"He knows."
"Duke doesn't call me on a Saturday night."
He slid his thumb across the screen and lifted the phone to his ear.
I sat back on the platform.
A minute ago, I'd been on a roof above Hartsdale with the warmth of his mouth still on mine. A minute ago, I'd been, for the first time in seven years, on a date with a man who asked me about my marriage straight through the front door and waited for the whole answer.
I watched his face.
Whatever Duke was saying on the other end of the line, Easton's face was already gone.
Kissing him on that water tower felt like the first true thing I'd done in years.
The phone ringing was the second.
CHAPTER 12
Easton
Duke didn't open with anything.
NoFord. Nobrother. No apology for the timing. Just a beat of breath on the line and then his voice, flat in a register I hadn't heard since a structure on Pine Street last winter when we'd pulled a man out who didn't make it.
"It's Penny. You need to come now."
"Duke."
"She's on the rug by the back door. She's breathing. She's not right. I called Caldwell's emergency line. He's at his daughter's in Albany. Said get her to Hudson Valley."
"How long has she been like that?"
"Don't know. I came in twenty minutes ago. She didn't get up."
I was already on my feet.
"I'm coming."
"Drive carefully. She's stable for now. Don't put yourself in a ditch."
I shut the phone.
Duke had texted me at six. He'd been at the pinball machine in his basement for two weeks running, finally cornered the right flipper coil, and he wanted to come grab the soldering iron offthe workbench in my garage. I told him to let himself in. He had a key for that kind of thing. I had one of his for the same.
Duke
Out where, brother? he'd written back.
Easton
Out, I'd told him.
Duke
Out where, Ford?
Easton
