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‘Yeah,’ I say, starting up the car. ‘Great. We’ll talk.’
I bet I can guess whatshewants to talk about.
What happened back there in the watchtower. The way I treated her afterward. Practically blaming her for starting the fire.
It was wrong of me. I know that. But that doesn’t change anything. Not really.
I can’t let myself get drawn away from my work like that. Especially now, more than ever. I’ve got old debts to repay, in more ways than one.
We arrive at the diner in silence.
Addison gets out the car first and I pause to take a deep breath. Right. Here goes.
I’m not such a dick that I don’t help her into the diner when I notice how much she’s limping. I was caught up in all the stuff with the sheriff so much before that I didn’t realize how bad her ankle must be feeling. I put my arm around her and try to remind myself to keep my distance.
It’s kind of a rule I’ve made for myself ever since Tyson.
Never get close to anyone.
That’s part of the reason I got Eric. Dogs make good companions. Dogs are safe. Dogs don’t twist your heart into tiny little pieces, make you behave in ways you never thought possible… Much as I love that nose-licking mutt.
‘I haven’t been in a proper diner like this for so long,’ Addison says as we enter.
‘New York can’t be all that if it doesn’t even have diners,’ I say, somewhat abrasively.
‘Oh, itdoeshave them,’ she retorts. ‘It’s just… if I want a burger, I go to Virginia’s. If I want a milkshake: Harlem Shake. If I want pizza: Little Italy. If I want cheesekcake —’
‘Stop that, for the love of fucking Christ,’ I growl. ‘Makes my head hurt just thinking about it. If I want a damn good meal — whatever I wanna eat — I come here. Simple. And ifyouwant one too, I suggest you quit the travel guide shtick.’
That was a little harsh, yes, but when I’m about to buy her dinner, I don’t exactly want to hear a list of all the places she’d rather be.
‘Actually, I think it’s kind of cute in here,’ she says, brightening. ‘All this chrome, and the baby blue vinyl seats. A jukebox too! So great. I should put a tune on!’
Is she being sarcastic now or what?
‘Let’s take a seat in a booth by the window,’ I say, pointing to the seats that are patched with the least black duct tape. Addison takes a menu and studies it quietly.
‘What do you want?’ I ask. ‘It’s on me.’ I almost say, It’s on Daddy.
Keep your head in the game, idiot.
Considering what I’m about to tell her, buying her a burger is the least I can do.
‘No, no, I wouldn’t dream of it,’ she says, ‘not when you’ve been looking after me as your guest. Let me…’ Her face drops all of a sudden. I’m guessing she’s just remembered how much money she has left in her purse. And she’s about to need every last dime.
‘Well, you know, my mom always used to say, you should never look a gift horse in the mouth.’
‘I’m not sure that’s really applicable here,’ I say. I can’t help myself from laughing.
‘Sure it is. You’re giving me the gift of dinner, which makes you the gift horse, and your mouth is…’ She trails off, blushing. ‘I have no idea what that phrase means.’
I fix her with an intense look, and say: ‘You’ve never spoken about your mom before.’
She looks out the window, across the car park. ‘She died when I was six. Pneumonia. It wasn’t easy.’
‘Sorry to hear that,’ I say, and then, quietly, I add: ‘My mother died when I was a teenager. Fell off a balcony. Five stories high.’
Her eyes return to me, wide and moist. ‘Oh my god, Finn. I’m so sorry.’
