Bananapants: A Bonkers Romantic Comedy
Bananapants: Chapter 35

[Referring to the cookies] “Are they made from real Girl Scouts?”

— The Addams Family (1991)

“You know what this reminds me of?”

“What’s that, Sandra?” my mom asked.

We currently sat in Des’s parents’ living room, and it was almost 3:00 a.m. The police had taken Henri and his guards away and had wanted to take the three of us down to the station as well. But then Cypher’s lawyers showed up—Uncle Quinn’s team—and now here we were.

“The time you stabbed that guy with your knitting needle.” Aunt Sandra mimed a stabbing motion. “It was the first indication of your ninja skills that I can recall.”

“Wait. When was this?” I glanced between my mom and my aunt. I’d never heard this story.

“Which time?” Aunt Janie asked Aunt Sandra.

“There was more than one time?” My sister lifted her voice in a near shout, leaning forward from her spot on Aunt Janie’s couch. “Why are we just now hearing about this?”

“That’s what I’d like to know. I thought it was only the one time,” Aunt Ashley said, sounding grumpy. Apparently, she and Aunt Sandra had been on the phone when my off-duty guard Curtis—who’d been listening to police scanners for some reason—had alerted Alex of the incident. Aunt Ashley had simply remained on the phone with Aunt Sandra for the last few hours while the whole ordeal unfolded. And now she was listening in as an active participant.

“You weren’t there either time,” Aunt Sandra said offhandedly to Aunt Ashley.

This made Aunt Ashley sputter. “Why am I never around for the excitement? Y’all plan these debacles to take place when I’m gone.”

“You live in Tennessee!” Aunt Elizabeth, walking into the room and placing a mug of hot tea in front of me, and then one in front of Grace, turned to the phone Aunt Sandra held. “If you want to be included in the debacles, y’all are going to have to move to Chicago.” Aunt Elizabeth butchered the pronunciation of y’all. It sounded all wrong coming from her Midwest mouth.

Uncle Quinn stepped forward and addressed my mom. “Fiona, this wouldn’t have happened if Ava and Grace lived in our building.”

My mom and dad shared a quick glance and my mom looked like she wanted to protest Uncle Quinn’s suggestion.

My father spoke first. “For once, I agree with ye-old-burly-silent-one. Since they don’t wish to move back home with their parents for some reason, Ava and Grace would be safer here, at the Grant Park property. That’s a fact. And when it’s a fact, it’s impossible to argue with. I think Abraham Lincon said that once. In a speech. Before he died of dysentery, wasn’t it?”

“He did not say that and you know he was assassinated.” My mom looked like she wanted to roll her eyes and barely abstained by some miracle of self-discipline and adultiness.

I raised my hand. “For the record, I have no problem moving to the Grant Park property as long as it’s okay with Grace.”

My sister grimaced, looking torn.

“What’s wrong, Grace?” Uncle Quinn asked softly. “If it’s about the rent, don’t worry.”

“But I will worry, Uncle Quinn. I don’t want to—you know. I like being independent.” She turned to our dad. “Sorry. But I think I have to pass.” Then to me, she said, “I do think you should move in here though. Dad and Uncle Quinn are right. Even if this Henri dude is in prison, he’s still powerful and clearly maniacal. Better for you to move in now than regret it later.”

“You might be in danger too,” Des piped in from his spot next to me. “Grace, consider doing it for a short time, maybe a few months to a year.”

She grimaced again, so I stood and walked to her, taking the seat beside her and linking our arms together. “Don’t leave me by myself, Grace! I don’t want to be alone. Please. Please, please, please⁠—”

“Okay! Fine,” she grumbled, and I grinned, promptly standing and walking back to sit next to Des.

“It’s settled,” Uncle Dan said, appearing out of nowhere and pointing to me, then Grace, then Des. “You three, you’re moving into the building.”

“When did you arrive?” I asked Uncle Dan. He hadn’t been present during knit night earlier, I was sure of it.

“Hey, gorgeous.” He winked at me, not answering my question.

Des opened his mouth, whether to protest or agree, I had no idea—but his dad cut him off. “Desmond, I think we’d all appreciate it if you lived closer to Ava. Especially since you’re somewhat responsible for the events of this evening.”

Des immediately nodded. “That’s a good point, Dad. And I agree. I’ll move into the building too.”

Uncle Quinn’s chin lowered, but I caught his smirk before he hid it. I shifted my narrowed eyes between father and son. Something shady was going on between them. Apparently, they’d made up enough to be shady together. Interesting.

“Well, it’s settled.” Aunt Janie covered a yawn with the back of her hand. “And why don’t they all sleep here tonight? Desmond and Ava can have his room and Grace can stay in Natalie’s.”

