“You’re meeting me.”
My eyes widen in horror. “You catfished me?” I hiss.
The waitresses in the mostly empty coffee shop are bored. Andreas and I look like drama they can gossip to their girlfriends about over wine this weekend.
“I want my money.” He grabs my arm. “And you’re going to give it to me. Now.”
I wrench my arm away and turn as much as I can in my seat.
The waitresses look apprehensive. Are they calling the police?
I smile at them, smile at Andreas.
Everything is fine. All under control.
“I think if we work together, we can figure something out.”
“I have figured it out,” my ex sneers. “You pay me what you owe.”
“Sure, sure, let’s get a snack and talk about it.”
Andreas starts to settle down, but I’m amped up, on edge, out of my depth.
Even though I can’t stand McCarthy, I wish he was here to save me.
22
MCCARTHY
So she went back to him.
Why I’m surprised, I don’t know.
Why I’m hurt, I don’t want to investigate. Though “hurt” isn’t really the right word.
I’m crushed.
It’s like suddenly I’m a kid again and my mother is crawling back to my father, even though she said that we were all going to escape, that we’d never have to see him again. Except suddenly our dad is in the crumbling kitchen of the camper while Salinger desperately tries to keep his attention away from us younger kids.
Betrayal.
If she wants to go back to him, that’s her problem.
I pace through my penthouse, wishing it wasn’t so empty then wishing I didn’t care.
The light is on in my study. I slow down and ease into the room.
“I am not seeing the progress I expect. In fact, I am seeing the opposite.”
And now I long for the empty silence.
“You’re in my chair, Sally.”
“My older brother doesn’t move.”
“I’d ask what the hell is wrong with you, but I don’t want to waste the energy.” Salinger leans forward.
“And I’d ask what the hell is wrong with you, but I already know you’re a micromanaging piece of shit.” I sprawl out on the couch in my study like I’m not bothered he’s commandeered my chair.
