Page 43

I suspect he’d like coffee and is trying to save money. I suspect he’d like a whole extra meal. He was in the water for hours this morning. If he was my friend, I could ask him. But he’s not my friend and he’s made that clear.

I take his menu and put in his order. Every time I glance over, he’s watching me, and he looks so hungry and alone that I finally can’t stand it. I swipe him a Danish and bring it over with coffee and juice.

“I didn’t order this,” he says.

“You look hungry,” I reply, already scurrying away. “It’s on the house.”

He says nothing as I refill his coffee, his juice, and deliver his meal. He just watches me and doesn’t say a word until I drop the bill on his table.

He pulls out his wallet. “Don’t listen to Donna. You don’t want to fucking teach.”

He rises from the booth without another word and walks away to pay at the register before his big frame edges through the door like GI Joe in a miniature dollhouse.

The restaurant feels emptier without him in it. I reach down to grab his plate. He’s left a tip under it equal to the size of his bill. I put it in my other pocket, away from the rest of my money, as if it’s special.

* * *

It would have been easy enough to casually bring up Luke’s visit to Danny—Luke got seated in my section this morning. It would have been easy enough for Luke to bring it up too—Stopped by your girlfriend’s place of employment, this morning. The food there sucks.

Yet neither of us do.

By the end of the week, I’m wondering if I read too much into it. I pull that twenty he left out of my dog-eared copy of Wuthering Heights and stare at it as if I might find a hidden message in its folds.

Maybe the question I should be asking isn’t if I read too much into it. It’s why I read too much into it, and what was I hoping it meant? Better yet, I should be thinking about what he actually said: Ignore Donna. It’s just…she makes it so hard. Her love, her investment in me, is like a warm coat you continue to wear indoors on a winter day. I can’t bring myself to shrug it off, even when I know I’ll just wind up colder in the long run. And every time I think about shrugging it off, she leans over and zips me up with her most loving smile.

“I’ve got some good news for you, Juliet,” she says over dinner. “I spoke to Miss Engelman. She teaches at an elementary school down in Santa Cruz. She said she can set up an internship for you there next year, assisting the music teacher.”

She beams at me as if she’s given me a gift, which makes me feel like I’ve missed something important. “An internship? Is it…paid?”

She frowns. “Well, no, it’s not paid. But if you’re living here, you don’t really need the job, do you? And Miss Engelman said there are actually scholarships for school employees. Once you’ve been there for a while you might be able to get them to cover some of your classes.”

I know I’m supposed to be grateful, but all I hear is I’ve arranged for you to work full-time, for free. You don’t need anything of your own because we’ve got you covered. It leaves me wanting to press my face deep into my plate and cry.

Across the table, Luke’s gaze meets mine, and something clenches deep in my stomach. He’s the only person in this house who’d think I was right to be upset. He may be the only person in this house, and maybe this state, who really gets me at all. And that should scare me, but it doesn’t. It’s just such a fucking relief to have someone understand.

17

NOW

I wake alone. The sun is pouring through the windows and the smell of coffee wafts toward me. I wonder, for just a moment, if last night was a dream. But there is an ache between my legs that is unmistakable.

God. How did that happen? What was I thinking?

But I wasn’t thinking, and that’s the problem. I just spread my legs for him like a fucking whore. He didn’t even have to ask.

Donna sits at the table alone, reading the paper. “Well, good morning, sleepyhead,” she says. “Luke is painting outside. Good day for it. Not too hot.”

I pour my coffee, barely able to meet her eye. How could I have done that, last night, in her home? In Danny’s home?

“I have an interview,” I reply. “I’ve got to get cleaned up.”

Get cleaned up and avoid Luke, both. I have no idea how I’m going to face him now.

“New York Times or something else?” she asks.

I give a small shake of my head. “Some dumb paper I’ve never heard of.” One of the ones Hilary set up, I don’t add. I don’t like Hilary and I don’t trust her motivations, nor do I trust her to run Danny’s House when Donna’s not around to monitor things…but who the hell am I to judge anyone’s motivations? No matter how bad Hilary is, she isn’t as bad as me.

“If you need anything in town, just give me a list,” I tell her. Hopefully this will postpone another of her forced trips with Luke for a day or two.