I wouldn’t pick a single one of them for myself, but as I try them on, I realize Cynnie has an amazing eye. They all look likethey were made for me, and make me feel like a million bucks, especially the waistcoat, which laces like a corset and gives me back the square shoulders and perfect posture I had in the Navy, which too many hours sitting, even in my ergonomic chair, has degraded.
I buy everything she picks out for me, and while she’s off selfie-ing, I buy a necklace she admired but shook her head at after sneaking a look at the price tag. It’s a chain of tiny enamel daisies. What made Cynnie shake her head is that it’s real gold and there’s a small diamond winking in the middle of every daisy. It’s a little extravagant, tripling the bill when I have the cashier hastily add it to my bag before Cynnie notices. But it will look perfect with her little outfits, and I want her to have something special to wear close to her heart while I’m in England.
As we walk back to my apartment, laden with our shopping bags, my trip to England is evidently on both our minds.
“You tell me why you going so far away?” Cynnie asks me as she walks along, swinging our joined hands.
“It’s on a job for Logan, baby. I’m going to interview a witness.”
“Can’t do over the phone?” She screws up her face at me.
“No, this is sensitive. I need to interview them face-to-face.”
“Youz do that a lot? Travel to meet witnesses?”
“No. I’m going this time because Logan still can’t fly.”
Cynnie nods. “He was hurt bad, wasn’t he?”
I hate even thinking about how much. “Yes. Please don’t mention it to Emmy because I don’t want to scare her, but we came very close to losing him.”
Her eyes round and her face goes solemn. “He be okay, though?”
“Yes, bumble. He’s gotten really good physical therapy and he’s going to be okay.”
As long as no one bashes him in the fucking head again. That reminds me to check in on the files of Scum, Scummier, and Scummiest LLC to see if Rick’s case notes have been updated.
“You gots lots of love for him?” she asks, squeezing my hand.
“I—” I want to open up to her, explain how much Logan, and Manny, and Mac mean to me. Fear, embarrassment, awkwardness, a hundred prickly emotions rush in to close my throat.
Cynnie grins. “Boys don’t talk about mushy stuff.”
I smile sheepishly back. “It’s hard for me.”
“Youz taught not to show your feelings, like my brothers?”
“I don’t know if I wastaughtnot to. I mean, yes, I guess I was. Not like someone sat me down and said, ‘real men don’t talk about their feelings.’ But weakness—” I shake my head. “Everyone from my Uncle Max to the Navy taught me not to show weakness. It’s just something your enemies can exploit.”
“I’z your enemy?” She asks, swinging our hands again.
“No, of course not. I’m sorry, bumble baby. I—I’ll try.” I take a deep breath and try to explain how deep my feelings for those three men run. “I do have a lot of love for Logan. He and Manny saw how lost I was. Mac, too, when he took over our unit. They showed me everything. Not just how to survive in the Navy, but how to succeed. I’m, well, you’ve seen how I am. Too focused. Too much into machines to understand people. They accepted me as I was but encouraged me to be better, too. I’m a better person when I’m around them.”
“Pretty good person already,” Cynnie says.
I catch the pensive note in her voice, but don’t understand it.
“Baby, are you having worries?”
“Not worries. Not ‘xactly.”
“Then what, baby?”
“You tellz me everything ‘bout everything? Youz don’t have any secrets from me?”
I want to say I’ve told her everything. But that wouldn’t be the truth. I’ve been more open with her than anyone other than Logan, Manny, and Mac. But I haven’t told her everything. I’m not sure I want to burden her with the ghosts I carry, but I don’t want to lie about them, either.
“I—no, baby, I still have secrets.”
