Page 16

Bella

I wasn’t just being nice when I complimented Sophia, as she’s once again insisting I call her instead of Mrs. Steele.

She makes sandwiches that she could sell for lots of money if she were so inclined.

And the bread she uses is to die for… it’s a sort of crustless panini bread and so soft it literally melts in my mouth.

I wolfed down two tuna and avocado ones, and started on an eye-wateringly good cheese and walnut next, before I had to concede I’ll need a little break first.

The sparkling water she laid out for us scratches my throat as I wash the sandwiches down, but in a good way.

“Got any beer?” Blade asks on his way to the fridge.

“I don’t think so,” his mom says, casting me a glance that plainly says she doesn’t want any alcohol around me.

The look makes me instantly remember late nights in this kitchen, alone with Blade, looking for liquor we could drink to make our night even funner. This was before I developed a taste for heroin, but not by much. She’s right not to trust me. But I mean to earn her trust again. And everyone else’s.

“So, how did you like living on the east coast, Isabella?” she asks, while Blade is rummaging through the fridge.

I take another sip of my water before answering. Trying to get my mind straight and decide how much she needs to know. But that’s useless. She will need to know everything eventually. And with her nation-wide connections, maybe she already does. Or Blade told her.

“I got off to a rough start and the first few years weren’t that great,” I tell her. “But then I found my feet.”

“Henry tells me you’re a very accomplished tattoo artist now,” she says.

It’s always such a surprise hearing someone call Blade by his given name, but at the same time, Henry suits him very well. So polished and serious. Just like him. Maybe I should start using it more.

“I do OK. Hopefully that will continue here too.”

“You can have clients at the apartment, I don’t mind,” Sophia says. “And maybe you can give me a tattoo too.”

I was taking another sip of water and swallowed the scratchy liquid way too fast. It takes me a few seconds to be able to breathe again.

“Just a small one,” Sophia says and laughs. “I’ve always wondered what all the fuss was about.”

“Umm, sure, I’d love to.”

She continues smiling. But I can tell she has things to say to me, questions to ask. She’s wondering if I will break her son’s heart again and I don’t blame her for it. The answer is no. A loud, screaming no. I hope she does ask so I can tell her.

Blade is still busy in the kitchen proper, leaving us alone in the dining nook, probably waiting for his mom to ask the questions too.

“How is your family?” she asks instead. “I heard your father passed. I’m sorry about that.”

I shrug. “Me too. But he was more or less done with me long before that.”

“You haven’t had it easy, that’s for sure.” Her eyes show genuine concern. I have a feeling like maybe she wants to hug me. But she doesn’t and then Blade comes back and the spell is broken.

“You can talk to me any time you want to,” Sophia says. “About anything. I’m here.”

“You mean the… the Ghost stuff?” I ask, my voice cracking.

Blade looks up from his phone, noticing it too.

Sophia nods. “Or about your family.”

My thoughts are screaming at each other in my head. I’ve done therapy, but all of it was very patchy and I don’t think I ever really talked anything through with anyone. I don’t need to. I have my art. And I have Blade now. And I’m back home. I don’t need anything more than that.

“Sure,” I say instead of any of that.

Blade comes over and lays his arm around my shoulders. “Thanks for dinner, Mom, but I think Bella wants to get settled in now.”

His mom stands up, nodding. “Yes, of course. I’ve laid out some clean towels and made the bed. Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Thank you, Sophia, for opening your home to me,” I say as I stand up too, glad for Blade’s arm around my shoulders. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” she says. “For a long time. So I’m glad you asked, Henry.”

He nods, not seeming to grasp the full depth of her words. Not sure I do either. But she’s definitely saying more than she’s actually saying. I think she really wants to help me. And I don’t know if I’m happy about that or just scared.

Because I’m not sure I’m strong enough to face my ghosts.

Any of them. I’m afraid if I try, I’ll just disintegrate again.

And that would ruin everything all over again.

So, no I don’t think I’ll be talking to her about any of that.

Why risk it? Best to just focus on what I can fix.

My past not being one of those things. My future, maybe.