based on my experience—”
“I killed a man,” I said quickly.
She froze. “Really?”
“Yep,” I said. “With a salad fork. So you see why I can’t go back to Fletcher now.”
Her shoulders relaxed. “Yeah. I can see how that would be a problem for you.”
“Well, yeah. I’m a killer. I kill people all the time, usually with some sort of kitchen utensil, although in a pinch, a tire iron will do. You might wanna sleep with one eye open.”
She kept a straight face. “Well, I’m sorry I misjudged you by assuming you’d make something up.”
I lifted my coffee mug in salute. “You’ll want to be careful about that in the future. I’m not the kind of girl you want to tick off. Especially not when there are spatulas around.”
“Thanks for the heads up.”
We shared a smile and despite myself, I found myself warming up to Jess. A little.
The waitress slid the check onto our table and Jess grabbed for it. I would have argued, but outside of that first tank of gas, I’d picked everything up so far. Jess swiveled as though she was about to get up, then turned to face me.
“I have something,” she said. “Digs gave it to me, and told me to give it to you when you sobered up, but I didn’t feel like the time was right. I think now, maybe, the time is right.”
“What is it?”
She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a long, sealed letter envelope. On the front, in Luke’s chicken-scratch hand, was simply Eejie . Even if I hadn’t recognized Luke’s handwriting, I would have known it was him. He was the only person to ever call me Eejie.
“I’m gonna go pay this,” Jess said, sliding the check under her hand as she rose from the table. I think I mumbled something at her, but mostly, I just stared at the letter in my hands, unable to figure out if it was a nice gesture or a dirty trick. Either way, I wasn’t going to read it. I didn’t need to. I knew what was inside. On the first line Dear Eejie followed by some joke, probably one about a wedding, a sly way to encourage me to come and see my mother, to tell me in our own private shorthand that he was fine with my coming and that life was too short for me to not mend things with Mom, because that was the kind of guy Luke was. It didn’t matter, though. He may have survived the big train wreck intact, which I was glad for, but I was still hunched over and hobbling, and in no shape for a big reunion. I traced my fingers over the space where he’d scribbled my name, then folded the envelope in half and tucked it in my back pocket before going up to meet Jess at the register.
“So,” she said, shooting me a sideways glance as she handed the cashier a twenty. “What did it say?”
“Nothing,” I said. “Just an inside joke.”
She nodded, told the cashier to give the change to our waitress, and tucked her hand in my elbow, guiding me out of the diner.
“I think we need to have some fun,” she said.
***
“This is your idea of fun?” I asked, staring down at the cardboard tray in my arms as Jess stepped in front of me, her head darting from side to side like a dousing stick looking for water. The sickly sweet smell of six bags full of sausage McGriddles wafted up from the tray, and I turned my head.
“It’s harder to find them in the small towns,” she said as she hurried down a side street toward a large park.
“You know, it’s early, but I’m sure we can find a bar or something,” I said, shuffling behind her, raising the tray over my head and inhaling the fresh air.
“Alcohol is a depressant,” she said, marching down the road. “Random acts of kindness are a natural mood elevator. Like exercise. And better than any of those damn pills they’re putting everyone on lately.”
“Okay,” I said, thinking that maybe now was not the time to argue for the pills, although I had no doubt that at least one of us, if not both, could seriously benefit from a prescription or two.
The sidewalk ended, just
“I killed a man,” I said quickly.
She froze. “Really?”
“Yep,” I said. “With a salad fork. So you see why I can’t go back to Fletcher now.”
Her shoulders relaxed. “Yeah. I can see how that would be a problem for you.”
“Well, yeah. I’m a killer. I kill people all the time, usually with some sort of kitchen utensil, although in a pinch, a tire iron will do. You might wanna sleep with one eye open.”
She kept a straight face. “Well, I’m sorry I misjudged you by assuming you’d make something up.”
I lifted my coffee mug in salute. “You’ll want to be careful about that in the future. I’m not the kind of girl you want to tick off. Especially not when there are spatulas around.”
“Thanks for the heads up.”
We shared a smile and despite myself, I found myself warming up to Jess. A little.
The waitress slid the check onto our table and Jess grabbed for it. I would have argued, but outside of that first tank of gas, I’d picked everything up so far. Jess swiveled as though she was about to get up, then turned to face me.
“I have something,” she said. “Digs gave it to me, and told me to give it to you when you sobered up, but I didn’t feel like the time was right. I think now, maybe, the time is right.”
“What is it?”
She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a long, sealed letter envelope. On the front, in Luke’s chicken-scratch hand, was simply Eejie . Even if I hadn’t recognized Luke’s handwriting, I would have known it was him. He was the only person to ever call me Eejie.
“I’m gonna go pay this,” Jess said, sliding the check under her hand as she rose from the table. I think I mumbled something at her, but mostly, I just stared at the letter in my hands, unable to figure out if it was a nice gesture or a dirty trick. Either way, I wasn’t going to read it. I didn’t need to. I knew what was inside. On the first line Dear Eejie followed by some joke, probably one about a wedding, a sly way to encourage me to come and see my mother, to tell me in our own private shorthand that he was fine with my coming and that life was too short for me to not mend things with Mom, because that was the kind of guy Luke was. It didn’t matter, though. He may have survived the big train wreck intact, which I was glad for, but I was still hunched over and hobbling, and in no shape for a big reunion. I traced my fingers over the space where he’d scribbled my name, then folded the envelope in half and tucked it in my back pocket before going up to meet Jess at the register.
“So,” she said, shooting me a sideways glance as she handed the cashier a twenty. “What did it say?”
“Nothing,” I said. “Just an inside joke.”
She nodded, told the cashier to give the change to our waitress, and tucked her hand in my elbow, guiding me out of the diner.
“I think we need to have some fun,” she said.
***
“This is your idea of fun?” I asked, staring down at the cardboard tray in my arms as Jess stepped in front of me, her head darting from side to side like a dousing stick looking for water. The sickly sweet smell of six bags full of sausage McGriddles wafted up from the tray, and I turned my head.
“It’s harder to find them in the small towns,” she said as she hurried down a side street toward a large park.
“You know, it’s early, but I’m sure we can find a bar or something,” I said, shuffling behind her, raising the tray over my head and inhaling the fresh air.
“Alcohol is a depressant,” she said, marching down the road. “Random acts of kindness are a natural mood elevator. Like exercise. And better than any of those damn pills they’re putting everyone on lately.”
“Okay,” I said, thinking that maybe now was not the time to argue for the pills, although I had no doubt that at least one of us, if not both, could seriously benefit from a prescription or two.
The sidewalk ended, just
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