She nodded.
And kept nodding.
Small, slow bobs of her head, like she was tryin' to talk herself into somethin' one nod at a time.
"Alright." I slapped my hands on my thighs and opened the door. "I gotta piss, so I'm'a head in."
I hopped out and had made it exactly three steps toward the entrance when I heard her door open behind me.
"Are you serious right now?" Her boots hit the pavement. "You were just gonna leave me?"
"Nah." I held the front door open and waited. "Knew you'd follow."
She stopped in front of me, squintin' up with an expression that was equal parts annoyed and relieved, which on Calvin was basically a love letter. "Excuse me?"
"You're like a little puppy dog." I grinned down at her. "Just followin' me around everywhere I go."
She walked through the door. "I'm sorry—are you referring to me, or do you need someone to hold a mirror up so you can repeat that into it?"
The door swung shut behind us.
And just like that, we were inside.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-SIX
The walkdown the hall was longer than it looked from the entrance. Or maybe it was just me.
Brody's hand found the small of my back somewhere between the front desk and the corridor—not steering, not pushing. Just there. The same way he was always just there, like it cost him nothing. Like it was the most natural thing in the world to show up in a parking lot in Livingston because someone called and couldn't get out of their truck.
I didn't know how he did that. Showed up without making you feel like you owed him for it.
I was starting to think it wasn't a skill so much as just… him.
I stopped in front of the door that readJ. Calvinand knocked.
A beat of silence. Then, from inside?—
"Goddammit, Doris, I told ya I ain't comin' to bingo. You want a roll in the hay, you'll haveta find me after."
Behind me, Brody made a sound that was definitely a laugh converted at the last second into a cough.
The door swung open.
An old man looked out at me from under a pair of eyebrows that had apparently decided to keep growing long after the rest of him had stopped. His strong jaw had probably been stubborn since birth and had only gotten more so with time.
He looked at me for a long moment.
"You ain't Doris."
"No, sir," I said.
He slid his gaze to Brody, standing quietly behind my left shoulder, then back to me. His expression gave little away—except, maybe, a hint of recognition.
"But ya are 'bout sixteen years late, I reckon."
My eyes went wide. "You—I?—"
"C'mon." He was already turning back into the room. "Bring the Lancaster boy with ya."
