“About time, Grady. Come over here and help me get this up.”
“How?”
She frowned at me. “Uh…hold one side and stick the thumbtack in the wall. Don’t worry, Nick said we could. And tape won’t cut it, I tried.”
“How the hell did you do all of this in an hour? Are you on Adderall? Speed?” I gasped. “Meth?”
She offered a fake chuckle. “Hilarious.”
I stepped over, kicking balloons out of the way with my shoes—white and beige Nikes, not heavy winter boots. If I never had to wear those again, it would’ve been too soon.
Instead of going to the other side of the banner, I stopped behind Ell and gave her a playful tap on the backside. She squealed and slapped my hand away.
“Behave, Grady!”
“Make me,” I teased. The playful taps turned to playful pinches. Ell wobbled and let out a gleeful yelp. I caught her in my arms, dipped, and kissed her.
“Okay, okay,” she said. “Save it for later. There’s work to be done—”
Someone cleared their throat at the room’s entrance, and a high voice said, “Easy, guys. There’s enough cream on this cake already.” This woman burst out in laughter.
Ell and I parted, color rising in both of our cheeks. I shifted to the side and hoped this new arrival hadn’t noticed where all the blood in my body had gone. If she did, she didn’t give any inclination, and I was grateful for that. Don’t worry, a quick mental recitation of the Pledge of Allegiance helped things below the belt return to normal.
The woman’s name was Debbie; she was the City’s head chef. Some people around here called her Little Debbie—a play on her occupation and name. She told me this when I first met her, patting her thighs. “As you can see, I’m anything but little. I like what I cook too much, and what chef doesn’t sneak a few bites here and there? None, I’ll tell ya. And not to toot my own horn or anything, but I’m quite good at my job.” She had then laid a plate in the middle of the table and winked. On it was a double chocolate brownie with the creamiest vanilla ice cream I’ve ever tasted next to it. “This is for the new arrivals. We’re so glad to have you here.”
I remember as the four of us dug into this dessert, I thought—despite getting my ass kicked by Berretti’s henchmen—that I was glad to be here. I liked Debbie from the outset. She reminded me of a more vulgar version of my grandmother.
Debbie’s cheeks, unlike ours, weren’t red. She wore a heavy layer of makeup, but she didn’t need it. She was seventy years old with the face of a much younger woman and the sense of humor of a frat boy.
“Is that—?” Ell began, her voice choking up. “Is that for Mia?”
Debbie smiled. “Word spreads faster around here than my legs at a Billy Joel concert.”
“Yikes,” I said.
“Oh, don’t you ‘yikes’ me. We’re all adults here.” She winked. “Anyway, it’s a chocolate cream cake with peanut butter icing. Enjoy.” Debbie set the cake on the nearest table and went toward the door.
“Wait,” I said, “aren’t you gonna stay?”
A smile erupted across Debbie’s face. “Y-you mean it?”
“Of course,” Eleanor said.
“Would she want me here?”
“Well,” I said, “she most likely doesn’t want anyone here, you know, because that’s just Mia for you, but the more the merrier, right?”
Ell went at the cake with a plastic spoon. She scraped off a bit of icing and gave it a taste. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she exclaimed, “Mmm, oh my God!”
“Hey, isn’t that bad luck or something?” I said. “You can’t eat someone’s cake before them—”
Ignoring my remark, Ell said, “After she gets a taste of that cake, Debbie, you’re gonna be Mia’s best friend. Trust me.”
Debbie beamed.
Like many others, Debbie had suffered great tragedy, but hers was newer than most. Her husband, her grown daughter, and her two grandchildren were among the victims of the recent massacre. At the snap of a finger, everyone she loved was gone. The grandchildren, a boy and a girl, were both under five years old. She hid it well; that is, if you never looked her in the eye. If you did, you’d see how much sadness she carried.
A young woman named Scarlett came up with the idea of painting murals on the interior tunnel walls before we arrived to offset some of the gloom. The tunnels had no windows, and even if it was safe enough for them to have windows, all that would lie beyond them was more gloom. Cheering up was much needed. The people of the City found Scarlett’s idea a good one, but she didn’t do all the drawings herself. Most everyone had chipped in over the course of a few weeks.
Red and yellow and green flowers, trees, sunsets, houses and stick figure families, dogs and cats and birds and all types of animals—all these brightened the City up more than any light could.
On a more somber note, among these paintings were memorials to those who were lost. I had seen the one honoring Debbie’s family, and it was so realistic, I almost mistook the painting for real people.
The paintings did well in cheering me up for a time—but the more I thought about them, the more sadness they brought, because they represented a time that was forever gone. These depictions of the old world were just a reminder of all the things we’d forever miss. Even if the snow somehow miraculously melted and the monsters vanished, I knew things would never be the same. And that broke the remainder of my already shattered heart.
The party officially began sometime around seven p.m.
The music playing from the stereo grew louder, the room became more crowded, and the cake was gone in about three minutes.
Mia held Monica in a sling over her chest. She was asleep,
