“Perfect.”
He kissed my forehead, leaving his lips there for an extra few seconds. “I’m glad.”
“Are you hungover?”
I’d served him enough beer last night to guess he probably had a little bit of a headache even though his eyes were clear and he wasn’t wincing.
“Not too bad.”
He put his hand in my hair, brushing through the strands, and I rested my face against his chest, the movement so relaxing.
“What are your plans today?”
“Since Frank wouldn’t put me on the schedule for tonight and I don’t have any homework, I have nothing on the agenda. I do need to go home soon and check on Gran.”
“I’ll come with you.” My body stiffened, and I imagined he’d felt it because he added, “Pearl …”
He’d offered to come with me many times before. I’d turned him down or avoided an answer each time. But as I glanced up from his chest, his hand went to my cheek.
“Don’t hide her from me. She’s the person you love most in this world; share her with me.”
“Ashe …” My voice was so soft. “It’s not her I’m hiding.” I sat up, crossing my legs in front of me.
His hand went to my knee, and he rolled onto his side to face me. “Talk to me.”
I glanced out the window, at the adorable-looking strip that was across from us, housing a cute coffee shop that we went to all the time and a restaurant that he’d taken me to a few weeks back. On the ends were brownstones that were probably worth several million.
“Where I live looks nothing like this.”
“So?”
As I gazed at him, he seemed unaffected by my brief description. I needed him to understand.
“So, it makes me uncomfortable—the thought of showing you my neighborhood when I compare it to yours.”
He cupped my cheek, his fingers rubbing a small section of scalp behind my ear. “I want to see every part of you, Pearl. Even the parts that make you uncomfortable. And believe it or not, I would be so proud if you showed me your home.”
I was staring into his eyes, searching for answers. “I don’t understand.”
“You work at the bar almost every day of the week, you go to college full-time, you’re the lead actress for the school plays, you support your grandmother, you put food on the table, you pay all of the bills.” He placed his fingers on my heart. “You do all of this without anyone’s help; every bit of it is on you. And yet, you still make Dean’s List every semester.” He kept his palm there but extended his fingers to my shoulder. “Most kids, like myself, wouldn’t be capable of even half that. We’ve been given everything we have, and we haven’t worked a day in our lives. So, instead of worrying what I’m going to think, you should be proud to show me everything you’ve worked your ass off for.”
I looked around at the matching furniture in his room and the expensive signed jerseys he had framed on the wall and the fluffy comforter that matched his pillowcases.
“You’re right,” I said softly. “It might not be the best, but it’s ours.”
There was no judgment in his eyes, just admiration. “And I will love it.”
I knew this was the next step in our relationship; it just wasn’t an easy one. I had no experience, no knowledge on how to tackle this vulnerability, how to continue to reveal all the different sides of me when each came with new, uncharted emotions.
But I would learn because holding back wasn’t fair to him.
Just as he began to rub my muscle, loosening me up, my eyes closed.
I took in a deep breath and said, “Okay.” My lids opened, and I stared into his eyes. “I’ll take you home.”
Thirty-Three
Before
Ashe
I’d never been to Roxbury. The farthest I’d ever taken the orange line was to the Mass Ave. stop to visit friends at Northeastern. But I’d heard things about that area; it was impossible not to when it was known as one of the roughest, gang-ridden sections of the city.
When stepping off the train with Pearl, I had images in my head of what I expected it to look like, and the reality met every expectation. There was graffiti almost everywhere, trash littered the sidewalks, a drug deal took place on a bench as we walked by.
Pearl acted as though she didn’t notice, and I assumed she had become immune to it all. I was sure if I’d spent most of my life here, I would have been as well.
While my hand was holding hers, she used her other one to point to a building across from us. “I lived there with Vanessa. I was probably around nine at the time. We only lasted a few months, and then we moved there.” She was nodding toward the next high-rise, both almost identical. “At some point in my life, I’ve lived in most of the buildings in this area.”
“You mostly stayed in Roxbury?”
“With Vanessa, I lived in Dorchester for a bit and Jamaica Plain, but she seemed to like Roxbury the best. I don’t know; maybe the drugs were better here.” She paused. “Gran has had the same place for as long as I can remember. She liked it because it’s so close to the train station, and she used to take the orange line to work. She was a seamstress for a small shop in the Back Bay until arthritis made it impossible for her to sew.”
None of the areas she’d mentioned were any safer than Roxbury.
I lifted her hand and held it against my lips, kissing the backs of her knuckles. “When did you move in with Gran?”
“When I was twelve.” She looked straight ahead. “Vanessa overdosed one night, and one of the junkies who lived with us carried her to the clinic. Before he took her, I was shaking her. Her lips were blue, mouth foaming.” She sighed. “It was fucking awful.” She finally glanced at me. “The next morning, when she got discharged, she came home and didn’t have anything to shoot up. She took me to her dealer’s house and didn’t have enough cash for her usual, so he fronted her, but he wanted something for collateral.” She bit her lip, breathing heavy. “She left me there.”
“Tell me you’re kidding.”
“For four days.” She glanced down, and I saw the pain in her profile. “She had known she was going to use me as collateral—that had been her plan all along.”
I squeezed her fingers, giving her every bit of strength I had.
“I always protected her, always took care of her, always made excuses for her. But once she finally came and got me, I went to Gran’s, and I never looked back.”
“I understand now.” I kept her fingers against my mouth, still kissing them. “I wouldn’t call her my mother either.”
Her eyes softened, and within a few seconds, she whispered, “Ashe … we’re home.”
Her building didn’t look different than any of the others, except the front steps were shattered with massive gaps between the breaks. Instead of grass, the property was surrounded by dirt, the snowfall that had just melted making it muddy. She took me around the back, where the lock had been broken and was dangling out of the door.
Instead of the elevator, we rushed up the stairs and down a hallway, Pearl opening the third to last door on the left. The paint was flaking off, but at one point, it looked to have been teal.