“She loves almonds and the stuff they tried to feed her this morning sucked.”
“Amelia bought her the almonds?”
Jason grunted in assent.
“That was nice of her, Jason.”
“She wasn’t going to come today, Sophie. Almonds don’t make up for that.” He took off toward the elevator without waiting for me to respond. I briefly considered following him back up to Dena’s room but quickly changed my mind. Dena could easily handle Jason on her own.
I walked out of the hospital and was hit by a cool gust of wind. I could see the dark mass of fog moving in from over the ocean, but at that moment the sky directly above me was still a muted shade of blue. I let my eyes scan over the busy sidewalk as I hooked my thumbs into the belt loops of my jeans. Sitting by the nearest bus stop was Amelia.
There was no bench, so she was just hunched over on the curb, her rainbow tie-dyed skirt hanging in the gutter. I went over, gingerly sat down beside her and waited for her to acknowledge me. She eventually did, pushing her thick curls behind her shoulders so I could see her profile. Amelia was one of those rare individuals who didn’t wear makeup and usually didn’t need it. But today her complexion was puffy and red.
“I just needed to wrap my head around it,” she whispered.
I nodded. “I get that.”
She turned and looked at me. “You do?”
“Of course. This whole thing came out of nowhere. I seriously don’t know if I’ll ever wrap my head around it.”
Amelia put her hand on my knee, her expression morphing from grieved to desperate. “You know I love Dena, right? She’s such a beautiful person. I love her energy and her aura is, like, totally amazing. Kim, who really isn’t all that into mysticism, even he knows Dena has an awesome aura.” Her face darkened and she turned from me again. “He says it’s sapphire blue but to me it looks purple.”
“Excuse me?”
“Dena has a purple aura. Purple’s the color of royalty and Dena’s a queen. At least that’s what she is to Kim and Jason.”
“What does that make you?”
A large truck went by and I twisted my body away from the street to avoid the exhaust. When I turned back around Amelia had her hands over her face. She kept them there for a minute even though the truck was now several blocks away.
“I think,” she said through her fingers, “it makes me the kings’ consort. I’m their whore.”
I sucked in a sharp breath.
“I never thought I’d use that word.” She allowed her hands to slip to her lap. “I don’t believe sex is something that should only be experienced within the confines of some state-approved union. Sex can be a beautiful way of expressing yourself. Maybe you want to express yourself with a guy you meet at Whole Foods with beautiful eyes and a passion for organic produce. If you care for him in that moment and you want to be with him…well, why shouldn’t you? Being unselfish with your affections doesn’t make a woman a whore. It just makes her generous.”
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