Valo eased her way out of the car and shut the door. She hurried up the driveway, and as she did so, she called out, “Hey, Graham, Jade, open up! I have the food you asked me to whip up! Come help me haul it in!” No response came, so she rapped at the door. “Hey, guys, come on. I can’t do this myself. Guys?”

A long-haired man holding a small camcorder opened the door, a look of confusion and slight amusement on his face. “Can I help you?” he asked.

Valo replied, “Yeah, Jade and Graham asked me to make some stuff for them and drop it off. Where are they? I need help with some of it.”

“Jade’s at work, and Graham went to the store for some groceries,” the man replied, setting the camcorder aside. He rolled his eyes and smirked slightly. “Chad ate the last of the ice cream… and pizza… and bananas.”

“You must be Steve, then,” Valo said, eyes wide with realization. “Graham’s cousin.”

Steve chuckled. “Man, been a while since I was ‘Graham Gibson’s cousin’ to anyone,” he replied. “I’m more used to being ‘Steve McDullen, that singer who got his start online.’ Not that I mind being just Graham’s cousin… just not used to being treated, y’know…”

“Like a person? I mean, not that singers aren’t people, but…”

“Yeah, I dig. So, you must be either Emily or Valo. Jade and Graham kind of described their friends to me. They said they’re friends with this cute bird, Lia, and these two really brainy birds, Emily and Valo. You’re probably Valo.”

“What makes you say that?” Valo asked.

Steve grinned and replied, “They said Emily was more of the non-confrontational type, but Valo was a force to be reckoned with.”

Valo made a face. Lia’s the pretty one, she thought wryly. So, what does that make us, chopped liver? Valo knew she wasn’t particularly beautiful, especially given the changes she had gone through in the past few months. She tried to see herself as Steve did: a sallow woman in her thirties, large eyes magnified by scratched-up glasses, overly long hair (“Too long for a woman your age,” according to what seemed like damned near everyone these days), short fingernails that had been chewed nearly to the quick, and nibbled-at fingertips from when the nails got too short to chew. A force to be reckoned with, she thought bitterly. What the hell kind of ‘force’ do I look like to him? To anyone?


“So, where’s this stuff you need carried?” Steve asked.

“Back in my car. Jade wasn’t really up to making a big meal for you guys, so she asked me to make a few things. Nothing fancy, you know, just some cake and spaghetti and a few other things.”

“I’ll help you with that,” he replied, following her out to the car. As she loaded his arms with pans and bowls, he added, “So, are you from the area? I mean, you don’t sound like it.”

“You’re one to talk,” Valo teased, shutting the door and tucking a paper grocery sack under her arm. “You and Graham have accents that stick out like sore thumbs.”

“Kind of happens when you’re from another country, you know. So, come on, spill.”

“I was born and raised down here. I just kind of managed to get a more or less non-regional dialect. I sound really southern when I’m angry, though.”

“Maybe I should make you mad, just to hear it.”


“Bad idea. I have to be really mad to do it,” Valo replied, opening the door to the house and heading into the kitchen, where she sorted through the items.

“My girl back at home, she gets a kick out of American accents. Especially southern ones. She’d freak out if she realized that my cousin isn’t living in the land of heavy southern accents.”

“She’d like Mississippi or Georgia better, then. Back in college, a friend of mine was from Mississippi. Had a really heavy accent. Kid you not, first time I met him, I said, ‘You’re not from here, are you?’”

“Confrontational,” Steve remarked, chuckling. “So, why do they call you Valo?”

Valo laughed, embarrassed, and replied, “Oh, God, you had to ask. Back when I was in college—that’s pretty much the Stone Ages—I was a huge fan of the Finnish group HIM. And a friend of mine joked that I should be called Mrs. Valo, and I said, ‘Nah, Valo’s good enough.’ The nickname kind of stuck. It’s better than some of the nicknames I had back in high school.”

“For example?”

Valo made a face. “Jessie D., Jessie Hicks from the sticks… stuff like that. One of my teachers in middle school gave me those nicknames. Middle school! Ugh… I swear, you can tell when someone met me based on what their nicknames for me are.”


“Hey, who’s this?” a sleepy voice asked from behind them.

Steve turned around and replied, “Chad, this is Graham and Jade’s friend, Valo. Remember, they told us about her?”

“What the hell kind of name is Valo?” Chad asked, scratching his head.

“It’s a nickname,” Valo replied, a slight edge to her voice. “My real name is Jessica. Jessica DeSidiro.”

“Italian?”

“Yeah.”

“Hey, Steve, isn’t your girl part Italian? You ought to give her a call, let her know you’re not cheating.”

“Phoebe and I trust each other enough to not worry about that kind of thing,” Steve spoke up.

“I dunno, man, if I had a girl like that, I’d be wondering what she’s up to when I’m out of the country.”

“I’m going to go now. Tell Graham and Jade I’ll be back later,” Valo said, backing out of the room.

“Yeah, I’ll tell them you stopped by,” Steve replied, shooting a glare at Chad.