He heard the bathroom door open, but he sat still. In his eyes, he had done nothing wrong, so he didn’t owe her an apology. If she wanted to explain her actions, she could very well start at any time, and he would listen.
The door out into the hallway opened and closed, and he still didn’t jump up and run after her. Half an hour later, he got a text from her:I’m going home. An Uber is taking me to the airport in Lafayette, and I’m flying to Dallas. Uncle Jack is picking me up. Don’t worry.
He sent one back:Can we talk tomorrow?
He waited an hour, but nothing came back. Finally, he called Tripp.
“What’s going on? Aren’t you in Louisiana with Lottie? Why are you calling me?” Tripp said without even a simple hello.
“I did something wrong, and I can’t figure it out,” Knox replied and told him the whole story of what went on in the park.
“I would guess that she’s sensitive to that word, but why she wouldn’t even talk to you about it seems out of character for her. My advice is for you to go home tonight. I’m not leaving until tomorrow, and Lester is still here. I can have him fly down there and have you home before dark. You need to get this straightened out for your own peace of mind. If it’s over, then pack up your trailer and come back to Spanish Fort. You’ve finished your part of the framing job, right?”
“Yes, I have,” Knox answered. “I’ll get my things together. Text me the time when you talk to Lester. He’ll have to file flight plans and all that.”
At seven o’clock that evening, the small plane landed at the airport, and Lester met Knox at the rental car. “Things didn’t go so well, I guess?”
“No, and I have no idea what I did wrong,” Knox told him. “I thought things were going in that forever amen direction and then boom! She was mad at me and left to fly back on a commercial flight.”
“Well, son,” Lester laid his hand on Knox’s shoulder, “when we are dealing with the womenfolks, it’s not easy to figure out where or why we stepped in a big old mess, but you crawl up here in the copilot seat, and we’ll see what we can figure out. I might have some advice to give you, and I might not. I’m still doin’ my best to figure out my wife, and I been married to her forty years.”
“I’ll take any help you’ve got to give me,” Knox said.
Chapter 23
“What happened?” Jack asked Lottie. “Your red and swollen eyes mean that you have been crying. Was it out of anger or sadness? Do I need to fire Knox Callahan or shoot him?”
“A little of both, and now I’m embarrassed about the way I managed it,” Lottie said as she got into Jack’s truck. “We’ve been kidding about”—she opened the glove compartment and took out a McDonald’s napkin—“our first big fight, and then it happened, and I was so angry that I just took off.”
“Then I guess you need to talk to Knox about that, not me,” Jack said. “Hungry?”
“Yes, but I can’t swallow,” she answered.
Jack made a right-hand turn off the highway onto an exit with a sign advertising an ice cream store. “This must be serious. You eat when you are happy, when you are sad, and all in between. I’ve never known you to pass up food. I’m going to get a chocolate milkshake. What flavor do you want?”
“Vanilla.”
Jack got out of the truck and went inside. Tears flooded Lottie’s cheeks and soaked the paper napkin in her hand. “Iamboring. I’m like a plain old vanilla shake—nothing fancy for me like salted caramel or even orange pineapple,” she whimpered.
You are acting like a pouting child.Her mother’s voice popped into her head.
“Better to face the pain now, than later after…” She fished the last napkin from the glove compartment and dried her face. “The other shoe has dropped—just like it I figured it would.”
No, it didn’t drop. You took it off Knox and tossed it out the window. You made that choice, and now you can pay for the consequences.
“You could take my side. I’m your daughter,” Lottie argued.
Jack startled her when he tapped on the window. She rolled it down and took her milkshake from him and put it in the cupholder. “Drink that. Don’t look at it,” he said when he was back in the truck. “I’ll get after mine as soon as we’re back on the highway, and I didn’t order a vanilla. Last time I checked, you liked that one that tastes like an orange creamsicle, so that’s what you’ve got.”
“Thank you,” she muttered.
It seemed like Uncle Jack even knew she wasn’t boring.
Jack picked up his shake. “Your expression tells me that you are arguing with someone. Is it Knox?”
“No, it’s… I don’t want to talk about it,” Lottie said as she removed her shake from the cupholder and sucked down enough to give her a brain freeze.
“ You might as well get it off your chest,” he said. “I’m a good listener. Is it Knox?”
