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Still sitting at her side, holding her hand, Jake watched her. He looked so handsome in his somber, too-snug suit, his hair brushed to a sheen and tied neatly back, his face shaved smooth and shiny. He wasn’t wearing a tie, and his black dress shirt was open just enough that the bull inked on his chest peeked out a bit. She reached out and brushed a finger over it.
“You ready, babe?” he asked.
The next stop in this ordeal of a day was Gertrude’s. Earlier, when she hadn’t been able to decide on a place for a wake and Katie had suggested the bar, she’d agreed because it was an answer, but she’d also fretted that her father’s friends wouldn’t be comfortable there.
Now that she knew her father had had only one real friend and that his wake would be made up of people who cared about her, Gertrude’s was the perfect place.
But would all these bikers be there, too? In her lesbian bar? That would be extremely interesting.
For the first time in a week, Petra felt herself really smile—not one she conjured to ease someone’s concern for her but a reaction to a flutter of pleasure.
Jake cocked his head and began to answer her smile with one of his own, but something must have caught his peripheral vision because he looked over her shoulder, and his expression made an abrupt U-turn from gentle to furious.
“No fucking way,” he muttered and brushed past her.
Curious, Petra turned to see what had him upset. He’d taken up what she could only think of as a defensive position, putting himself between her and whatever was coming. His legs were spread, his shoulders wide, his fists clenched.
He stood beside her father’s open grave. What danger could there be?
With one short step to the side, she saw. Dre was coming toward them.
They were dressed in their usual way, like they’d stepped off the set ofRebel Without a Cause, and held a humble bouquet of supermarket carnations. Their focus had been entirely on Jake, a snarl on their face that no doubt reflected the one on his. But then they saw her, and their expression softened.
They adjusted their path so they came directly to her. Jake adjusted his path to put himself in the way again.
“Jake, it’s okay.”
“That asshole is not getting near you.”
She’d had to tell him why her mouth was bruised, and by the time that conversation was over, she’d ended up telling him most of the details of that encounter with Dre. He’d actively disliked Dre before that; now she was pretty sure his feelings could best be described as ‘having a vendetta.’
She set her hand over one of his fists. “It’s okay. Just stay with me, and it’s okay. They can’t hurt me.” She saw Katie, Bex, and Maude and a few other mutual friends slowing down and paying attention as well.
When Dre was within a few feet of Jake, they stopped. “I just want to talk to her.”
Surprised at the calm in Dre’s voice, Petra tugged on Jake’s hand, and he finally moved to her side.
“Hi, Dre,” Petra said.
“Hi.” They took a deep breath and held the flowers out. “These are for you. I’m sorry about your dad. He was ... he was good.”
That was the closest thing to a eulogy her father had gotten. Petra felt something important break off her heart.
She took the flowers and tucked them in her arm. “Thank you. Thank you for coming, Dre.”
Dre nodded. Then, with a wary, sidelong look at Jake, they said, “I don’t know if Katie told you, but I’m leaving. I’m gonna try New York, I guess. Sold my bike and most of my shit and bought a plane ticket. I leave in a few hours.”
“What?” Katie hadn’t told her. Probably she figured Petra had enough pain and turmoil to deal with, and if so, she was right. Another piece of her heart was cracking away. Petra had held a hope that things between her and her best friend could be repaired. That hope was dying while they stood beside her father’s open grave. “Because of me?”
“No. Because of me. I can’t—” They stopped, gave Jake a look, then shook their head. “I want to go.”
“Okay.” Petra didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry you’re hurting, Dre.”
Dre laughed softly. “Back atcha, I guess.”
That response, which could sound flippant to someone who didn’t know Dre well, made Jake shift again and somehow seem to get bigger, more protective. It had sounded flippant to him, and he wanted to protect her even from words.
Dre gave him another wary look. “I just ... I wanted to say I’m sorry about your dad, and I wanted to say goodbye. So I’m done. I’m gonna go.”
