Deciding not to turn up empty handed, I pull out ingredients and whip together cinnamon rolls like the ones I made back at Troyer's, complete with glazed icing on top. When they are ready, I wrap up the tray and head down to find Martin. He said to come visit, so I assume that means he's back to living in the alley. Apparently, I'm wrong.
I stand in the dark passageway alone. There's no sign of his recent occupation.
I kick the crate I usually sit on. Stupid, unreliable men!
An icy breeze cuts through the alley. I shiver, though the heat from the pan of rolls keeps my hands warm. My stomach growls. Needing sustenance, warmth, and someone to give me a second opinion before my patience wears off, I head into Tea and Tales.
The line is seven customers deep, but my spot is open by the window, so I plop down in it. Usually, I try not to use my connections to bypass customers, but I'm very thankful when Leah approaches carrying two mugs.
"What are those?" She peers into the tray, setting my mug down and taking the armchair beside me.
"Cinnamon rolls for Martin. Have you seen him?"
"Not in a while."
My stomach growling again, I pull back the plastic wrap. "Want one?"
"You look like you've got a lot on your mind," she says after I serve us each a roll on a napkin. "Jason talked to you then."
"I should have figured he'd tell you," I say.
Leah picks at her roll. "He didn't tell me, but it's easy enough to guess. He's been on edge since your dinner at Sarah's."
"That was a disaster."
Leah nibbles on a bite of muffin, her expression contemplative. "He's been waiting for you here every morning and evening. Jason, I mean."
"I've been busy."
"Ignoring him."
"Writing a three-hundred plus page book," I add defensively, though she is too right.
"How's John?"
"Working."
She gives me a disparaging look. "If you want to talk about it, we can. If not, let me know and I'll make up something meaningless to chatter about."
"Fine." I set my muffin down and lick my fingers clean before I tell Leah about Jason's warning and suspicions.
"Do you think he's right?" she asks when I'm done.
"I know he is, but I'm not sure if it matters."
"Hmm... Maybe not, but how will you know—"
"If I don't ask. Yeah..." I clutch my hand around the warm, red mug. "Part of me wonders if it isn't just better to leave the past in the past, you know? Start fresh... Jason obviously doesn't agree."
"I suppose he wouldn't." Leah gazes at the coffee table as she sips on her tea. "Have you talked to anyone else about this yet? Gotten a second opinion?"
"That's what the rolls were for."
Leah freezes. "You were going to Martin for relationship advice..." The statement is almost a question but not quite.
I shrug, not realizing until now how silly seeking out a homeless man who is running from all his relationships for love-life advice is.
"I'm not any better, mind you," Leah adds, "but I just assumed you'd go to Frank or your parents."
"My parents are not pro-John at the moment."
"But they are pro-you," she clasps her hand on my forearm for a moment. "Still, Frank would be your best bet for that sort of direction. And, of course, praying about it is always wise. I know that much."
I nod as I consider her advice. "I'll talk to him."
"This is probably the last question you want to be asked but how's the book coming along?"
"I'll probably have to put the blog on the back burner for a week, but I should make the deadline."
"If you want, I could guest post for you... while you're focusing. If you don't mind seven days of Austen..."
"Actually, that would be great." A lightbulb clicks on in my head. "Could you do me one more huge favor? I'll barter baked goods. Whatever you want for the shop."
"Zia, I will help you for free."
"I insist. I need a really good and fast beta reader. I'll feel better if you let me give you something in return."
Leah nibbles on her lip. "Iced cinnamon rolls and oatmeal chocolate-chip cookies?"
"Deal."
Leah and I finish our rolls and drinks before she heads back to help with the line, and I decide to go see Frank.
The pizzeria is bustling despite school being out for winter break. It's New York, after all. I get a brief glimpse of the packed tables before my vision is skewed by a tall, red-headed boy whose smile is more familiar to me than my own.
"Zizi." John kisses me. "Are you hungry?"
I can't help but smile despite knowing what I'm here to do, to find out. I love John in a way that makes everything else but him blurry. Even the pain of loving him. "I'll grab a spot at the bar."
He kisses me on the nose. "If I get a minute, I'll come by."
"It's fine. I'll make sure to say goodbye before I leave." I kiss his lips to wipe away the frown. He doesn't have time to reply, a customer is calling him over.
I weave my way through the tightly packed chairs and tables to the last open spot on the bar. Thankfully my uncle spots me, stops what he's doing, and walks over. "Root beer and a slice? Or is it a water kind of night?"
"Water definitely."
Frank serves me a slice and a water. It's not fair how great service is for me on Burrow Street, but I'm too selfish at the moment to deny it.
"What's on your mind, Kiddo?" Frank asks as I wait for my slice to cool.
"That obvious?"
He shrugs. "I raised a granddaughter, and I have a sister, mother, and a wife. I know the look on your face."
"Leah says your my best bet for relationship advice."
Frank's brow pulls together. "You and John are having issues?"
"Kind of...maybe." I take a deep breath and tell him all about what Jason said about John, how I feel about it, and not knowing what's the right path forward—to confront or not to confront.
"Have you asked him why he came when he did?"
"He always says it's because it was hard for him to leave his family. If I pry, he says I'm taking Jason's side or... or that I'm in love with Jason or something."
"Are you?" Frank raises one big, bushy eyebrow.
"Right now I feel like he's the Darth Vader in my life." And yes, maybe part of me loves him in an attracted to platonic way.
Frank chuckles. "All right then. I suppose my advice is that I don't have the right answer for you. No one does. John may be hiding a lot he's not ready to tell anyone. Some of that may be things that would make you reconsider allowing him back in your life."
I wince at that.
"Zia, I haven't known him that long. He seems like a hardworking man who loves you. Does that mean you two should get married despite whatever each of you may be keeping from the other?"
My gaze drops to my pizza, not liking the implication in Frank's tone.
"I don't know," he goes on. "Should anyone marry unless they absolutely have to?"
My gaze flicks back up to him.
He holds up a hand. "Hear me out. I know you can't see why, but I love your aunt. From the moment I met her, I had to marry her. There was no other way for me. It is my belief that the only kind of love that can make a marriage a happily ever after is the sort that there is no turning back from. It changes you forever.
"If that's what you have with John, then none of what happened matters. Maybe you two should still air out the dirty laundry, but at the end of the day, nothing will keep you apart."
I chew on his words for a moment. "So should I ask him or not?"
"Figure out what kind of love you two have, and you'll know."
Sigh. "Great." I pick up the pizza. "Can I have this to go?"
Frank wraps up a few slices and pours the water into a to-go cup. After I kiss John goodnight, I head back to the apartment. I make a quick call home asking my parents to beta-read the book, which they enthusiastically agree to. After emailing the files, I pop in New Moon and settle down with my dinner in front of the television.
The screen flashes before my eyes, unraveling my favorite part of Bella's story. Oddly, the darkest one. The one where she has to try to live without the one that makes her whole. Where she discovers she can open her heart to another, to Jacob, but then she's left with two warring parts of herself that won't fit together. The Sun and the Moon. As the closing credits roll I'm left wondering, which would I choose? Up until now, my answer has always been Jacob. I'm partial to the sun. But does that mean John is my Jacob or my Edward?