I looked at Des. He hadn’t wanted to go inside his room earlier and this was a huge step given the fact that yesterday he’d stepped foot inside his childhood home for the first time in ten years.

But to my surprise, he stood and pulled me up with him, also yawning like his mom’s yawn had been contagious. “Makes sense. Well, we’re beat. Good night, everyone.”

I didn’t miss the way my aunts and uncles as well as my own parents followed our movements with little smirks of approval and congratulatory nods between themselves. I didn’t mind. It was nice knowing we had an entire cheering section rooting for us. Nice and also amusing.

Des, threading our fingers together, guided me down the stairs to his room and walked right in like it was no big deal, shutting the door after us.

I meandered to his dresser, scanning the pictures and knickknacks on top of it without actually taking note, and turned back to him as he approached.

“What’s with that look?” he asked, making a show of inspecting my face.

“It’s just, you surprised me earlier. I’m surprised you agreed so readily to move into the building and spend the night here. It seems fast.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “When I make up my mind, I’m all in.”

“I guess that’s true.” I tilted my head to see him better. Or maybe just from a new angle. “But earlier you wouldn’t even take a step in here, and now you’re willing to spend the night?”

Des’s gaze moved from mine to my lips. “Are you kidding?” he asked, his voice growing quiet, intimate. “Do you know how many times I fantasized about you spending the night in my room with me? I’m not turning that down.”

I hit his stomach lightly with the back of my hand and he caught my fingers, smiling at me and stepping closer. We stared at each other for a while and I wondered if his thoughts mirrored mine. If he was covering his residual fear and shock with humor and chitchat like I was.

“Hey,” he murmured, bringing my hand to his shoulder, and then moving to embrace me. “You’re okay. We’re safe. Grace is safe. It’s all okay.”

I nodded but I didn’t fight my tears as they began to fall, pressing my cheek against his chest. “I’m so angry. I’m so angry that he—that he did that. That he thought he could do that to Grace, and to us.”

“I know. I know.” He pet my hair, holding me tight. “I’m so sorry it happened. And that’s why I agreed with my father. It’s better for you—and Grace, and me—to move in here with the tight security. Until Henri loses interest, whenever that is, we’ll be safe here and that’s what matters.”

I nodded because, unlike my sister, I didn’t have her independent streak. I liked the idea of being close to my aunts and uncles. And Des. I’d missed this building and coming back felt like coming home. I could see us happy here because we’d been happy here once upon a time.

His chest rose and fell with a deep breath. “We’re safe. Hareem got his manufacturing rights back. Henri is in jail. Sue is retiring. Looks like it’s a happily ever after.”

I leaned back to peer up at him. Des met my eyes and his seemed to warm with a smile before it claimed his lips.

“Thank you for coming back, Des,” I said softly. Then added with a hard edge, “And thank you for never leaving me again.”

His grin widened. “You’re welcome. And may I say thank you for naked-cuddling with me tonight.”

I thought about that for a moment, then nodded, reaching for the bottom of my T-shirt and whipping it off. “You may.”

He stepped back and pulled off his own shirt. “You’re the best. Did you know that?”

“I do.” I unzipped my shorts and dropped them along with my underwear. “And so are you. Which makes us the best squared.”

He stepped forward to help me unclasp my bra. Embarrassingly, he was faster at it than I was. Tugging it off my shoulders, he tossed it to someplace behind him. Des reached for my hands and brought them to the button of his jeans, encouraging me to undo his fly as he bent and kissed me.

And then we were kissing. Naked kissing. Touching. Petting. Sighing. And eventually resting and reclining under the covers of his bed.

As I fell asleep that night—much faster than I had a right to, given all the fear of the evening prior—I wondered at the peace of my mind and in my heart. Maybe it was because, no matter how much I worried and fretted and lost sleep over past events, I understood both old and new struggles would exist in the morning no matter what as long as I was alive.

So I might as well sleep and rest and cuddle with Des while I could. I might as well spend our mornings and evenings and weekends together, making plans and teasing and making love while we could. I would enjoy being with him in the present and hope our future extended beyond the horizon, where I couldn’t see, and I wouldn’t talk myself out of the adventure ahead.

Because Des was my person, and I was his. He was part of my team. Even if I couldn’t be his quarterback or MVP, I was his number one cheerleader and co-conspirator. Loving him was effortless, like coming home to a place where I felt safe and cherished.

I couldn’t control every facet of our future, nor could I always avoid embarrassment and discomfort. But I could take one day at a time and be an active participant in life. And if that felt overwhelming, Des had taught me to take one hour at a time, then one minute, then one breath.

In this breath, we were happy and safe and well and together and in love. And no one can ask for more than that.