Chapter Twenty-Five

“I’VE ATTENDED PLENTY of art exhibitions, and honestly, this kid has a stronger point of view than most adults.” Arti polished off her second mimosa as she considered the painting. “Whoever decided to host an opening during brunch hours is brilliant.”

“I’ll be sure to tell the organizer. It’s their first featuring art by queer teens rather than adults. They wanted a family-friendly vibe.” Mara snagged a champagne flute from a passing server and swapped Arti’s empty glass for the full one.

Ellie grinned at the deft maneuver. Femme women brought out Mara’s solicitous side. Rachel would be foaming at the mouth if she saw it, innocuous as it was. But a family issue had dragged her to the burbs, leaving Mara to meet Olivia on her own. The change hadn’t been unwelcome. Rachel had squashed her worst critical tendencies lately, but a face-to-face meeting might have brought them out. If Olivia put her on the defensive, Arti would make her head explode. She wasn’t used to being out-femmed or out-quipped.

Olivia studied the next painting, a vivid portrait of a young woman screaming, her exaggerated, wide-open mouth lined with all the colors of the rainbow. Ellie slipped her arms around her waist from behind and rested a chin on her shoulder. “I remember that feeling.”

“Mmm.” Olivia leaned into the contact, her body melting against Ellie’s. “So full of this new realization, but not sure how to tell anyone.”

Ellie cherished the return of their loose, easy physicality. Her conversation with Claudia and Marisol had been the nudge she needed, and once she let down her guard, Olivia did the same, as if she’d been waiting for a signal. She nuzzled Olivia’s neck and inhaled. “You smell suspiciously of cinnamon.”

“The French toast petit fours are addictive.”

Through Olivia’s jacket, a short vibration buzzed Ellie’s forearm. Olivia reached around her and fished the phone from her pocket. Zariah’s name appeared in the notification.

Jamal and Ben want to catch the paletas man before he leaves. Do you mind?

Ellie read over Oliva’s shoulder as she typed. It’s fine. Remind him he didn’t like the Spiderman face the last time.

“Spiderman wasn’t a hit?”

“It tasted—and I’m quoting here—‘too red.’”

“Huh. What does red even taste like?”

“No idea. But too much of it isn’t good, apparently.”

Zariah’s reply popped up. LOL. Will do.

“Must be officially spring if the paletas guys are pedaling around.” Ellie brushed a kiss on Olivia’s ear.

“All right, enough of the art on the walls. Let me see this piece on your arm.” Arti’s bossy request brought Olivia’s head around.

“Arti—”

“What? No one gets a tattoo this big unless they’re prepared to show it off.”

“She’s not wrong,” Mara said with a smile, shedding her leather jacket. Arti dropped her rainbow-framed reading glasses from their perch on her head. She’d spent much of the exhibit peering through them at various pieces, and now she gave her full designer’s attention to the intricate tree that sleeved Mara’s arm and twined branches across the left side of her chest, neck, and shoulder.

“Nice glasses, by the way,” Mara said.

“One for every occasion,” Olivia teased. “Ask her how many pairs she owns.”

“Ask her how many pairs she’s lost,” Arti muttered. “This tattoo makes me want to design an arm cuff to complement it. What does it mean?”

“It’s a warden tree. The Swedes and Germans considered them guardians, protecting those who lived nearby from bad luck. I read about them in a children’s book and loved the idea.”

“Weren’t warden trees green, even in winter?” Olivia asked.

Surprise ruffled Mara’s quiet features. “How do you—”

“My dad read me myths and folktales before bedtime.” Olivia touched a crisp branch cutting across Mara’s shoulder. “So why no leaves?”

“I grew up in foster care—it’s one of the reasons I went into social work—and at the group home where I stayed the longest, this huge tree dominated the front yard. I was always struck by how barren it was in winter, even though I knew by summer it’d be covered in leaves.” Mara didn’t often share the larger story behind the tattoo. Ellie was touched she showed this early trust in Olivia and Arti.

“During the hard times, I’d remember that dead-looking tree coming back, year after year. When I designed it, I wanted to represent both the warden and the promise of hope.” Mara rotated her arm, exposing the inside of her bicep. “Which is why there’s one green leaf tucked away, right here.”

“It’s a gorgeous piece,” Olivia said. “And I should warn you now that Ben will ask all about it when he sees it. He loves trees.”

“You could have brought him today.”

“Crowds aren’t his thing.” Olivia’s response dwindled as she stared over Mara’s head. “I’m sorry, weird question—where could I find a few sheets of paper?”

Mara hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “Look for the rainbow suspenders by the bar. They’ll know.”

“Thanks. Be right back.”

