Chapter 2 #2
“He has a bad temper,” I explained. It would erupt if he came home and saw the strange car parked in front of his house and a strange man standing in his living room.
I needed to move this conversation along.
“Why did you come here today?” I asked again.
“And how?” I had never told him my last name and anyway, I wasn’t officially a resident.
I wasn’t on a lease and I didn’t directly pay any of the utility bills.
I didn’t get mail or receive paychecks at this address, either.
“I was thinking about what happened and how you stopped to help me,” he said.
“It felt like we were driving for a long time and I thought I remembered that you pointed out your house. This house.” He stared at the broken window and it seemed like he got more upset, because now I saw a very obvious sign that made my own heart beat harder: he clenched his hands into fists.
But he spoke normally. “It took a while to find it.”
“You mean, you went around searching? Searching for me?” I wondered, and he nodded. “Why?”
“You helped me,” he said. He sounded confused by that. “You stopped and picked up a strange man on the road.”
“I didn’t think you were a threat,” I said. My eyes flicked to his closed fists because I was thinking about that now. “I keep a knife in my bag and when I saw you, I put it in my lap.”
“Right. Right,” he said, nodding again. “You said you would use it on me.”
“I didn’t want to have to,” I assured him. “It would have been as a last resort.”
“This is so strange.” He moved to the couch but hesitated and didn’t sit down. Then he looked at the chairs at our table, one of which was missing the back part (it was now a stool). The other had a whole lot of tape around two of its legs and he didn’t sit there, either.
“It’s a little strange that you came to find me,” I agreed. “Were you angry that I left you that night? I felt bad about it but I really had to leave.”
“No, I’m not angry. I’m very grateful that you picked me up at all,” he answered. “I would have frozen to death.” He hesitated and looked at the couch again. It hadn’t been in great shape before Kolter had attacked it and it was much worse now. “Do you want to go somewhere?”
“With you?” It was a bad idea. Except I did want to know why he’d taken the time to look for this house and look for me. And Kolter could have shown up at any minute and seen that nice car…
“Why don’t you pull out of the driveway and wait on the shoulder while I get my shoes?” I suggested. “You can follow me to a restaurant that’s near here and we could talk at a table. They don’t care if you sit for a while.”
“Ok,” he said. Then he left, and I watched to see if he would drive away instead of parking. But he did go slightly farther down the road and he stopped his car on the shoulder. It would still look suspicious to my boyfriend, though, so I hurried to get socks and shoes.
I glanced again at myself in the glass next to the door.
If Kolter noticed that I was gone, I could tell him that I’d gotten a last-minute cleaning job, which had happened once when one of my regular people had thrown a party and wanted me to come in afterwards because the house had gotten so bad.
When he asked for proof, I could show him some of the cash I was already hiding under the plastic wood planks in the closet.
The only problem was the fact that he could see my location and he might notice if I turned off my phone…
I hesitated for a moment before I tossed it onto the couch, as if I’d forgotten it. I was playing with fire and I knew it, but I ran outside and got into my car.
I waved at Nolan’s tinted window as I passed and he pulled out and followed me to the little restaurant.
It was almost always empty and the people behind the counter were nice.
They would give you a cup and they didn’t care how much water you drank.
I turned into their parking lot, and I waved at the woman behind the counter as I slid into a booth.
Nolan followed me a moment later and sat across from me, but then turned and also looked toward the counter.
“Do you want anything?” he asked.
“No, thanks.”
“I think I’ll get a drink. Are you sure you’re not hungry? It’s on me.”
“Well, I wouldn’t mind some fries,” I admitted. “Thank you.” I watched him order and it took a bit. During that time, I lined up more questions and the first was the same thing I had wondered before. “Why did you come find me?” I asked when he returned.
“I told you. You picked me up and probably saved my life. I wanted to see if I was remembering it right and I wanted to say thank you.” He paused. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I think that it was the least that anyone could have done,” I said.
