Page 13 of Wicked Games

I change into jeans and a clean t-shirt and put socks and my running shoes on. Avery’s idea is a good one and I snag a pullover. It might be cooling off by the time we walk back. It’s about two miles to town and I worry that it’s too far, but Avery didn’t say she couldn’t handle it and I hope she would have said something if she’d have trouble.

She beat me outside and she’s wearing similar clothing to mine: denim capri pants, a V-neck t-shirt, a hoodie tied around her waist, and a purse, the strap across her body and tucked between her breasts. Her tennis shoes are the same brand as mine, and like a teenage boy high on hormones, this pleases me immensely.

We set out on the side of the road, not speaking. I like this part, the silence, but not because I don’t have anything to say. I could dump months of pain onto her, but we have all summer. For now, I want to get a feel for if what’s happening between us could be something to pursue when we’re back in Ashfield. She might feel the electricity between us, but that doesn’t mean she wants anything to do with it, and she won’t if I rush her. But I also need to make sure that if she wants what I’m offering, I can follow through.

“Have you eaten here before?” I ask as we walk up to the diner. The town looks quaint, flowers in giant planters decorating the sidewalk and evergreen trees towering behind the buildings. I didn’t look around when I went grocery shopping, but I’d like to, maybe with Avery, sometime.

“Oh, no. Eating alone in a public place isn’t something I’ve tackled yet.”

“Right. I’m sorry. I guess I’m not too eager to do that either.” I hold the door open for her and we step inside.

Customers seat themselves, and I point to a booth in the corner. Avery nods and weaves around the tables ahead of me, people looking at us over their meals and probably wondering who we are. I’m fortunate I haven’t been recognized, but one day word will get out I’m here and my privacy will go to hell. She slides in, sets her purse on the bench next to her, and looks around.

The place looks like any small-town diner I’ve ever been to, but that’s not saying a lot. Red vinyl booths along the walls, chrome and red vinyl tables in the middle. There’s a counter that has matching stools bolted to the floor in front of it, and if we would have sat there, we could have watched the cook prepare our meals. The booth is fine, and I wiggle two menus out from between the wall and a condiment holder.

“Pick your poison,” I say, pushing one toward her.

She grimaces. “I hope not. I already have enough going on and I don’t need to add food poisoning to the list.”

“How are you feeling after all that?” I ask, but an older woman wearing a red polo shirt, jeans, and a white apron comes by just then and sets two red plastic cups of ice water and two paper-wrapped straws at the edge of the table.

“My name’s Marie and I’ll be your server. Can I get you something else to drink? We have Coke products, tea, coffee. Lemonade.” She takes a pad and pen out of her apron.

“Oh, water’s good for now, thanks,” Avery says, picking up a straw and peeling the wrapper off it.

“Same, thanks,” I say.

“Okey-dokey. Be back in a few to take your order.” Marie walks away.

“I’m all right, and that’s probably all I’ll be for a long time,” Avery says, answering my question. “How about you?”

“I was thinking that on the way here. That this might be all there is.”

A corner of her mouth lifts up. “I don’t think forever, but you can’t expect to get over something like that in such a short amount of time. You lost your family, Seth. You need to take time and mourn.”

“I don’t know which to choose.”

“I understand.”

“You didn’t say who the person close to you was that passed away. You don’t have to if you don’t feel like talking about it.” I want her to, though. I want to know everything about her.

“My sister. We were pretty close. She lived in Ashfield too, and we hung out a lot.”

“Christ. I’m sorry. Was she your only sibling?”

“Yeah. Our parents live in California. After Darren said he wanted a divorce, I thought about moving out there. I still might, but I just signed a twelve-month lease. I can write anywhere so there’s not much keeping me in Minnesota, you know? Now that she’s gone.” She flicks her gaze around the room and spots Marie standing at a table chatting with an older couple. “We better decide what we’re going to order.”

I open my menu and hope it hides my disappointment, but I tell myself there’s nothing to be disappointed about. She’s here for a year, if she’s locked in a lease, and that’s more than enough time to figure out where this is going to go. I can’t be all in. It’s too fast, too soon, and she needs her space too.

“Was she married?” I ask, scanning the menu. I haven’t had an appetite, eating just so I don’t die, but today the selections look good and I decide on a bacon cheeseburger and fries.

“Yeah. He calls sometimes, well, more than sometimes, and asks how I’m doing. He misses her a lot, obviously, but I think once the shock wears off he won’t need to talk to me so much. He hasn’t gone back to work yet, and when he does, that will help.” She closes her menu. “Do the cops have any idea who kidnapped Theo?”

“No, they don’t have a fucking clue. It’s been four months, and I doubt they’ll find anything now. The bastards went underground and were smart enough to stay there.”

“Were they able to keep the ransom money?” she asks.

Marie walks toward us, holding her pad and pen.