Page 61 of Plus One

Where his attention was, Monique wasn’t sure. But his mouth, without a doubt, was pouting. “Sometimes I wish I could break the rules,” he said, more to himself. Monique giggled beside him, their arms brushing. His face relaxed, but only a little bit. “I need to make sure everybody’s okay.”

“You’re such a camp counselor kinda guy. I bet you were a hall monitor and all that.”

“Nah. I never did much except go to school and hang with Tommie. Too much at home to watch for. Couldn’t spread my attention too thin.”

“I get that. My therapist calls that hyper-vigilance.” He didn’t react to that. She didn’t either.

“I don’t know how I got elected cruise director,” he finally said with a little more bite in his voice.

She liked it, him standing up for himself in this small way and telling her the truth about his feelings. Monique softly shoulder-checked him and quirked an eyebrow.

“What?” he asked, pensive face giving way to a smile.

“Nothin’.”

Mr. Turner clapped Maurice on the shoulder as he passed, a silent show of gratitude. She noticed how Maurice’s chest lifted.

Then Richard walked past, saying nothing, while Sunny walked several steps behind her husband. She was already talking before she reached them. “I’m looking forward to seeing your pictures. It was so beautiful out there.” She gave Monique a soft smile and passed Maurice an almost imperceptible nod, but her grin was ridiculous.

Tommie approached next, with Lanie leaning hard into his side. “See you in the morning.”

“Don’t be late,” Lanie said, winking at Maurice.

Just when she let the whole stupid and complicated plot to set them up slip from her mind, those two had to go and remind her.

“Good night, y’all,” Monique said, trying to keep her voice neutral.

She approached the hotel entrance and caught Maurice’s eye before stepping inside. “Good night, Mo.”

“Night, Mo,” he said, still standing on the curb with her cousin.

In her room, Monique kicked off her shoes. Then she let her skirt fall to the floor and tore her shirt over her head, adding it to the pile at her feet.

Suddenly exhausted, she let out a loud and long yawn as she padded her way to the bathroom. “Damn, I didn’t realize I was so tired,” she said, as she tapped out a text to her kids with a couple of pictures from their excursion: glowing water under a mangrove archway, the DJ setup and dance floor at the restaurant, and a hummingbird she saw earlier in the day. Hopefully, her kids were asleep and wouldn’t reply until a reasonable hour. But Monique never could tell with her meddling kids. Plus, they were unsupervised during a holiday weekend, with a two-hour time difference. She’d have to have words with them once she got home.

She stood in front of the mirror in her navy blue bra and high-waisted panties, a set her daughter had picked out and made her feel like maybe her body wasn’t merely a record of everything she’d survived.

She peeled the bandage from the port scar on her chest, still pink and tender. Healing. The hysterectomy scar running from hip to hip was hidden under lace and cotton. The radiation burns that were fading but would never disappear peeked over the top of her waistband, along with the topical map of keloids and stretch marks that tracked the journey of her children, her surgeries, her survival.

She pressed her knuckles into that spot on her right side. The ache was always there, flaring up as a reality check whenever things were going too well.

Her phone buzzed. Group chat.Those thirsty heffas should be asleep. Monique should be too.

CHICKIE

Did you kiss him yet???

ELEANOR

Chickie it’s almost 3 am there let the woman SLEEP

VANESSA

Mo’s not sleeping she’s with HIM

Monique smiled and began typing a response. A soft thud outside her door made her pause and turn around. She snatched the hotel robe from the bathroom on her way to the door.

Maurice stood in the hallway. Not quite at her door. Head down, hands in his pockets, like he was trying to decide.