Honey Girl(85)

“Talk about monsters?”

“Be honest,” she says, and Yuki’s teeth clack together. “How you can be vulnerable to so many people. I’m not quite used to it yet.”

Yuki mirrors Grace and takes a step forward, too. She waves her phone. “Is that what this was? You being honest and vulnerable? You said a lot of things.”

Grace nods. She bites her tongue hard, but not enough to bleed.

“Was it true?” Yuki presses. “That you’re sorry for leaving me? That you’re looking for teaching jobs in New York?” She crosses her arms, glaring. “That you—” Her voice gets stuck.

Honesty, Grace thinks, is jumping into the blue-green sea. It is letting the salt burn your lungs. It is about reaching out at the bottom of the sea and saying, I heard you singing. I heard the song you sang for me. Stay, please, with me.

“That I love you?” she finishes. “It was all true. I was scared and angry and trying so hard to be the perfect everything. I’m learning to deal with all of that, but yes, I love you. That’s not something I have to work through.”

Yuki lets out a slow, trembling breath. “I didn’t understand exactly what you were going through. I didn’t understand that it would make you leave,” she says. “I just wanted you to be with me. I wanted you to see that maybe I could be part of your perfect plan. I would have tried to live up to the great Grace Porter for the rest of my fucking life. Because,” she says softly, “that’s what you do when you’re upside down in love with someone.”

Grace laughs. One of the hollow, aching spaces inside her starts to fill. She shoves her hands in her suit pockets. “And what about now?” she asks. “Are you still upside down in love with the great Grace Porter?”

“Our friends coordinated this whole scheme of getting me down here,” Yuki says. “You think I’d let them do all that for a girl I don’t love?” She ducks her head and wipes her eyes. “Grace Porter,” she murmurs, “why did you leave me behind?”

Grace looks at the girl in front of her. “Remember how you asked me what best really meant to me? What does best mean anyway, if I’m not happy? What is best if the people I care about come second? I realized my idea of best left no space for anything that didn’t tear me apart in the process. It barely left space for me. I didn’t know how to deal with that, how to reckon with that truth, that revelation, so I left. I left you behind, and I’m—fuck, Yuki. I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Yuki says, looking shaken by Grace’s openness. “I never meant to put more pressure on you. I shouldn’t have expected you to have all the answers, you know? God, nobody does. I certainly don’t. I just wanted to be one of your answers. One of the things you would fight for, too.”

She stares Grace down, her voice going fierce. “I’m still so angry with you, but if we do this, if we keep doing this, you don’t get to disappear on me again. We talk and we fight and we stay. We said in good times and bad, and I don’t know about you, but I have been having a bad time these last few months. Would not recommend.”

Grace lets out a real laugh now. Her vision is blurred. “Would not recommend,” she agrees. “Good times and bad,” she repeats, “I’ll be here. You asked me, you asked all your listeners, and I’m a few months late, but I’m here. I’m listening. Lonely creature to lonely creature. Now, I’m asking you,” Grace says. It hurts. She keeps going. “I’m asking you.”

Yuki nods. She looks past Grace at the big tent filled with carefree people and sun-gold lights. They reflect in her eyes.

“Okay,” Yuki says. “Ask me.” It sounds like an echo.

There is a siren singing Grace a song. It must have looked into the very core of her to know which song to sing. It is a sad song, because sometimes the world is sad. It is a hopeful song, because sometimes the world is hopeful.

“Ask me.”

Grace asks.

Yuki catches the words in her mouth, and she tastes citrus-sweet. Yuki kisses her, and Grace is lit up from the inside, like the sun has been buried within her all along. She is favored, or maybe the gold lights from the wedding tent illuminate what she’s been searching for.

Grace asks. She does not hesitate. The universe waits for her; the girl in front of her waits for her.

“Grace Porter,” Yuki says, when all the guests have gone, and the house is quiet with just the few people staying. Sunrise approaches in the distance, and the yellow and gold and honey rays reach out toward them. “Did I ever tell you why I was in Las Vegas?”

Grace looks at her. Yuki lies in her lap, mouth kiss-swollen, fingers curled around the bottle of champagne. “No,” she says quietly. “You never told me.”

Yuki smiles. “Monster hunting,” she says. “We crowdfunded to get that trip paid for, and I didn’t find a thing.” She glances up. “I was so frustrated about going back home with nothing. I went out on my last night to at least have some fun. And then I found you.”

“And then you found me.”

Yuki shivers when Grace runs fingers through her hair, careful of the barrettes. “Maybe you heard me,” Yuki says, “that night in the desert. Maybe you heard me singing you a song even back then.” She holds her pinky out. “Finders keepers. No take-backs. Promise me.”