“I’ve got it,” she says, saving me from my stupid self. “But thanks.”
It’s only when she flicks a glance at Deanna, who I now see has made her way back up the porch stairs and is watching us, that I remember we’re not alone. I turn and follow Deanna down the stairs without looking back.
“She’s on your team?” she asks as we lower ourselves into her car.
I slouch down in my seat and nod as I work to contain my whirring thoughts.
“I’m assuming, because the bartender was going to call Addie, that there’s no mother?”
I glance at the house as if it has the answer just as the front yard sprinklers kick on. Addie’s gone from the porch and the windows are dark, so they’re obviously on a timer. From what I can see in the dim streetlights, the grass hasn’t been cut in a while, and the small flower bed near the house is a tangle of weeds. “Honestly, I don’t know.”
“What really happened to her head?”
I turn and find Deanna’s gaze locked on mine, intense and inquisitive. “Just what I said. She fell and hit her head on a starting block.”
Her eyes narrow slightly. “So, why does it feel like there’s something you’re both hiding?”
At her question, an intense, aching need erupts in my chest. I have no idea where it came from or what it means, but I stuff it down before it shows on my face.
I reach for my seatbelt and click it. “I feel responsible for what happened. I wanted to test her—to find out what she was capable of, so I pushed her while we were swimming laps. I didn’t realize she hadn’t eaten anything. She got dizzy and passed out. Whether she’d eaten or not, I shouldn’t have egged her on like that.” I turn to look at Deanna. “But she’s really good. She could be something special. I don’t think she has any idea how talented she is.”
She gives a slow nod, apparently satisfied by my explanation, then cranks the ignition. “So, I’ve got a bottle of wine at home that I’ve been meaning to open. You interested in helping me drink it?”
It feels like there are two wrong answers to that question. No, and I’m possibly feeding her sense that I’m hiding something, which I’m not. Yes, and I’m headed down a road I’m not really wanting to tread with Deanna tonight.
“My truck’s at Sam Hill. Maybe we should just head back there.”
She holds me in her gaze for a moment, then nods and pulls away from the curb.
When we get back to the bar, Deanna heads to the restroom to “freshen up.” I go to the bar.
“You get him home okay?” Vicky asks.
“Yeah. No problem. Did Bruce cover his tab?” I ask. The last thing they need if they’re struggling to pay insurance premiums is a running bar tab.
She shrugs. “He comes in with cash every night. I let him drink until it’s gone.” I must give her a look because she throws a hand in the air. “Hey, the way I see it, if I don’t give him what he wants, he’ll either A) drive the twenty minutes to Crazy Eights over in Jonestown, or B) he’ll buy a bottle at Hank’s Liquors and polish it off on his own. Either one is a worse scenario than drinking here where I can keep an eye on him.”
She’s right. This way, he’s drinking less and driving only a few blocks.
Deanna comes out of the restroom and quirks her head at our table. I nod and turn back to Vicky. “Let’s try this again. A glass of your house cabernet and a Bud.”
She fixes our drinks and hands them over the bar to me. “On the house, since you barely touched your last ones.”
“Thanks, Vicky.”
I take the glasses and head to where Deanna is sitting with her back to me. I set her wine in front of her.
“So, I feel like I need to check in with you about this whole thing,” I say with a flick of my wrist between us.
She cocks her head at me in a question. “What ‘whole thing’?”
“Us,” I say, then take a long swallow off my beer. “I’ve got to find a job, which may end up being in Nebraska for all I know. I’m not really in a place where I’m looking for anything long term.”
A smile pulls at her painted lips. “And you’re afraid I am.”
It’s not a question, but I find myself squinting. “I just felt like I needed to be up front here. I don’t want any misunderstandings.”
“We’re good, Marcus.” She runs a finger around the rim of her wine glass. “I’m not even sure where I’ll be come summer. I don’t see why that should stop us from having a good time while we’re both still into it.”
“Okay,” I say with a nod. “We’re good.”
We polish off a few more drinks, and I’m just ordering another round when Brenda walks through the door.
“Hey, darlin’” I say, holding up my fist for a bump. But when I see who walks in behind her, my blood freezes.
My ex-best friend Nate is standing there all smug, with his signature dimpled grin.
I’m out of my chair so fast it topples over. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Just hanging out with a friend,” he says, laying a hand on Brenda’s back.