d sat by Bibbi because I usually sat by Bibbi. I hadn’t sat here for security reasons. This was not the look I was going for. Everyone probably knew I’d taken a beating recently, and now it looked like I was afraid of my own shadow. I glanced around, but there weren’t any other free seats to be had. It appeared that I’d ride this meeting out in my bubble.
Hawk stood, glancing my way before he walked to the board. This look I was very familiar with. It was his guess you’re not stepping up again glare.
I looked to the board, indicating that was exactly what I was doing. There would be no debates, not even silent ones, because we still weren’t on speaking terms for the most part.
Hawk tilted his head toward the board with the lists of where everyone stood in this fight. “Any updates?”
There were a couple of murmurs but nothing else. Guess it had been a slow week for spying. Looking at the turnout this week, I’d expected a bit more.
Hawk called out a woman in the back of the room. “Charuesse, you said you were going to check in with Hendrick. You weren’t able to come up with anything?”
“I tried, but they weren’t talking,” Charuesse replied. “I’d keep them as neutral for now. Not sure how they feel, but they don’t seem to have the stomach for fighting unless they have to.”
“Any other updates?” Hawk asked, and then rattled off a few more names.
Seemed it was going to be the same story with most of them. People had either picked a side or decided not to pick at all. That was fine. If it wasn’t added to the head count of people wanting me dead, I could live with neutral, literally.
I noticed a motion in the corner and glanced over. It was one of Zab’s friends leaning against the wall, waving in my direction. His name was Ab and he’d seemed interested in maybe dating, like I had time for that in my life. I hadn’t seen him in what felt like ages.