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Three days. She was going to be a wife in three days. She still hadn’t finalized her vows, her family—chosen and otherwise—and all their friends were starting to arrive tomorrow. And despite her much needed pampering, Nomi honestly would’ve preferred to be back at the hotel in front of her computer like Bug. But Amanita deserved a perfect Eiffel Tower wedding and BPO certainly deserved to pay out the nose for it, so eloping was out and mani/pedis were in. At least there was champagne.
Nomi used to get so jealous of Teagan, getting that girl time with their mother while she was expected to be boyish with their dad. She gave herself pedicures with nail polish stolen from Teagan’s bedroom long before she was brave enough to expose herself by painting her fingernails, hiding her femininity with white crew socks. Now her family was on their way to Paris. She hadn’t seen them since Teagan’s wedding when her dad called her his daughter for the first time. And her mom called her a disaster. She gulped her champagne, careful not to smudge her still wet nails. They should’ve eloped.
“Do you want me to kill her for you?” Wolfgang asked, sitting outside at a nearby cafe with a cigarette and a beer. He was alone, as much as any of them could be, since Felix opted in for pampering and was flirting shamelessly with a woman twice his age exfoliating his feet. Not that Wolfgang needed a manicure. Somehow he and Sun both had nicer hands than she did, and they were constantly punching things. Maybe bathing in the blood of your enemies was good for the skin afterall.
“I’m not saying no…”
“Is that Wolfie?” Felix asked. He was still getting used to the whole sensate thing, and was somehow under the impression every time she talked to herself she was talking to Wolfgang, despite having grown up with him and knowing fully well he rarely initiated conversation on his own. Or bothered participating when he didn’t absolutely have to.
But in this case, he was right. “Yeah.”
“Is he threatening to kill your mom again?” Amanita asked.
“Yeah.” Glancing at the woman who until seconds ago had been rubbing her feet and was now staring aghast, she whispered, “Germans.”
Felix winked at the woman because why not make it more awkward. He had all the social graces as Bug, except his were deliberate. But if she were completely honest, it was refreshing. He and Wolfgang made not giving a fuck what anyone thought into an art form. And since they’d opted not to go home to Berlin after Naples and risk having German gangster number three try his hand at killing them, they’d just been crashing at Rajan’s apartment and exploring Paris’ nightlife.
Wolfgang would do wonders in the Castro. He couldn’t keep his shirt on if his life depended on it and he flirted with anyone and everyone. Bug usually opted out of the club scene when the four of them went, but since they’d been in Paris for weeks now doing the tourist thing it had been a nice change of pace to experience European techno clubs. Amanita missed the excitement of Sans Jour entirely after all, and Nomi had only gotten it secondhand. She now understood how Wolfgang hadn’t noticed having a gun go off right next to his head. And Paris was nowhere close to the chaos of Berlin.
In what seemed like a terrible idea, the two of them had been given Rajan’s credit card to roam around with unsupervised. But it enabled Kala and Rajan to pay for her and Amanita’s wedding dresses, and their recent EDM excursions, and their now unbearably awkward spa day.
The remainder of the pampering was silent except for the French pop music on the radio, songs she knew because Riley knew them, or Wolfgang. She and Amanita had now been in Europe for close to three months, paid in part by what she’d squeezed out of Metzger’s credit cards before they were canceled, but mostly by the Rasals. All she had to do to earn this extended vacation was nearly get lobotomized and become a fugitive. And Amanita had been at her side every step of the way. Her girlfriend. Her best friend. Her fiance. And soon to be her wife. So why was Nomi’s heart racing like she was running from Whispers all over again every time she thought about walking down the aisle?
“It’s just nerves,” Kala reassured her from the comfort of her bed. Rajan was waiting on her hand and foot despite her full recovery, and running around their open closet trying to help her pack while of course she remained as indecisive as ever, and kept just choosing both when he held up outfits to compare.
“It wasn’t in your case,” Nomi reminded her as she sat beside her in Mumbai. Wolfgang would not be interrupting her wedding in the nude, but if Kala kept choosing both he might be interrupting her honeymoon.
“It was in mine,” Riley said sweetly. She joined them on the bed and wrapped her arms around the two of them. “What you’re feeling is normal.”
“Are you sure your dad doesn’t mind playing?” A wedding at the top of the Eiffel Tower to the woman she loved, a world-renowned pianist performing for them, and the voices in her head from all over the world in attendance. How was this her life?
“He wants to. He said he’d be honored.”
“Deep breaths,” Sun said. “I will also kill your mother for you if necessary.”
“Thank you. I’ll let you know.”
“Everything okay, honey?” Amanita asked, bringing her back to Paris.
