Shannon’s Reviews > Bourbon & Secrets > Status Update

“Check her right hand, Lily.” Lily looks at me, confused, and then focuses on my right hand. When I lift my fingers, I roll the clunky gray rock over to its side with the sharp purple crystals. She looks up at me with a smile. “You have it with you.” “I’ve needed a little extra courage lately. I keep it in one of my pockets.”

The things that we’re healing from, hiding from, and equally trying to forget seem to converge when I’m with him. And he feels like a net or a shield. I shouldn’t feel safe with someone who’s seen the worst of me. The same man who ordered me to leave the only place I ever wanted to call home. But I do. I feel safe. And I don’t want to let go.

While I hadn’t planned on staying for more than a month or so, I also hadn’t thought about where I was going. I should feel anxious about it, not knowing. I always know my next steps. But I’m not thinking past Fiasco; I can’t for some reason.

When I glance to my right where Faye had just been, I realize she’s gone and already halfway to the door. “Hey!” I shout. She stops, looks over her shoulder, and then turns her full body, flips me off, and walks backward toward the door while holding up my fucking phone.

“See, Ace, I never thought I’d need to explain this to grown-ass men. But you and that one over there”—I nod to Lincoln. He crosses his arms and glares at me—“should know that most women nowadays don’t lead their lives based on the expectations of men. Maybe if you realized that, then you might walk around less surprised by our choices and more aware of yours.”

The default emotion whenever I think too long about Lincoln Foxx is a combination of hate and annoyance. We both painted each other into corners. I hate that he was there that night. I hate what that night made me. I hate that he saw it, accepted it, and kept it a secret. I hate that at the core of it of all the shit people I’d come across the person I chose to hold a grudge against was probably the most honorable.

It’s the type of silence that feels predictive of a winter storm. A storm you know is coming, but it just hasn’t broken through the clouds yet.

“Most write-ups or social posts I’ve seen have assumed that your Cowboy Edition was a nod to the hardworking men in this country, but I think I just discovered the real reason behind that one,” Murray says with a small smile. If anyone was going to charm them, if it wasn’t me, it would be my sister-in-law, Laney. “Isn’t it usually a woman who ends up being behind the best things?…”

Marla’s resting bitch face is top-notch. It always had been. She gives me a side-eye, barely acknowledging me—it stings a little. I spent a lot of time at this counter growing up, and if anyone was going to hold a grudge for me not visiting, it was going to be Marla Hooch. She held grudges over shitty tips and people who forgot to turn off their phones at supper.

I don’t like being stuck in any city for too long, so subletting is just fine with me. It seems irresponsible to settle. The only place that I’ve ever considered home hasn’t been that for a little more than five years now.