Ellie looked from Mara to Arti. “What was that about?”

Arti gave a “beats me” frown, then collared another server, this time for a bite-sized quiche. The three of them made small talk, but as the time stretched out, Ellie scanned the room.

“All right, I give up. Where is she?”

A strange smile curled Arti’s lips. “Over there.” She nodded toward a boy who was flicking his fingers and rocking his upper body. His stroller creaked as his stimming grew more intense. He wasn’t too far from a meltdown. Olivia spoke to his parents, and after they nodded, she crouched to the boy’s level and waved hello.

Unfazed by his lack of response, she extended her other hand, revealing a small origami bird perched on her upturned palm. He ignored it until she pinched the bird at both ends and tugged, making its wings flap. The motion captivated him. He inspected it delicately, shook it when it didn’t work for him, then held it out in a “show me” gesture. Olivia guided his fingers to each end, pulling with him before letting go. He kept tugging, the wings flapping, his mouth a perfect O of wonder. She smiled, then stood and gave something to the parents before making her way back.

Before Ellie could even ask a question, Arti clutched Olivia in a fierce hug. “You old softie.”

“I’m a little rusty. I screwed up two before remembering how.” Olivia sniffed hard and wiped a wrist across her eyes. “He’s the little brother of an artist. His sister recently came out, and the parents want to support her by staying for the whole event, but they’re not sure he’ll make it. I gave them extras. Hopefully, it buys some time.”

Ellie exchanged a look with Mara, who seemed as impressed and confused as she was. “It was extremely sweet, but I don’t understand…you’re so emotional.”

Olivia reached for her hand and laced their fingers. “Ben was six when we started eating out again. We’d bring sheets of paper so he could draw trees to pass the time. One day, a server made him a small origami bird that flapped. He loved it. The guy showed me how, and from then on, we had our routine. Sophia handled the ordering, Ben drew his trees, and I folded origami birds. Once the meal came, he’d fly the birds from branch to branch, giving us time to eat and chat a bit.”

Ellie pulled Olivia close for a soft hug. There were so many stories they had yet to share. “How did you even know there was an issue?”

“I could tell his stimming was ramping up because of all the side-eye from the crowd. Folks think they’re being subtle, but I promise you, the parents see it. It hurts to be so noticed and so shunned at the same time.”

Mara frowned, a sharp furrow slashing between her brows. “This is supposed to be an inclusive space.”

Olivia shrugged. “Queer or straight, people are uncomfortable with disability.”

“Including some who should know better.” A scowl creased Arti’s mouth.

“That was a long time ago.”

“And you’re too forgiving. Grudges should be nurtured, clutched to your chest until the last breath leaves you.”

“We’re talking about Ben now?” Ellie tugged on Olivia’s hand. “Who wasn’t supportive?”

“Some friends stepped away after the diagnosis—”

Arti rolled her eyes. “That’s one way to put it.”

“To be fair—”

“Which you are, to a fault.”

Olivia ignored the comment. “To be fair, nobody had a frame of reference for it. One day, we were the same as them—park meetups and playdates—and then suddenly, we weren’t. Ben did best with familiar spaces, so we avoided restaurants, parties, even other people’s homes, at first. We didn’t go out as a couple because he was distraught if he woke up to anyone but us. We basically dropped out of the world. Not everyone wanted to spend time with us when we came back.”

“Please, they acted like autism was contagious. Can’t let precious Austin or sweet Madison stand too close, or they might start acting ‘weird.’” Arti’s bitter tone went arctic.

Ellie shivered. She hoped never to be the focus of that ire. “What about TTC?”

“We were all in the same boat, living by a schedule, struggling to find babysitters. Made socializing hard. Honestly, being a parent to a disabled child is far more isolating than anything I experienced as a queer person.” Olivia cocked her head, the small twitch that happened when her phone went off, and she pulled it from her pocket. “It’s work. Let me step outside and take this.” Tucking it to her ear, she made her way to the front door.

“And I’m going to find the restroom.” Arti hitched her mammoth purse higher on her shoulder and sashayed through the crowd, her bright swirl of a dress dancing around her hips.

Ellie lifted an eyebrow at Mara. “I think that was her not-so-subtle way of giving us space to dish on Olivia.”

“Does Arti have a subtle way?” Mara grinned, then tipped her glass in Olivia’s direction. “And there’s not much dish-worthy, especially after her bird move.”

“I don’t know what impresses me more—that she noticed him escalating, or that she found a way to help which involved freaking origami.”

“It was pretty nifty. Seriously, she’s a great person. And she and Arti together are a trip—a middle-aged angel and devil perched on your shoulders.” One of Mara’s clients came up and whispered in her ear, and she excused herself.

