Page 84 of No Place Like You

“They have those here?”

My fist loosens, and we share a small, painful chuckle. “In the morning then? Before the sun rises.”

“You? Up before the sun?” she teases. A sad smile twitches my lips, and her teeth press into her bottom lip before she finally says, “Maybe. While Nat’s still sleeping?”

I nod, trying to shift her hesitance into yes territory. “I’ll meet you out front.”

“Okay.”

“Dexter!” I turn to look behind Lucy, pushing away from her while realizing how closely we scooted up to each other, only to find Hayden’s mom approaching me with a warm and genuine smile. “How are you?”

I stand, embracing her as she opens her arms. “I’m good. How are you, Mrs. Marshall?”

“How many times am I going to have to tell you kids? Marsha.”

I smile shyly and look down to see Lucy looking up at us. “Um, have you met Lucy?”

“Oh no, I haven’t.” She turns to face Lucy, extending a hand out to her. “It’s so nice of you to accompany Dexter to my Hayden’s wedding.”

“Uh, Mrs.—Marsha, Lucy’s Natalia’s sister.”

“Oh!” She brings her hand to her mouth, embarrassed. “I’m so sorry. I just saw you two talking, and I assumed.” She gently places her hand on Lucy’s arm, and Lucy smiles back at her just as kindly.

“That’s okay,” Lucy assures. “I’m sorry we haven’t met before.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you now,” Marsha gushes. “Keep an eye on this one,” she adds. “I’m sure he can use the company.”

I see the redness creep up to Lucy’s cheeks, and as uncomfortable as this whole encounter is for her, she’s so damn adorable, I don’t even bother to deny what Marsha’s suggesting.

“Dexter,” Marsha says, calling for my attention with a gentle squeeze to my arm. “How’s your sister doing?”

“Oh,” I answer, a little thrown off in the change of subject. “She’s hanging in there. You know, a born fighter and all.” I smile a purse-lipped smile and nod.

She nods back, silently telling me I don’t have to say anything else. And instead of prodding further, she pulls me into another embrace, but this one is tighter, full of reassurance and comfort. The nurturing kind of embrace only mothers can give.

Hayden must have told her about Janet and only did so out of concern for me, or even to get some sort of advice on how to deal with a friend struggling through the role as caretaker when their loved one is sick. I pull away with a tightness in my throat and the flooding reminder of my sister’s condition. “Thank you,” I finally say, though my voice is hoarse.

“Take care of yourself,” she says, giving my arm another gentle squeeze. And then she turns to Lucy. “It was nice meeting you.”

Marsha walks away, and I’m left with Lucy, my hand gripped on the back of her chair and her looking up at me with worry.

I wish it were just us two, somewhere private and quiet. Somewhere where we could just be us, unguarded and vulnerable and maybe even a little rash. Where we don’t have to pretend. WhereIdon’t have to pretend, and I don’t have to act all apathetic or brave or whatever the hell I’m supposed to be.

I wish I could find a small closet, like a storage room or maybe even the walk-in refrigerator somewhere in the kitchen of this restaurant, and drag Lucy with me so I could tell her that I think it was so sweet of Hayden’s mom to ask about Janet and how it made me appreciate my friendship withHayden even more. Maybe even tell her how it made me think about my parents and my childhood home and how I’ve recently realized how distant I’ve become to the feeling of “home.” Not home as a place but as a feeling or emotion, like joy or hope or sadness. I’m never going tofeelhome.

And then Lucy looks at me. She looks absolutely heartbroken. I get lost in her eyes for a little bit, the same ones misting over and glistening against the warm light, and I want to ask her if she knows what home feels like. If it feels like this, how it is with me and her, or is it just a place for her like it is for most. Just four walls that echo sharp footsteps and a roof that occasionally leaks.

37

Lucy

There’snothing but a blue haze filtering into the cold hotel room when my alarm goes off in the morning. I set it to the quietest sound, birds chirping or something just as discreet, but I’m already awake.

I knew this wasn’t going to be easy. Us going back to just Lucy and Dexter as separate people. Not one, not a couple. But I didn’t think it would be this hard. I didn’t realize how much I wouldmisshim. I’m on a tropical island, but I want nothing more than to be back in Dexter’s apartment, us hovering over takeout and the warm, uncomfortable New York City humid heat.

I slip on whatever was on top of my suitcase, a pair of jean shorts and a loose T-shirt, and quickly wash up in the bathroom. Nat is snoring softly, something she claims she never does, when I close the heavy hotel door and quickly walk to the elevator. When I get to the lobby, Dexter’s already there. He stands from the cushioned armchair he was sitting in, where he’s dressed in a tank top, his toned arms and impossible-not-to-stare-at biceps on display.

“Hi,” I whisper when I reach him.

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