Take Two, Birdie Maxwell by Allison Winn Scotch

Author:Allison Winn Scotch [Scotch, Allison Winn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2024-03-05T00:00:00+00:00

24

BIRDIE

Birdie woke at sunrise in the middle of a dream, her phone vibrating like it was looking for a fight. Cell service had come back up last night once darkness had set in, but by then, any nearby repair shop was closed, and Elliot left three messages on different auto shop voicemails before giving up. Now she patted down the sheets until she found her phone and cracked a crusty eye to check the screen: 6:53 a.m. Too early.

Five missed calls from Imani.

It was never good news when there were five missed calls from Imani.

In the bunk bed above her, Elliot shifted in his sleep, and the springs in the twenty-year-old mattress groaned. She’d fallen asleep before him last night, if you could call what she did sleep. Elliot had tried to forge a truce by making dinner. Mona had stocked the cabinets with some basics for her weekend trips, so he pulled out an ancient-looking stockpot, croaked on the faucet in the sink, and jump-started the pilot light on the stove. He dumped in a box of penne and popped open a jar of Ragù. Birdie thought of Ian, and how he used to cook for her when she needed not just nutrition but nourishment. She should have called him when she knew it was over after Elliot’s mom’s funeral. She should have told him something rather than telling him nothing. He’d taken care of her, and she’d been selfish and squandered that, and when she met Kai, she’d convinced herself that she didn’t need taking care of, which was an easy excuse for knowing that she was compromising herself. But everyone needed taking care of from time to time, and Ian had already understood that when Birdie still had so much left to learn. Carter had taught her about kindness and generosity in his own way, but theirs was never a grand love story. So yes, she realized as Elliot dumped cold sauce on the pasta, she should have dialed up Ian and filled the silence, even if what she’d had to say was difficult and wouldn’t have been what he wanted to hear.

Elliot slid a bowl over the table, and she grunted a thank-you, but neither of them spoke, each of them waiting for the other to admit his or her wrongdoing. Birdie knew she still had some growing to do, but not now, not with Elliot.

At bedtime, which was essentially after dinner because there was nothing else to keep her occupied, Birdie slipped into the tiny bathroom and peeled off her clothes, excruciatingly aware that she was forcibly trying to stop herself from thinking of Elliot and how, if she weren’t furious with him, she wouldn’t have minded if he peeled off her clothes.

She met her eyes in the mirror. NO. NONONONONONO.

She was mad at him, she was mad at him. She studied her reflection, the hint of fine lines that she’d have to have blasted off, the purple circles under her eyes that there wasn’t much to do about now, and tried to remind herself why they had started fighting in the first place.

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