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“I have to be at the station,” he said. “Night shift.”
“Well, I just finished my shift, so I’m free,” Andy said. “Andrea?”
“Absolutely not,” Bobby cut in before I could reply.
I looked at him as if he had just said the most ridiculous thing ever. “Excuse me.”
“I’d rather prefer you stay at home,” Bobby said. “Stay low, until we’re absolutely sure Dennis isn’t going to do something stupid.”
“You mean, you want to lock me up, is that it?”
“No,” Bobby sighed. “I want you to be safe.”
“You’re being silly.”
“And frankly, you’re being naïve,” he shot back. “You’re the one who was terrified he’d come after you. Now, all of a sudden, you think you’re clear?”
“I didn’t say that,” I shot back. “Of course, I’m terrified.”
“Then start acting like it.”
I was beginning to fume. “Being scared is one thing, Bobby. But I’m not going to let it ruin my life.”
Bobby glared at me. “You left home two days ago,” he almost shouted. “Two days. And you’re already acting like you’re home free. I can’t protect you if I’m not with you.”
“I’m with her,” Andy suggested.
“Stay out of this, Andy,” Bobby shot, keeping his eyes locked on mine.
“No, don’t stay out of this,” Andrea said. “You sent him to our house yesterday to watch me while you were gone. What difference does it make?”
“You’re not exactly at the house, are you?”
“Because a door is going to stop Dennis.”
Bobby growled and threw up his hands in frustration. “You know what? Fine. Go. Whatever!” He turned to Andy. “Just make sure she’s home by ten.”
“Aye, aye,” Andy saluted, looking extremely uncomfortable.
“I have a curfew now?” I shot.
“Ten, Andrea,” Bobby hissed. “I’m serious.”
***
If anyone ever said the university crowd didn’t change Mansfield, then they had no idea what they were talking about.
Pub 32 was a small establishment when compared to the various bars and night spots in and around Hartford. However, the university crowd definitely made it look extravagant. The crowd also made me feel particularly old. Sitting in the corner booth that Andy claimed was reserved for the men and women of Mansfield Fire, I couldn’t help but watch the ‘youngsters’ go about their night, mixed in groups of various sizes, laughing and drinking and talking over the music as if their life depended on it.
It was exhilarating and tiring all at the same time.
Andy slid into the bench opposite mine and pushed me my beer. The cold glass was refreshing against the otherwise almost unbearable heat around me. I felt lucky that smoking had been banned indoors. I couldn’t imagine what this place would have been like with a cloud of suffocating tobacco smoke clogging up my lungs.
“Not the same as Hartford, but not bad, either,” Andy said, lifting his glass.
I smiled at him and raised my own in a silent toast, drinking a large gulp of the cold beer and smacking my lips in approval. He laughed, and I laughed along with him.
He was in his element here, as if he owned the bar himself. The minute we had walked in, the bartenders were already cheering him on, and one or two of the waitresses had given him quick hugs and pecks, as if welcoming a celebrity home. The photographs of Mansfield Fire that hung on the walls everywhere made me feel like I was in the company of a rock star, where everyone knew him on a first name basis, and probably admired him like a god. I couldn’t help but wonder if Bobby got the same treatment.