“Everything’s perfect.” Her phone rang, the Imperial March from Star Wars she used as a ringtone for calls from her mother. “Ugh. Spoke too soon.”
“Want me to get it?” Felix asked, which by Wolfgang grinning and nodding enthusiastically beside him she took as him wanting to tell Janet to fuck herself instead of being considerate of Nomi’s manicure. What she wouldn’t have given to have a Felix in her life when she was a kid. But then she might not have retreated to the wilds of the World Wide Web. And technology had always had her back.
She declined the call. Teagan would text her if it was anything important, and if it wasn’t, she didn’t need to hear it. “I got this one. Danke.”
When the voicemail notification chimed Amanita took her phone, screening it herself with her expression impassive. Then she deleted it without a word. Amanita always had her back too.
Felix paid the bill with Rajan’s credit card and left a ridiculous tip, and his number, and the three of them went to retrieve Wolfgang at the cafe. He gave Felix the last drag of his cigarette before putting it out for their benefit on the walk back to their hotel.
“Could’ve used a longer foot massage,” Amanita groaned, flopping onto the bed as soon as they were inside and pulling off her shoes.
“I told you not to wear those shoes.”
“Well, we can’t all be 5’10”, Nom,” she teased. Nomi’s height used to make her self conscious but Amanita loved wearing heels despite her aching feet and after experiencing firsthand how frustrating it could be for Kala, the shortest member of their cluster, to reach things without having to stand on a chair, she’d gained a new appreciation for it. “I just need to break them in.”
Those were her fifth new pair since they returned to Paris from Naples, because Felix liked shoe shopping as much as Amanita did and he was unlikely to get shot again for buying them. Nomi climbed on top of her, doing her part to help break them in by tossing them across the room. Then she made good on that much needed longer foot massage.
Amanita moaned orgasmically. “Do you want me to do yours?”
“No, mine are fine.”
She propped herself up on her elbows, never one to miss the subtleties of Nomi’s mood. “Just cold?”
“Just… anxious.” And a phone call from her mother didn’t help. “What did she say?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“No. And yes. Will it make it more or less likely Wolfgang tosses her off the Eiffel Tower?”
“More.”
Shit. She braced herself for impact. “Okay, tell me.” Us, as Wolfgang appeared once again to bless her with offerings of matricide.
Taking a deep breath, Amanita said, “she wanted a pic of your dress so she could quote: mentally prepare ahead of time. End quote.”
Nomi had already mentally prepared for something like that. Her mother was probably expecting her to bring shame to the family and the entire institute of marriage as a whole by going the full white bridal with a veil route. Wolfgang just raised his eyebrows.
“Also, she wanted to know if someone was picking them up from the airport.”
“I’ll pick them up,” he said with a smile.
“They can get a fucking cab,” she said, then added to Wolfgang, “her parents could use a ride tomorrow morning though, if you’re offering.”
“Can he take the arsenal out of the trunk first,” Amanita suggested more than asked. Nomi knew the arsenal had already been moved inside Rajan’s apartment, not because Wolfgang knew it but because she went to put some food in their fridge and found a gun. And she knew because Kala knew that his rocket launcher was displayed with reverence next to Ganesha in the main bedroom.
“Sure,” Wolfgang laughed. “Just send their flight info to Felix.”
As far as Nomi was aware, Felix still had Wolfgang’s phone since he left it behind after being abducted in Berlin. It wasn’t like he needed it. The two of them were attached at the hip and everyone else he knew was attached at the head.
He’d be picking up Kala and Rajan tomorrow night; Will and Riley were arriving that afternoon but could manage the metro; Sun’s flight was a little delayed due to weather but she’d get there late and take a cab; and both Lito and Capheus were arriving the day of the wedding and leaving the next evening because they’d neglected their duties long enough already.
And then they’d be together again, their cluster and all their loved ones. Nomi would finally get to meet Capheus’s mom, Jela and Zakia, and Riley’s dad and Sven. Two years after that first migraine, seeing Angelica put a gun in her mouth and pull the trigger to protect them.
She’d spent so much of that time displaced from her life by BPO, from her home, and now their crimes had been exposed to the world and they were paying for her wedding. In Paris. Throughout everything Amanita had been at her side, supporting not only her but her entire cluster. And they loved her too. How could they not? The only person who refused to see Amanita for the amazing woman she was, the same person who spent a lifetime refusing to see Nomi, was her mother. “Remind me why we invited her?”
“To show off what a beautiful bride you’ll be.” Amanita sat up the rest of the way, curling against Nomi with her foot still in her hands and wrapping her arms around her. “And if she steps out of line, she steps off the tower. Wolfgang can wait his turn. I’m fully prepared to avenge my wife.”
Nomi smiled. “In heels, no less.”
“Always.”