Page 128 of Best Served Cold

ROB

We bring Dottie inside as Otis comes down the stairs, carrying the pigeon in a cage. The bird is munching on some sunflower seeds, acting as if she didn’t have the adventure to end all adventures.

“This is some night,” he says, shaking his head. “Miraclesare happening.”

“How wonderful,” Dottie says, clapping. “Take a cookie, please, my young friend. Even miracles need to be fed.”

He takes two in his free hand. Before he can leave, presumably to return Fluffnut to his owner, I grab his arm. “Take an uber, would you, bud? You just chugged a beer.”

He gives me a thumbs-up. “Way ahead of you. They’re picking me up in five.” Then he turns toward Sophie and lifts the cage. “We just got this much closer to the Crafty Muncher, Soph.”

She beams at him and doesn’t correct him for using a porn-star version of her dream store’s name. Or point out the reward probably won’t go far enough.

Once Otis is gone, we gather around the dinner table. As we eat some delicious cookies, Sophie tells Dottie everything. When she gets to the part about the matches, Dottie clucks hertongue, her face a mask of disappointment. “That boy hasn’t been stroking his stone.”

I laugh, feeling so much lighter than I did an hour ago, when I’d left to come here, knowing there was a distinct possibility I might lose Sophie. But that bird descended at exactly the right moment to change the trajectory of the coin, and it felt like a sign. A twist of fate.Something.

“You’ll be pleased to know Rob’s been stroking his,” Sophie says with a mirthful glance at me. “He sometimes even keeps it in his bedsheets.”

“Which means you’ve seen them,” Dottie says with a wide grin that makesmeblush, dammit. “Congratulations, children. I couldn’t be happier for you. I knew you were destined for each other.”

I don’t argue. I like that she still thinks it, and Ilovethat Sophie’s not arguing. Taking her hand under the table, I give it a squeeze.

Before I came over here, I spent several awful hours pacing my apartment and then my neighborhood, fighting the darkness welling inside of me. Knowing that if I gave into it, I’d just be giving Jonah what he wants.

I knew Sophie would blame herself. She’d spent twelve years blaming herself, and most of the people around her had encouraged it. That kind of negativity helps set the grooves of a bad habit. So I knew she would try to break what we were building, and my fear of that told me one thing:

I couldn’t let it happen.

So I came over to make a pitch for myself.

It didn’t go the way I’d expected, but I was getting used to that. Some days life sinks you down so low you don’t think you could swim or crawl your way out, and then there are moments of grace, like what happened today. So damn beautiful it makesyour throat catch and your notion of what is possible expand to fit the unknown edges of the universe.

Still, this isn’t over. I’m not going to let Jonah hurt someone I care about. If Emil can’t come live with me, then maybe Travis could start a foster parent application. It would throw things off by a few months, which is unfortunate, but it’s better than nothing. I’m not going to go to that kid, hat in hand, and tell him I have nothing for him. Too many people have let him down already.

“It does sadden me that some people don’t want to improve themselves,” Dottie says with a sigh, setting a half-eaten cookie down on her plate. “But there must be consequences to unrelenting bad behavior, don’t you think?”

“I do,” Sophie says with purpose in her eyes. “And Jonah Price is going to feel them. TPing his house wasn’t nearly enough.”

I smile, because there it is again. The spicy side of my sweet, caring woman.

“But first we need to get Emil into a good home until he graduates.” Dottie’s gaze finds mine. “You leave that to me, my boy. I’ll get it sorted in no time. I know a few people who have been foster parents before. Good ones. I’ll knock on some doors.”

This woman has half of Asheville in the palm of her hand, and I don’t doubt she can follow through. More of the darkness I’ve been carrying lifts. I might not be the one who gets to help Emil, but I’ll still be giving him what he needs. I can make peace with that. “Thank you, Dottie.”

“You’re welcome, my dear. Now, what shall we do about your wayward brother?”

“Something tells me you already have an idea,” I say, cocking my head.

“That’s because you’ve been stroking your stone.” She smiles in delight. “It’s made you more attuned to the energy around you.”

Sophie squeezes my leg under the table, giving me a wicked look, and I layer my hand over hers.

“Haveyoubeen stroking your stone, Sophie?” Dottie asks.

Sophie blushes. “Not really, but I’ve been carrying around Rob’s lucky guitar pick.”

“Indeed,” she replies with a twinkle in her eyes.

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