Page 1

Part 1

Menage a Passions

Chapter 1

Rebecca

Rebecca Pruitt had made plenty of sacrifices for her unconventional relationship, but that day marked the biggest one of all.

“You really don’t have to be here, love.” Her girlfriend leaned against the airport bar, albeit not the one where they met five years ago. Jane had lost her jacket somewhere between her car and the pre-TSA bar, a harbinger ofit’s too damn hotsince Jane rarely bared her arms to the world outside of bedtime. Even Becca, in her office-appropriate summer dress, continuously pulled her flat, straightened hair back into a clasp to keep it off her sweaty neck. The air conditioner blasted in the airport, but the large windows let in so much natural light that it felt like a sauna.Or Hong Kong in the summer, for that matter.

But they weren’t in Hong Kong, Jane’s place of birth. They were in New England, where they slowly watched the Arrivals tick by on the large screen right outside the bar. Jane hadinsisted on waiting in there because she was in desperate desire of a cocktail. Becca preferred a soda at that time of day but had no doubt her alcohol intake might go up in the next few weeks.

“You need all the help you can get,” Becca said, fidgeting with her commitment ring on her left hand. Jane had a matching one, as well as the classic wedding band that she had taken to wearing again after remarrying their third, Caitlyn. Becca did not feel left out. She preferred as little jewelry on her hands as possible. “Besides, I’d rather people-watch at the airport than sit around the office while Caitlyn moans into the phone because the HVAC is still on the fritz.”

“Do not remind me. You’d think either ThomasorCole would get their arses on trying to retain their bloody tenants that are left in that building, but ha! Last I heard, Adrienne was in Boca with that bottled-blond tart she parties with, and Ethan… oh, what do men even do these days? Especially that one?”

Becca didn’t miss a beat. “He’s letting the HVAC go to shit so he can cultivate a new mushroom crop.”

“Bloody right about that. Did he make you look at his chanterelles too? If that man ever has a baby, it’s being namedChanterelle.Poor squid.”

Becca laughed while stirring her compostable straw around the ice and watered-down Pepsi. “As I said, I’d rather be here witnessing your funeral march.”

“Myfuneral march? You’re the homeless one as of today.”

“I am not homeless.” Becca sniffed. “I am roomless.” She nudged her girlfriend. “Hope you like me, because I’ve already moved into your room.”

“I don’t mind you sleeping naked in my bed, love, but did you have to take over my closet as well?”

“Caitlyn’s was already stuffed. She has twice as many clothes as you.”

“Of course she does…”

An announcement from the gate across the walkway begged a passenger with an indiscernible name topleaseboard. Becca had been listening to it for the past twenty minutes, and she had a feeling that the man would be missing his flight. She always wondered what led to those situations. Missed connection? Slept in late? As someone who had flown all over the country (and now the world) she had never intentionally missed a flight. And the only time Becca missed a connecting flight during her Year of What-the-Fuck was when her connection in Atlanta ended up being a two-hour affair instead of thirty minutes. Something she rarely had to worry about now with a private jet in the company’s arsenal.

Yet it wasn’t anybody’s private jet flying in from Hong Kong. Jane’s relation was flying commercial, albeit First Class, of course.

“What are we doing for dinner?” Becca asked her distracted girlfriend. “Are we going out or eating in? Am I expected to cook something?”

“Well,I’mnot cooking anything.” Jane scoffed. “Cait said something about bringing dinner home when she got off work. I doubt our guest wants to head out after a long day of traveling. I’ll be shocked if she doesn’t pass out as soon as we get home.”

They found out soon enough. Jane’s phone buzzed with a text from the commercial airliner that announced her tracked flight would arrive soon. Since the traveler in question was a minor and Jane was the designated guardian, she was required to pick up a guest pass and head back behind security at the designated time. Becca was staying behind at the bar until Jane texted her they were heading to Arrivals.

And that text had been Jane’s cue. She squared up the bar tab since Becca didn’t want anything else to eat or drink. Once Jane was gone, Becca popped in her earbuds and listened to her mostrecent favorite true crime podcast – all while people went on about their traveling lives.

Just as she was getting to the latest twist in this bucolically bloody saga, Jane texted that she was about to be there. Becca texted back that she would meet them in a proper place, not a bar.Like you don’t know how it works, Jane.Already, Becca’s partner was forgetting her new role in this household.

She heard the feverish Cantonese long before she saw the two short people meandering through the crowds. A girl the same height as Jane pulled a rolling suitcase behind her and fixed the strap of her colorful backpack while Jane pushed another large bag before her. Becca couldn’t help but notice that while one bag was a standard acquisition from any Hong Kong travel store, the other was a limited edition Hello Kitty designer bag that probably cost at least a thousand dollars. Exactly what Becca expected, especially when juxtapositioned with a fifteen-year-old straddling the line between “kidlike” and “young adult.”

“We survived,” Jane said, switching from Cantonese to her impeccable Queen’s English. “Some of us better than others.” She momentarily put her hand on her niece’s shoulder before reminding the world of who she was. “Cece, you remember Becca, right? She’s been holding down the fortress while I fetched you.”

Cecelia Lam, Jane’s niece through her older sister, rubbed something out of her eye before groggily replying, “Hi,” in English.

“And Becca, this is the rousing and inspiring Cecelia, my sister’s spoiled get who is living with us for the foreseeable future while she tackles American high school.”

Becca forced a smile for both of their sakes. “Why don’t we head home, huh? Do you need anything before we go, Cece?”

The teenager shook her head before yawning.She needs a nap, I think.Luckily for Cece, with traffic, it was a forty-five-minute drive home in one of the smoothest cars Jane had ever purchased for herself.