Page 74 of Smoke and Fire
“How?”
“Stacey and Amina are beautiful together. They’ll be such a cute couple, and I’ve already figured out their relationship name! Stamina! Like stah-mee-nah, right? Besides, Stacey is pregnant and she’s going to need some support.” Dahlia waved a dismissive hand. “Amina loves her. The two of them will be the cutest mamas ever.”
I sat on a chair near the cash register, sprawled back. A coffee mug that had been regularly refilled waited half full next to me. My body buzzed with the extra caffeine, or maybe just the onslaught of Dahlia.
Dahlia stood behind the counter after finishing with a drive-through order, a glass of iced orange juice at her fingertips. Ten of Jess’s books lay open on the counter, butterflied open to her favorite spots. She’d been grilling me on the stories behindthe stories for almost an hour now. I’d never had so much fun with my books.
“I concede your point,” I said, palms spread. “I just hadn’t thought of it.”
She laughed. “I mean, you need more ideas, right? There it is.”
“Not for long.”
Her eyes bugged out of her head. “What?” she cried. “Why wouldn’t you need more ideas? You’re not stopping soon, are you?”
My response stalled, tripping over itself. How did I explain this to her without explainingeverythingto her? Inessa, Dad, the burden of their care that loomed over me like a living thing. The sheer cost of taking care of both of them would have boggled anyone’s mind. Never would I jeopardize my ability to provide for them, but . . . I wasn’t sure I could keep all of this to myself anymore either.
She straightened, clearly concerned by my silence.
“Not yet,” I said with a conciliatory hand in the air. “Jess is not my forever. Romance novels are fun and pay the bills but . . . I’m not in love with this career path. I can do it for now, but I don’t want it to be my whole life. Honestly, I’m not sure I want any single career to be my whole life. Why choose just one?”
Dahlia shrugged. “That makes sense.”
“Really?”
“Sure.”
All the tension I’d bottle up over that reply deflated. I stared at her, at a loss for words. How could such a loyal fan be so blasé? I’d kept quiet about my realfeelings for this career because I’d always worried what anyone would say.
“You just . . . accept it like that?” I asked.
“I wouldn’t want to be a barista forever. I might love it, but it wouldn’t feel like it challenged me long term. If that’s the case for you, you should do what you really love. Which is . . .” she drawled and motioned toward me with a hand.
“I don’t have any idea.”
Admitting it cost me something. Pride, maybe. Ego, certainly. Normally, I didn’t care about the fact that I had a lot of careers and never planned to settle in one. Most people didn’t think that hard about my life. With Dahlia, however, it mattered.
A startled expression came to her face, then she grinned, orange juice raised in salute.
“Same.”
Eager for any opportunity to change the topic away from me, I said, “Oh?”
“Not sure yet what I want to be next either.” She had a sip of juice, then tilted her head to the side. “Maybe something like what I’ve been doing for you. I’ve dabbled with college and a few other things, but . . .”
She trailed away, then shook her head.
“Those were derailed and I haven’t picked back up where I want because, frankly, I don’t know what I want. Seemed easier to coast for a while. Eventually, I’ll figure it out. I think I’d like to have a family one day. Not now, but . . . some day.”
The thought of squalling babies and a mortgage sent a shudder through me. So far, married life had worked out great for my friends Grady and Hernandez, but that didn’t sound like my cup of tea. There were enough people on my plate, thank you very much.
Waking up every day next to someone like Dahlia, however, I could wrap my brain around.
“Fair,” I said.
“Is it? I feel like by my late twenties I should have this figured out.”
“I’m thirty and I haven’t.”
