Blood Brothers

“Coffee.” Qui

“They really are. Qui

“Need to talk to you, too. You go first.”

“I was going to leave this morning.”

Qui

“And I was going to do my best to get out before you came back, and talked me out of it. I’m sorry.”

“Okay. It’s okay.” Qui

“Oddly enough, I do.”

“Why aren’t you gone?”

“Let me backtrack.” While she finished fussing with the flowers, Layla related the telephone conversation she’d had with her boss.

“I’m sorry. It’s so unfair. I don’t mean your boss is unfair. She’s got a business to run. But that this whole thing is unfair.” Qui

“That’s not what I’m looking for. I don’t want you to loan me money, or to carry my share of the expenses. If I stay, it’s because I’ve chosen to stay.” Layla looked at the flowers, thought of what Fox had said. “I think, until today, I didn’t accept that, or want to accept it. Easier to think I’d been driven to come here, and that I was being pressured to stay. I wanted to go because I didn’t want any of this to be happening. But it is. So I’m staying because I’ve decided to stay. I’ll just have to figure out the practicalities.”

“I’ve got a couple of ideas on that, maybe just a thumb in the dike. Let me think about them. The flowers were a nice idea. Cheer up a bad news day.”

“Not my idea. Fox gave them to me when I ran into him outside the florist. I cut loose on him.” Layla shrugged, then gathered up the bits of stems she’d cut off, the florist wrappings. “He’s basically, ‘How are you doing,’ and I’m ‘How am I doing? I’ll tell you how I’m doing.’” She tossed the leavings in the trash, then leaned back and laughed. “God, I just blasted him. So he gives me the flowers he’d just bought, thrust them at me, really, and gave me a short, pithy lecture. I guess I deserved it.”

“Hmm.” Qui

“Better?” Layla walked into the little dining room to arrange a trio of flowers on the old, drop-leaf table they’d picked up at the flea market. “I feel more resolved. I don’t know if that’s better.”

“I’ve got something to keep you busy.”

“Thank God. I’m used to working, and all this time on my hands makes me bitchy.”

“Come with me. Don’t leave all the flowers; you should have some of them in your room.”

“I thought they’d be for the house. He didn’t buy them for me or-”

“He gave them to you. Take some of them up. You made me take the tulips up to mine.” To solve the matter, Qui

“I’ll get it.” Layla poured one of the mugs for Qui

“Books.”

“We already have the books from the library.”

“Now we have some from Estelle Hawkins’s personal store. Some of them are journals. I haven’t really scratched the surface yet,” Qui

“But Mrs. Hawkins must have read them before, shown them to Cal.”

“Right, and right. They’ve all been read, studied, pondered over. But not by us, Layla. Fresh eyes, different angle.” She detoured to Layla’s room to set the flowers down, then took the coffee mug on her way to the office. “And I’ve already got the first question on my notes: Where are the others?”

“Other journals?”

“A

“If she did write others, they might have been lost or destroyed.”

“Let’s hope not.” Qui

CAL COULDN’T REASONABLY BREAK AWAY FROM the center until after seven. Even then he felt guilty leaving his father to handle the rest of the night. He’d called Qui

She’d have to settle for pizza, he thought as he carried the takeout boxes up the steps. He hadn’t had the time or inclination to figure out what her lifestyle-change option might be.

As he knocked, the wind whistled across the back of his neck, had him glancing uneasily behind him. Something coming, he thought. Something’s in the wind.

Fox answered the door. “Thank God, pizza and a testosterone carrier. I’m outnumbered here, buddy.”

“Where’s the estrogen?”

“Up. Buried in books and notes. Charts. Layla makes charts. I made the mistake of telling them I had a dry-wipe board down at the office. They made me go get it, haul it in here, haul it upstairs.” The minute Cal set the pizza down on the kitchen counter, Fox shoved up the lid and took out a slice. “There’s been talk of index cards. Colored index cards. Don’t leave me here alone again.”

Cal grunted, opened the fridge, and found, as he’d hoped and dreamed, Fox had stocked beer. “Maybe we were never organized enough, so we missed some detail. Maybe-”

He broke off as Qui

She got down plates, passed one to Fox, who was already halfway through with his first slice. Then she smiled that smile at Cal. “Got anything else for me?”

He leaned right in, laid his mouth on hers. “Got that.”

“Coincidentally, exactly what I wanted. So how about some more.” She got a fistful of his shirt and tugged him down for another, longer kiss.

“You guys want me to leave? Can I take the pizza with me?”

“As a matter of fact,” Cal began.

“Now, now.” Qui

“How come I can’t say hello to Mommy?” Fox complained as Qui

“Because then I’d have to beat you unconscious.”

“As if.” Amused, Fox grabbed the pizza boxes and started after Qui

Shortly after they were seated, drinks, plates, napkins, pizza passed around, Layla came in with a large bowl and a stack of smaller ones. “I put this together earlier. I wasn’t sure what you might bring,” she said to Cal.

“You made salad?” Qui

“My specialty. Chop, shred, mix. No cooking.”

“Now, I’m forced to be good.” Qui

“Yeah, ask the ladies here how to make tallow candles or black raspberry preserves,” Fox suggested. “They’ve got it down.”

“So, some of the information contained in the books we’re going through may not currently apply to our situation.” Qui