When Darkness Ends (Moments in Boston #3) - Marni Mann Page 0,19

me in my seat. The bag of leftover pies was on my lap, and I lifted the corner of one of the to-go containers, picking off a piece of the crust. It was as delicious as it had been moments ago when Ashe and I shared the slice at the diner. Buttery. Flaky. Nothing like the store-bought pumpkin pie I’d been buying for the last few holidays since Gran could no longer bake.

I took one more bite and shut the lid, holding the bag close to my body. As I chewed, only one thought was in my mind.

Ashe.

He was like a rainstorm that came through the city in the middle of winter, the precipitation and thunder so untimely for that season. I’d hidden from storms my entire life, never going outside to let the water fall on me.

Tonight had caught me by such a surprise, and even though I had wanted to run many times, I hadn’t. I’d felt each drip, my hair getting soaked.

But I’d enjoyed myself.

I’d even smiled more than once.

One was even growing over my face now as I pressed my hand against the cheek he’d kissed, the spot still warm, as though his lips had just left.

Just as I was pulling my fingers away, “Ruggles Station,” was announced through the loudspeaker.

Once the train stopped and the door opened, I rose from my seat and moved across the platform and out onto the sidewalk in front.

Unless it was the very early hours of the morning, this section of Roxbury was always busy. Groups were huddled in doorways, on the benches, and in some cases, even in the middle of the street. I’d spent half my life in this neighborhood, walking back and forth to the train and the grocery store, that so many of the groups knew my face. They knew I wasn’t a prostitute or an addict trying to score. I was just a girl trying to get home after a long day. Aside from some whistling and catcalling, which happened almost every night, I was able to get to our building, unbothered.

I opened our apartment door only a few inches when I heard, “Hi, dollface,” from the living room.

I set both bags and my coffee on the counter and took the seat next to Gran on the couch. “How was your day?” I asked, kissing her cheek.

“My day?” She grinned and reached for my face. “No, baby, how was yours? Tell me all about tonight’s performance.”

My hands wrapped around the top of her arm, her scent filling me as I rested against her shoulder. I didn’t need the comfort—not tonight—but this spot certainly gave me that. I had fallen asleep in this exact position more times than I could count.

“It went great. Everyone, for the most part, made their cues, and the audience was so attentive and complimentary. Wardrobe worked extra hard to assist us with each change, and the lighting and set crews were outstanding. It went smoother than the show you had seen on opening night.”

With her hand still on me, she turned my chin, so I was gazing at her. “You look and sound happier tonight—happier than you have been in a long time.” She rubbed my cheek, and I felt her bent fingers, her pain too intense to straighten them.

Instead of commenting, I asked, “Are you hungry, Gran?”

“No, dollface.”

“Not even for something sweet?”

She continued to stare at me, her wrinkled lids hanging over her eyes. “You brought home dessert? That’s not like you.”

I went into the kitchen, lifting the bags of pies I had left on the counter, and opened each of the lids until I found the slice of peanut butter. I grabbed a spoon and brought it over to her.

“Look at how beautiful this is.” She stared at it from her lap.

“How about some tea to go with it?”

“I would love that.”

Since the microwave had died a few days ago and I still didn’t have the cash to replace it, I went into the kitchen and filled up a small saucepan with water from the sink and put it on the stove to boil. I took it off just when the bubbles began to form and filled a mug, dropping a tea bag inside. I picked up the leftover slice of peach and my coffee and joined her on the couch.

“Where did you get all of this?” she asked.

“A friend took me out to celebrate after the show.” I pointed at the bag in the kitchen. “There are more