Chapter 18
Lunch is strained and brief. Sammie’s face is splotchy and pink from crying. She pushes her salad around, before finally getting up from the table completely.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“I can’t sit here and eat like everything is fine. I’ll meet you at home.”
“Sammie—”
“Stop!” She rounds on me, a few people turning at her raised voice.
Austin puts a hand on the small of my back. “Hey, Red, let her go.”
I inhale deeply and take a sip of water. As soon as she’s gone, I remember something I’ve forgotten to be worried about.
“Wait, Austin, was it really him at the door last night?”
Austin dusts his hands off and gives me a grim look. “It was him.”
“Him who?” asks Matt.
“Him Johnny,” I answer.
“No. What the hell is he doing here?”
Austin is staring at a spot on the table. A rare glint of intensity in his face. “I told him she wasn’t around. But obviously he heard about Babe. He didn’t believe me.”
We all go quiet then.
Johnny was, is, always has been, always will be, the last thing Sammie needs.
Matt shudders. I know he’s remembering that night. I think we all are.
“Did he say … what he wanted?” asks Matt.
“I didn’t let him speak.”
My lizard brain lights up at his masculine protectiveness. I ignore it and flag down the server for the check.
She comes over and lowers her voice. “Your bill has been taken care of.”
“Taken care of?” I repeat.
“Dusty,” she explains. “He took care of it.”
We all look at each other. We know Dusty was fond of Babe, and vice versa.
“Thanks so much.” I pull a twenty out from my pocket and hand it over.
She tries to reject it and I bully her into accepting it.
Once she goes, I catch sight of the rest of the cash in my wallet.
All the cash I’d brought with me. The two-hundred-something I used for groceries yesterday, to tip the athletic club bartender—returned.
I am frozen, staring at it.
If there’s anything I’ve learned in my adult life, it’s that money does not simply appear from nowhere, and once you’ve spent it, it’s gone.
“Should we try to see about getting a cab out of here later on?” Matt wipes crumbs off Nora’s front. “For the airport.”
It seems we are now starting to be in total denial that something is going on. No longer a reasonable doubt, just full-on rejection.
“I have the truck, I’ll drive you,” Austin says.
“That’s nice, thanks, Austin.”
I’m following behind them, still unable to speak.
Once out front, Austin looks up at the sky. “But we should probably make sure the bridge is open. Looks like it might storm again.”
Unlike yesterday, I believe him.