Page 52 of Old Flames

On the walk over to Duncan Street, among a swirl of fresh tourists, still disoriented and confused over the idiosyncrasies of Duval during the day, Vicky peeled away from Matty’s side and caught up with him. “Hey, handsome.”

“Hey, you.”

“We don’t have much time, so I’ll make this quick.”

“God, I’ve always wanted someone to say that to me,” he said. “What’ve you got?”

“Some insight on my best friend. I see you’re struggling.”

“Vicky . . .” he said. “It’s complicated.”

“You have no idea how complicated it is,” Vicky said.

“Alright. Enlighten me.”

“Here’s how I see it.” She linked an arm around his. “She likes you, but she’s scared. Don’t take it personally.”

“It’s hard not to.”

“Since she lost her mother, she’s been trapped in grief,” Vicky explained. “A part of her died, too.”

Leo understood grief, but he was certain there was more to it than that. Only it felt wrong to discuss with Jules’s friend topics that they hadn’t even touched. Yet, he pressed on. “Is she seeing anyone?”

He hated himself for asking, but the question was there, impossible to ignore, like a bug on butter.

“There was this one guy, Bobby . . .” she said.

The name dropped before his feet, a log on the road. He nearly tripped and smashed his face.

“Don’t worry. It wasn’t serious,” Vicky assured him. “It’s over. She hasn’t mentioned him in weeks, not since the apartment fire.”

“Tell me about the fire. This is the first I’m hearing of it.”

“Really?”

Vicky launched into the story of a housewarming party gone awry, which ended with Bobby staying over. Whatever she said after that, Leo didn’t hear it. He wasn’t a violent guy, and he’d never wanted to punch anyone until now.

“Is that what’s troubling her?” he asked. “The damage to the new apartment?”

“Jules couldn’t care less,” Vicky answered. “She’s been dragging out those renovations. It’s like having bought the place, she doesn’t want to live there. I feel bad because my parents encouraged her to be a homeowner. But you can’t do anything before you’re ready.”

Leo was glad to learn that they had one thing in common: They were both adrift like deadwood, washed up in Key West.

“None of that is important,” Vicky said, refusing to be dragged off topic. “Here’s what I want you to know. Jules had it tough, she can’t take more letdowns. If you’re not ready for the uphill climb, walk away. It’s okay if you’re not up for the challenge. No one will judge you.”

That sounded judgmental as hell to Leo, but he, too, wouldn’t be dragged off topic. “Tell me what you mean by ‘had it tough.’” She’d lost her mother, but what else?

“Can’t get into it,” she said. “And it’s not really the point. I want you to know that she’s more fragile than she looks.”

They walked in silence for a bit while Leo categorized and filed away in emotional pockets everything he’d learned. “Alright,” he said, finally. “Since we’re trading in information, I should tell you something about Matty.”

Vicky crinkled her thin brows as if to say she knew everything there was to know about Matty and there was nothing he could tell her that she hadn’t already cataloged in the database of her mind. But she played along. “Okay, tell.”

“He doesn’t think he deserves nice things. And you’re the nicest thing of them all.”

“I’m a thing? What a sweet compliment!”

“No, I meant—”