This Could Be Us (Skyland, #2)(43)

As soon as I lower the wall holding them back, the tears fall, burning my cheeks and surprising a sob from me. I cup my mouth, afraid of what else will come out. A primal scream of frustration? A wail? I flush the toilet a few times to camouflage my sniffles and hiccups.

“Shit,” I mutter, assessing my splotchy cheeks and red nose in the mirror. Like sharp-eyed Hendrix needs physical clues to my despair. Turning on the cold water, I splash my face and flush my eyes, trying to clear the telltale signs of breakdown. I probably reek of crisis, and Hendrix will start digging for answers right away.

If she does, what will I say? That I think I’m going to lose the house that means so much to me? The one I dedicated years to renovating and decorating and making a haven for my family? The one I thought I’d see my grandchildren running the halls of?

“It’s just a roof and some walls,” I remind myself. “You can find another roof and cheaper walls if it comes to that.”

I stride back up the hall, smile pinned in place. “That drink hit the spot, but we need to eat. Want me to see what I can whip up? A frittata?”

“Or we could order. Give you the night off. You choose.” Hendrix studies her phone. “Yas says she and Josiah are meeting with their adoption counselor tonight. They’re still trying to decide if maybe fostering is a better option, I think.”

“Okay. So it’s just you and me, huh?” I sit beside her on the couch and reach for my phone, frowning at the email notification. Same old pattern. The collectors call and then send an email saying We called and you still owe us money, bitch. I hit the notification to clear it from my screen without reading too closely. The email opens up and I do a double take. It’s a notification from my bank that I’ve received ten thousand dollars from…

“Hen,” I whisper. “What did you do?”

“Same thing you’d do for me if I was about to lose my house and you had the money.” She looks up from her phone, the regal lines of her face softening. “I spent that in bags and shoes last month, Sol. I’m doing really well. Ain’t no way I’m standing by and watching you and your girls get put out when I could help.”

“I—I can’t accept this.” I click my banking app, my mind spinning, hoping I can figure out how to reject a transfer. She snatches my phone and shoves it between the couch cushions.

“You gonna.” She huffs a short laugh. “’Cause I ain’t taking it back and you ain’t sending it back. Girl, pay your mortgage and whatever else that can help with.”

The tears I thought I’d gotten out of my system in secret make a public appearance, falling heedlessly. “You and Yasmen are the best friends I’ve ever had. We wouldn’t have made it the last few months without you.”

Hendrix circles an arm around my shoulders and tilts her head to press against mine. “We believe in you, Sol. If there’s anybody on the face of this earth who can make something out of nothing, it’s you. You just need a little time to make your something.”

“Thank you.” My voice breaks and I give up on that steel backbone, abandon that tough shell, and cry. Hendrix doesn’t shhh me or spout platitudes. She lets my tears flow until there is nothing left.

“Love you, Hen,” I say, linking our fingers on my knee.

“Love you too.” She grins at me, the usual teasing glint restored to her eyes. “Now did you say frittata?”

An hour later, we’re seated in her kitchen nook, enjoying the last crumbs of our meal, when my phone lights up with a text from Lupe.

“Let me see what this girl wants,” I mumble into my sangria. “She and Inez better not be fighting. Can’t leave them alone for one night.”

Hendrix chuckles and licks her fork clean. “Thank her for lending you to me for dinner.”

I smile and open the text message.


Lupe: Mom! Have you checked your last post? It’s blowing up.




Me: Which one?




Lupe: The vinaigrette! Like… really blowing up.



“Lupe says my last post is doing well.” I navigate over to my account, and a gasp escapes me. “Oh, my God.”

“What is it?” Hendrix leans over to check my phone with me. “Does that say two million views?”

“Yeah.” I laugh, covering my wide smile with my hand. “It does.”

“Get it going.” Hendrix nudges me, grinning and doing a shoulder bounce. “I told you it was only a matter of time.”





CHAPTER FOURTEEN





JUDAH


Can we have pizza when we’re done?” Adam asks.

I consider his request while we cross the parking lot to the Cut, the barbershop in Castleberry Hill where we’ve been going for years. A stack of paperwork I didn’t get to this week in the office waits, so it has crept into my weekend. I’ll have to get right on it as soon as we get home, but I think I can spare the time for pizza. After I drop them off at Tremaine’s, it’ll just be me, so I’ll be able to focus.

“Sure,” I tell him. “Guido’s on the square sound good?”

He nods, but Aaron tugs my sleeve and starts scrolling on the communication device hanging around his neck. It’s more portable than his old one, not much bigger than a phone. He pulls up a picture of Hops, his favorite game shop. There’s a new special-edition Megaminx twelve-sided cube he’s been asking for, and Hops usually carries all the toys and games he prefers, even the obscure ones I have trouble finding online. His teacher mentioned he got stuck a few times this week, perseverating and mentioning the cube repeatedly. It interfered with his work some, but she didn’t have much trouble redirecting him.