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“Admit you planned this,” she accuses me. “And—let me guess—the front door is locked? Well, then I have no choice…”
I refrain from pointing out to her that I would, of course, follow her lead if she insisted.
But her sideways glance as we’ve taken our places in the front seats and the RAM’s engine starts with a hoarse roar is anything but annoyed.
With the iron hardness that only a woman possesses, she curls up on the leather upholstery, which is almost glowing thanks to the heated seats. Unfortunately, her silent approval fizzles out as I cross the town eastbound and switch to the left-turn lane at the height of the discount store.
Her body stiffens abruptly. The tension transfers to me. “Are you going up to Forest City?” she inquires. Purely rhetorically, of course, because the road only goes up to the part of town where she lives. “No, turn around!” Her voice sounds alarmed. “I told you that there is no way that I’m going back in the apartment!”
“You don’t have to,” I reassure her, “we’re just going to drive by and check on things.”
“I don’t know what you think you’re going to find,” she mumbles into her nonexistent beard. “I thought we clarified that there’s neither a dead body in the front yard nor a black body bag being loaded into a hearse…”
“We’ll just drive by and look, okay?” I try to reassure her. I take my foot slightly off the gas to let the Dodge drift around the steeply uphill 90-degree curve.
“But why?” she protests as we roll through the last patch of woods before the town sign.
I can’t tell her that for the life of me. All I know is that I have a weird gut feeling.So I silently put on the blinker and turn on her road as she snorts indignantly.
“There’s no way I’m getting out of this car!” she declares emphatically. “Just for the record!”
“Copy that!”I got it.
The RAM is now rolling at a walking pace past the six-family house with Celine’s apartment.
I look through the side window at the ivy-covered facade. My gaze wanders up to the frosted glass window on the second floor, behind which I suspect her bathroom, and I feel sick with sympathy.
“Well, satisfied?” she hisses at me as I make a U-turn at the end of the dead-end street. “All the windows are dark, and the apartment is silent—he’s probably squatting at his parents’ house, crying his heart out. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t get in!”
“Just calm down! I told you we were just looking…” Something catches my eye on the side of the road. I step on the brake pedal and point to the right. “Is that your car?”
“Yes, why?” She turns around when suddenly a jolt goes through her. Her left hand claws into the imitation leather of the dashboard, the fingers of her right hand into the interior door trim under the passenger door window.
I hear her take a breath with a sharp whistle. “What is it?”
“This… Oh my God!” Her right hand slides down to the door opener; in the last split second, I catch the central locking switch. “What? What is that supposed to be?” Fruitlessly, she yanks the lever. “Let me out!”
“You absolutely did not want to get out of the truck,” I remind her.
“So what?” she snaps at me angrily. “I didn’t have a plan then… Have you seen mycarnoodle?”
Her car?“Yeah?”Why does she ask? I brought it to her attention, didn’t I?Irritated, I lean over to her to peek through the passenger side window as well.
“And at that point, you didn’t notice the dents?” She brandishes her hands. “There, in the front, in the back, on the side… You think I’m playing bumper car with it?”
Well, I didn’t forget that she doesn’t take very good care of her car, but,“No, definitely not. So, you’re assuming vandalism?”
“If you’re implying that Kevin took his anger out on it…? Oh my God. It makes me sick to think how he’ll have trashed the place…”
“Do you want me to call the police?”
“So that the catastrophic failure of my personal life can be broadcast by jerkface Pascal?” she reminds me. “Thank you. But: no, thank you.”
“Fuck.”
She snorts. “Yeah, that’s right: fuck. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fucking hell! Fucking motherfucker! Hell!” Then she laughs, though a tear escapes from the corner of her eye. “Oh my god! That really helps. I feel a little better now.”
“Really?” My hand is already twitching to reach over and grab her slender fingers. At the last moment, I hold back. “Then… feel free. Go ahead and curse.”