“If I were drunk on the side of the road, the best case scenario is that someone would pick me up and not rob or kill me. You didn’t have anything to rob and I wouldn’t have stabbed you.
I lived in an apartment where that happened and there was so much gore. ”
He looked at me for a moment, one eyebrow raised. “I hate to make a mess,” he said.
“Your cleaning lady must love you.” With a home the size of his, though, I bet that he used a team of people.
How long would it have taken me, solo, to do a place like that?
I did have some rich clients, but they didn’t own anything like Nolan’s house.
Even if they hadn’t reached that same level of wealth, though, their lives were still very different from mine.
Like, I couldn’t believe the things they bought and the things they threw away (I had gotten some great stuff from their trash).
I often shook my head at how they mistreated the belongings that they kept, from small issues (like never closing boxes of expensive crackers so that they went stale) to big problems (one of my clients had driven on a flat tire and bent her rim, because she didn’t want to stop and take the time to get it fixed). I wondered if Nolan was also careless.
“That’s an interesting shirt,” he said, and I looked down and read the words printed across my chest.
“I got this in a grab bag that I thrifted. I don’t have a lot of clothes so that’s why I still wear it, but I don’t really love hot moms.”
The woman at the counter delivered a tray to our table, and it wasn’t only a drink and an order of fries. There were also two cheeseburgers, onion rings, and a chocolate milkshake.
“I thought I might be hungry,” he mentioned. “Help yourself.”
I glanced at him, judging the situation, but he only looked back calmly. So then I did help myself to a fry but I was still slow and careful, in case this might have been a joke or a test about greediness. But it didn’t appear to be either one because he didn’t call me a pig or jerk the tray away.
Instead, he focused on a new task. He removed the lid from his fountain drink and also removed a flask from the inside pocket of his coat.
He poured a good helping of maple syrup-colored liquid into the soda, then screwed the top back onto the flask and put it away.
He swirled the mixture and took a long swallow—it was a long, long swallow, until the cup was almost empty.
He didn’t bother to ask for a refill from the woman at the counter before he took out the flask again and poured himself another helping.
He drank, put down the waxy cup, and closed his eyes for a moment.
When he opened them, he noticed me nibbling on the fry. “Don’t you want more than that?” he asked.
I did, and these burgers smelled delicious, too. I picked one up, unwrapped it, and it was quickly gone.
“Have something else,” he urged, so I also took down the onion rings. I was halfway through the next burger when I noticed that he hadn’t chosen anything for himself.
“Didn’t you say that you were hungry?” I asked. “Shouldn’t you put something in your stomach?” I meant something besides the mixed drink that he’d just guzzled.
“I’m fine. I don’t want anything.”
Well, it was up to him. At least today, he had a wallet and probably a phone, so I wouldn’t have to worry about how he would get home. And after my second cheeseburger, I was feeling pleasantly stuffed, so I was also fine. “Did you want to ask me anything else about that night?” I suggested.
“What were you doing? Where were you going when you came across me?”
“I didn’t have a destination. I was just driving around,” I answered.
“Just driving,” Nolan echoed. “Ok. I wondered how I ended up at Roy’s Tavern. You were there, too.”
“Yeah, I was. You had wanted me to take you to your house but when I looked up the address, it was just too far. So you suggested that bar and then you took a minute getting out of my car, and you invited me to come in with you.”
“Why did you?”
That was a good question. Why had I done that, when it had led to so many problems afterwards? Problems for me, for the furniture, the windows, the floor…
“I was worried about you but also, I wanted to do something different,” I said.
“You kind of get desperate, you know? Like you think, ‘Holy bells, this is terrible and I’m stuck in it for the rest of my life.’ And then you might feel a little panicked and decide, ‘I have to do something!’ Those thoughts could lead to acting crazy or stupid. ”
“That’s why you were out that night? To do something crazy or stupid?”
“Well…” I took another fry and dabbed it in ketchup as I decided the best way to explain. “Do you know much about baking?”
“No. Why?”