21. Lance #2
He dresses in clothes I’ve lent him, and I drive him to the Fairhaven Police Department, where we give our fingerprints and DNA samples, go over our preliminary statements, sign them, and hand over a copy of Alice’s email.
By the time we’re done, it’s already evening and I realize that neither of us have had a bite to eat since early this morning.
I slump over my steering wheel and I’m surprised when Jonny rubs my back. I turn my neck and smile at him.
“You know what I want right now?” I ask. “I want to take you to Waffle House and have so many carbs I’ll have to be rolled home.”
“Waffle House?” I can hear the surprise in his voice. “I haven’t been to one of those in fifteen years at least.”
I straighten, embarrassed. He’s been in India eating jasmine rice and drinking tea that smells like orange blossoms. I need to up my game here. He’s not the same as he was when he was a teenager.
“It sounds great,” he says.
I am glad it’s dark in my Jeep, because I don’t want him to see that I’m smiling so hard it hurts. “My treat,” I say.
A slight hesitation. “I’ll accept that, as long as I can do something nice for you later.”
“Anything you like.”
The Waffle House isn’t that crowded, but the only booths available are next to the window. My phone buzzes as I’m sitting down, and I shoot off a quick text.
“Everything okay?” Jonny says.
“My mother heard through the grapevine that I was at the police station and wants to know what the hell is going on. I just told her I was okay and had gone to Waffle House.”
“Small towns,” Jonny muses. “It’s amazing how fast news travels. Discovering that everybody knows everybody else, and they all know you—it’s awkward.”
“Like Krista.”
“Especially people like her. I feel like the fires just reset me. Ask me anything about India, though.”
“I will. I want to hear everything. I don’t even know where to start.”
“Same here,” he admits. “Tell me about where you served. I can’t even imagine the life you lived in the Corps.”
I start talking and am only interrupted by the waitress, who takes our order and returns with drinks we ignore.
Jonny is giving me his whole attention and I feel on top of the world.
He asks about the Middle East, about Japan, about my friends on the base, my most dangerous assignments, and Basic.
Each question leads to another, like he’s been storing them up for years, and I am lost in the pure need to share every bit I can think of with him, and collect the bits he offers in return.
It’s the most exhilarating conversation I’ve had in years.
My mother’s voice interrupts us. “Why the hell did I have to hear that you were at the police department from Ellie Hopkins?” I hear, and I look up in surprise. “And why don’t you check your text messages?”
“Mom?”
“Mrs. Broussard?” Jonny says.
She glances at him and does a literal double-take. “Parker?”
“I’m going by my middle name. Jonny.”
She slides into the booth next to me and stares at him openly. “You’re back in town? Of course you’re back in town. I can see you’re back in town.”
“Came as soon as I read the group text,” Bree announces, approaching the table. She slides in next to Jonny. “So, why have you been arrested?” She glances at Jonny. “Hey. I’m his sister. Wait. Aren’t you Parker Bishop? Holy shit, you’ve had a hell of a glow-up. Are you why he was arrested?”
My mother picks up her phone. “Hey Shelley. Your kid’s with my kid. They were both arrested and they’re at the Waffle House on White Church Road. See you soon.” She hangs up.
“Mom, there’s no other Waffle House in town. Why did you say that?”
“Because there used to be one on Myrtle School Road and she would remember that.” She looks at her phone. “Your father is two minutes away.”
“How do you know my aunt Shelley?” Jonny asks.
“She’s in my book club. Which I’m missing, by the way.”
“You hate your book club,” Bree counters. “You never read the book.”
“Is there any other person you can possibly invite to this Waffle House?” I ask. “I think Aunt Chrissie’s probably not doing anything right now.”
“She’s not driving all the way from Charlotte just because you can’t keep yourself out of jail.”
“We’re not going to jail!” Jonny protests. “We just discovered a dead body.”
My mother looks poleaxed. “Do what now?”
“If this is what’s going to happen,” I say, “I need to switch places with Bree, so you can all cross-examine us properly.”
The waitress puts waffles, bacon, and sausage on the table. “You folks still deciding on what you want?” she asks the two women.
“They’re not staying,” I insist.
“Sausage, eggs, and cheese grits,” Bree says, settling in next to my mother.
“Bree, no. Mom. Tell her. Healthy eating happens at home.”
“Just coffee for me,” Mom says. “And two eggs, bacon, and hash browns, scattered, smothered, and covered, and the All-Star Breakfast.”
“Who’s the All-Star Breakfast for?”
“Your father!”
“Oh my God. Seriously?” I put my head on the table. Jonny rubs my back.
“Well, excuse me that I am a mother who is deeply distressed. That demands carbs. Oh! There’s your father!” She waves to him.