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“Yes.”
Shrugging, he smiled a bit, then launched into a tale about how his grandfather had been born poor and worked and worked until he had enough money to buy a small company that primarily manufactured fences for farmers; how his father had taken that small company and turned it into one that sold regionally and now, nationally; how that modest company had just exploded in sales over the last few years; how his father was a salesman’s salesman, a great guy all around. While he talked, Zora led him over to a bank of chairs that was somewhat isolated from the rest of the group. Anne returned with her glass of punch but looked like she didn’t know how to rejoin them now that they were seated. Clarice Billings glanced over at them with narrowed eyes, as well, but Zora ignored them both. They could think Zora was moving in on territory that belonged to Anne. It may or may not be true. Zora hadn’t decided yet.
But blue wasn’t the only color Zora liked.
She had a great preference for green, too.
* * *
“You ready?” Penske asked in Bailey’s ear; he’d sneaked up behind her causing her to jump.
She’d been talking to—more like listening to—Principal Kiefer, Anne Reade, and Clarice Billings, who’d been in a confab of sorts, but who’d all looked a little tense. Most of that tension seemed to emanate from Anne, whose body language was stiff and indignant; the way her eyes kept being pulled magnetically toward Zora and Mr. Timmons sitting by themselves in some kind of tête-à-tête answered the question of why without it being asked.
Principal Kiefer was telling Miss Billings about several new teachers at the high school who’d gotten in trouble with some of the parents because they’d allowed their students to leave the school grounds to march in a protest against school shootings and therefore guns.
“It’s a very hot button,” Kiefer was saying, “as Bailey well knows, being a peacekeeper, right?”
Bailey was still thinking about Delta and Amanda’s dustup, and how they’d left a few minutes apart from each other, so she wasn’t paying particular attention. She realized Kiefer was looking at her. She was irked. He’d been trying to engage her in conversation all evening, maybe as a way to assuage his guilt. She could have told him she didn’t care what he did or didn’t do.
She could hear Penske breathing directly behind her. “Gun control? Yes. It’s a very hot button,” he answered for her.
“How do you feel about it?” Miss Billings asked Bailey. “You carry a gun.”
“Regulation,” Bailey responded. The last thing she wanted was to get drawn into a political discussion. And what the hell was Penske doing now? Blowing gently on her nape? She wasn’t sure if she was annoyed or slightly thrilled. Justin Penske was not the kind of guy for her, but it felt good to be on a man’s radar, nevertheless.
What is the kind of guy for you?
“But how do you feel about it?” Billings pressed.
Bailey met her gaze. Miss Billings had left West Knoll High years earlier, fairly soon after their graduation and Carmen’s death. Some people believed she felt responsible for not saving Carmen, and sure, Bailey could believe that was part of it, but Miss Billings’ career had thrived over the years, and she was now working at a small, conservative, private college on the outskirts of Laurelton, and it was rumored she was up for a job with a Pac-12 school.
“Oh, don’t put Bailey on the spot,” Penske drawled, smiling at the trio of school teachers and administrators. “This is fun, right? We’re all here for fun.”
Principal Kiefer slid a look at Miss Billings, who seemed to want to say more, but then smiled and let it go. Anne Reade’s gaze kept returning to Zora and Mr. Timmons. Bailey wasn’t even sure she was in the moment.
“I’m heading out,” Penske said, giving Bailey a wink.
Bailey hesitated, not quite sure what that meant. Were they going to dinner?
She followed behind him after a brief hesitation in which she felt like Miss Billings and Anne Reade were regarding her with unspoken questions. She didn’t know exactly what she wanted, but she was done with the reunion.
Outside, Penske was already clicking his remote to unlock his SUV, which flashed its lights at him. The last fingers of cool evening light were receding, striping the hotel parking lot as the sun set behind the hotel’s upper floors.
“How about Danny O’s?” Penske said as he waited for her to reach him.
Danny O’s was a twenty-four-hour pancake restaurant on the outside of West Knoll, about as far from the golf club as you could get and still be inside the city limits. It had been, and still was, a popular high school hangout for teenagers on the west side of the Willamette.
“Sure,” Bailey said, somewhat disappointed. What did you expect? That this was real a date?
“I’ll meet you there,” Penske said and climbed into his vehicle.
Bailey followed in her blue Ford Focus, given to her by her father. She found herself reflecting on Ronald Kiefer some more. He might still be West Knoll High’s principal, but luckily he’d never fully become Bailey’s stepfather. She was still mad at her mom about it all, but okay . . . what was, was. She needed to get over it.
But that’s what everyone had told her about Carmen, too. She needed to get over it. And maybe she was being somewhat obsessive. But it also felt important not to forget, not to let her best friend disappear into the past.
Danny O’s shared a parking lot with an Irish bar called Lundeen’s that was a few grades down from the twenty-four-hour diner. Lundeen’s spilled its drunken bar closers into the parking lot in the wee hours of the morning, and a good number of them staggered into Danny O’s to sober up before driving home. In the past, teenagers tried to talk the barflies into buying them booze, but a few stings with officers posing as kids and catching the adult suppliers had pretty much taken care of that issue.
Bailey pulled around the back of Lundeen’s as all the spots closest to Danny O’s were taken. Penske had managed to squeeze his SUV between two cars, each of them a bit over the line.
