“Your nose is flaring and you’re waving scissors around like a madwoman because a guy bought his girlfriend flowers for forgetting their anniversary. Are you really upset about that or does it have something to do with today’s date? Seeing as how it would’ve been your—”
“Seven-year anniversary?” She chopped up two roses into tiny pieces. “Oh? Is that today? I hardly noticed.”
“Mari, back away from the scissors.”
She looked up at me, and then down at the roses. “Oh no, am I having one of those mental breakdown moments?” she asked as I walked over and slowly removed the scissors from her grip.
“No, you’re having one of those human moments. It’s fine, really. You’re allowed to be angry and sad for as long as you need to. Remember? Maktub. It just becomes an issue when we start destroying our own things over asshole men, especially flowers.”
“Ugh, you’re right, I’m sorry.” She groaned, placing her head in the palms of her hands. “Why do I still care? It’s been years.”
“Time doesn’t just shut off your feelings, Mari. It’s fine, but it’s also fine that I booked you and me a date for tonight.”
“Seriously?”
I nodded. “It involves margaritas and tacos.”
She perked up a bit. “And queso dip?”
“Oh yeah. All the queso dip.”
She stood up and wrapped me in a tight hug. “Thank you, Pea, for always being there for me even when I don’t say I need you.”
“Always, Pod. Let me go grab a broom to clean up your anger management mess.” I hurried into the back room and heard the bell ring at the front of the store, announcing a customer’s arrival.
“Hi, uh, I’m looking for Lucille?” a deep voice said, making my ears perk up.
“Oh, she just went in the back,” Mari replied. “She’ll be out in a—”
I hurried out to the front of the shop and stood there, staring at Graham. He looked different without his suit and tie, but still, somewhat the same. He wore dark blue jeans and a black T-shirt that hugged his body, and that same cold stare lived in his eyes.
“Hi,” I said breathlessly, crossing my arms and walking farther into the room. “How can I help you?”
&nbs
p; He was fidgeting with his hands, and whenever we made eye contact, he looked away. “I was just wondering, have you seen Jane lately?” He cringed a bit and cleared his throat. “I mean, Lyric. I mean, your sister. Have you seen your sister lately?”
“You’re Graham Cracker?” Mari said, standing up from her chair.
“Graham,” he said sternly. “My name is Graham.”
“I haven’t seen her since the funeral,” I told him.
He nodded, a spark of disappointment making his shoulders round forward. “All right, well, if you do…” He sighed. “Never mind.” He turned to leave, and I called after him.
“Is everything okay? With Lyric?” I paused. “Jane.” My chest tightened as the worst possibilities shot through my mind. “Is she okay? Is it the baby? Is everything all right?”
“Yes and no. She delivered the baby almost two months ago, a girl. She was premature and has been at St. Joseph’s ever since.”
“Oh my gosh,” Mari muttered, placing her hand over her heart. “Are they doing better?”
“We…” He started to answer, but the way his words faded showed his doubt, the same way his heavy eyes displayed his fears. “That’s not why I’m here. I’m here because Jane is missing.”
“Huh?” My mind was racing with all the information he was giving me. “Missing?”
“She left yesterday around twelve in the afternoon, and I haven’t heard from her since. She was fired from her job, and I don’t know where she is or if she’s okay. I just thought perhaps you’d heard from her.”
“I haven’t.” I turned to Mari. “Have you heard from Lyric?”