Ellie drifted to a nearby sculpture, using it as cover while she observed Olivia through the window. She paced up and down the sidewalk, gesturing with her free hand.

“I heard it went well with Alice.” Arti’s voice hovered by her ear.

“Jesus! I thought you went—”

“Long line. Decided to wait.”

The affected casualness in Arti’s expression made Ellie suspicious. “Yeah, it seemed like a good visit. She’s quiet though. Even more than Olivia told me.”

“Seriously. As a kid, I didn’t know that kind of silence was possible. I mean, if my mom stopped talking, I’d probably call 911. Alice is a cakewalk, though, compared to Adrianna. You got off the hook with her last-minute trip to Italy.”

“It’s too bad her sister broke her hip, but I can’t lie, a reprieve is nice. Meeting Olivia’s mother is one thing. Meeting Olivia’s mother-in-law is…”

“Next-level stuff, for sure.”

“How is Adrianna, really?” Ellie still didn’t know where Arti was headed, but if she was in a sharing mood, it paid to take advantage.

“She’s sharp as fuck and stealthy about it—like an assassin but with questions. The two of you are chatting along, then suddenly, you’re revealing details you would never expect.”

“Now I’m even more relieved.”

“It’ll be worth it.” Arti watched Olivia through the window. She was still on the phone, leaning on a bike rack as she hunched against the wind. “Because she’s amazing.”

“She absolutely is.”

Now Arti nodded at the boy, still happily playing with his bird. “Remember this the next time she clams up. She’s always been more of a show-than-tell woman.”

Ellie’s pulse quickened.

“Yes, I heard about the ‘I love you’ situation.”

Ellie had tucked that moment away, resolving to be patient, and here was Arti, of all people, resurrecting it. A flush stung her neck. She bit her lip to stop it flattening into a scowl.

Arti surprised her with a smile. “I knew you had a temper in there. Don’t be mad. I forced it out of her. Forty years of reading Olivia, I can tell when she’s upset.” She sketched an apologetic wave, her thick gold ring winking in the light. “It sucks to put that out there and get crickets back, but it might help to know I’ve had this exact conversation before.”

Intense curiosity muffled Ellie’s defensiveness. “Sophia?”

“For most people, the first ‘I love you’ is a way of saying you matter to me, I’m serious about this, there might be more for us down the road. It’s an indication, if you will.”

“Okay.” The sentiment didn’t encompass the emotion roiling her heart, but with a story hovering on Arti’s lips, she didn’t quibble.

“Olivia doesn’t work in ‘thinks’ or ‘mights.’ Those three words have a special power for her, almost like a marriage proposal. It took her forever to say it to Sophia, but after she did, she said it all the time. And remember, she didn’t expect to ever say it again for the first time.”

Irritation bled away, and Ellie slumped. With her fixation on the words Olivia hadn’t said, she’d lost sight of how tied up they must be in memories of Sophia.

“How’s the sex?”

The blunt question knocked her sideways. She studied Arti’s face for a hint of a trap.

“Fine, don’t tell me.”

“Amazing. Intense.” The words rushed out. She was desperate to keep the thread going.

“You’re okay, then. She isn’t truly intimate unless she feels strongly about a person. Sophia told me once when Olivia needed to talk, she poured her energy into the sex, trying to say physically what she couldn’t emotionally.”

“So this silence isn’t new?”

“God, no. Olivia’s reticence goes back longer than you’ve been alive. Her whole world can be summed up in six words—feels so much, says so little. Once you’re in, you’re in, but getting in takes patience.”

“Every time I think I’m in, something else proves I’m not.”

“You’re getting there. Just look at the house. I’ve pestered her to get rid of stuff for a year, but nothing changed until you came along.” Twirling the golden rope of her necklace around her hand, Arti scanned the crowd. The unease in her posture didn’t match her typical confidence.

“Why are you telling me this if it makes you so uncomfortable?”

“I generally steer clear Olivia’s love life—it’s one of the reasons we’re still friends. Consider this my rare moment of playing Aphrodite.” The necklace finished its loop around her fingers, encasing them, and she made a fist. “But keep in mind, if you anger the Greek gods, they will have their revenge.”

“What do you mean?” The coiled necklace reminded Ellie uncomfortably of brass knuckles.

“We’re getting along, which is great, but if you use what I’ve told you to hurt Olivia, I’ll hit you with a mati so hard you’ll spend the rest of your days regretting it.” Arti made a sharp gesture with her other hand, as if throwing something away in disgust.

The word mati meant nothing to Ellie, but she knew the threat of a curse when she heard one. With that, Arti winked and strode toward the bar.