My Funny Valyntine: Book One - The Pull

Chapter Fourteen - Desafinado

i.

A knock comes fifteen minutes before midnight.

Valyntine has not slept. Listening to Latin's slow, slumbering breathing, she stared at the ceiling while trying to come up with answers to all of her questions.

"There's a bathroom across the hall," Thomas's voice comes from the other side of the door. "Come down to the kitchen after."

After using the facilities and cleaning several spots of tomato sauce from her upper lip and chin, Valyntine and Latin descend the creaking stairs into the kitchen. Anthony sits at the table with his face in a book. Thomas stands near a percolator, filling cups with what smells to Valyntine like a dark roast. He hands them around.

"This is good," Valyntine says. She sampled every variety of bean Margie and Louise ever brought into the Soul Sauce, but can't remember ever having this.

"Oh sure, you like their coffee," Latin says, into his cup, testing her mood by giving her a smile. She doesn't return it.

"I work in a coffee house. I don't think I've ever tasted this," she says to Thomas, taking another sip and sighing with appreciation.

"The Ivory Coast," says Anthony, his face still in a book.

Valyntine looks at him, surprised he offered up an answer.

"I'm sorry," he says after another beat, in a tone suggesting he means it. "I'm sorry your first impression of me was angry and drunk." He still speaks through his nose but sounds more like his brother now, calm and relaxed.

"S'okay," Valyntine says, shrugging.

"And you," Anthony hardens as he addresses Latin. "I'll never forgive or forget what you've done. But, this girl needs our help," he flicks a thumb at Valyntine. "And Mrs. Jones is calling in her favor. I won't break my word."

"And..." Thomas says, both leading and encouraging his brother.

Anthony sighs, "Even though I don't want to, I'll admit I want to know more about what's happening with this Pull. Forty years and we've never heard of anything like this. If a new, powerful weaver is in Porter City, we need to know."

"I appreciate-" Latin begins, but Anthony cuts him off.

"After we've done our part, we will consider the debt to Mrs. Jones paid. I don't ever want to see you again."

Latin, appearing to choose his words with care and caution, says, in a subdued voice, "I had no desire to expose either of you to me. Life is strange and unpredictable. If I find myself before you again, know it is because I have no choice. If Mrs. Jones requests it, I will obey. I will, however, do so with the understanding that you, Anthony Saint, may very well end my life if I show up again on your doorstep. It is no less than I deserve."

Valyntine wants to scream at them. Her desire to know the details of what happened between them almost outweighs her desire for answers to the Pull.

"It's almost midnight," Thomas says, setting his mug down. "We need to get started."

The four of them file into the same room they talked in a few hours ago, the one with all the books. This time, the books on the floor are gone. Anthony notices Valyntine looking around.

"We needed the space," he says. She nods, pretending to understand.

"The fuck is that for?" she asks, nervous, watching Thomas unfold the legs of a cot. Memories of the Strutters come rushing forward.

"It's easier to remain still and relaxed if you lay down," Thomas says, confused by her reaction.

Latin, thudding his forehead with his hand, bounds across the room and opens the door.