“Oh, my God,” she said, helping herself to more peanuts from the second jar they’d opened. “You were so intense about it, like I think it’s very important that you meet my grandmother, so I insisted on wearing my very best dress.”
“Let me guess, it was pink. To match the famous settee.”
“Well, obviously,” she said. “I remember following you into your apartment, and we had to take off our shoes, and... everything was just so beautiful.”
Thomas had learned from an early age to take his shoes off at the front door because his grandmother’s religion included a belief that “clean enough to eat off the floor” was not just an expression. She also had a strict doctrine that everything belonged in its place; that organization created efficiency—which allowed more time for creative endeavors. “Grandma ran a very tight ship.”
“She was in the kitchen,” Tash continued. “Somehow cooking something that smelled delicious, while every counter—and the sink—was impossibly clean.”
“Clean while you cook, Natasha!” Thomas still followed that rule because Grandma had been right. The efficiency gave him more time to put his feet up and read a good book. Gram had used her spare time to get a law degree, and then pass the bar.
Tash grinned. “I still hear her saying that, every time I’m in a kitchen. And I always regret it when I don’t listen.”
“She was the smartest person I ever met,” Thomas said.
“Which is why you brought me there,” Tasha said. “To meet her. I remember you introducing us, and it felt so formal. Grandma, this is Natasha Francisco. She’s Ms. Summerton’s new neighbor, the girl I told you about? Tasha, this is my grandmother, Mrs. King. You know, for years, I thought queens were addressed as Mrs. King. It made sense at the time.”
Thomas laughed. “Don’t make that mistake with Ted’s mom.”
“Yeah, believe me, I won’t,” she said. “But what was I, six...? Five...? And already brainwashed by the patriarchy into thinking that a queen should be addressed by her husband’s name. I mean, sort of, right?”
“Maybe that came from playing chess. If you lose the king, you lose the game.” When Tash had come to live with her uncle, Alan had had little-to-no experience with young children, and had taught her games like chess and all kinds of weird varieties of poker. Being Tasha, however, she ate it up. She could still rule the poker table at a game of Night Baseball in the Rain.
“In chess, the queen kicks ass to protect the incredibly fragile and impotent king,” she countered. “Chess was the beginning of my feminist enlightenment.”
“Chess and proximity to Mia,” Thomas said.
“And your grandmother,” Tasha told him. “You know, I’m pretty sure you introduced me to her so I’d have a safe place to run, if things went south with Uncle Alan.”
“I didn’t know him very well back then,” he said. “And you just seemed so vulnerable. I mean, you were definitely a tough little kid, but...”
“It wasn’t until I was older that I realized what you did,” she said. “That day. You gave me one of your famous Plan Bs.”
Huh. She was right. He had.
“I guess I figured it couldn’t hurt,” he said. “And then, after your mom got out of rehab, and you went back to live with her...” Tasha’s mother had opted for rehab in the face of a DUI charge. But she hadn’t truly wanted to be there, so when she came out, she got messy again, fast. Knowing that Tasha could run to his grandmother for help made him sleep easier at night. “Everyone needs a Plan B.”
Right now, my Plan B is Ted.
Tasha didn’t say it aloud because Thomas looked exhausted. He hadn’t slept since before they’d boarded the plane.
So instead she said, “It makes more sense for me to sleep on the couch. I’m shorter, I take up less room. Why don’t you go into the—”
Thomas cut her off. “I need to be between you and the door.”
“No one’s getting through that thing,” she argued, but he was already starting to make no-noises, so she surrendered. “Okay. Whatever. You win.” He needed to sleep. ASAP. Not argue with her. Again. “I’ll get you blankets and pillows.” She stood up. “Hey, speaking of Plan B, what’s our Plan A? If you didn’t know about this bomb shelter, then Uncle Alan doesn’t know about it either, and God only knows where Ted is.” Please, let it be somewhere safe. “It’s gonna be hard