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He pulls off the band-aid and cleans the cut. “Nah, Milo super glued it.”
Men. I swear.
While he’s putting ointment on the cut, I open a new band-aid. He holds out his hand for me to apply it. The injured area is the only clean spot on his hand, but I pay no mind, holding his hand and wrapping the bandage tight around his finger to stop the bleeding. “Any news from the lawyer?” I ask.
“Not really. He plans to claim I’m not mentally competent to stand trial because of my memory loss. So he’s working on that.”
It’s not a defense I expected. It seems to me like proving he didn’t do it would be better than claiming he’s too messed up to remember, but he’s the lawyer. Whatever keeps Oliver out of jail. It’s only been a few days, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s that our justice system moves at the speed of a sloth.
“Ella?” His voice is soft, and I look up into his eyes. The emotions I see there mirror my own. Yearning and pain and shame.
“Hmm?”
“I should get back to work.”
I’m still holding his hand. “Right, yeah, sorry.” I let him go and take a step back.
“I want to see that magazine when it comes out.”
“It’ll be at the end of the month, after Thanksgiving.” It occurs to me he may not have plans then either. “Are you doing anything for Thanksgiving?”
“Milo and Smith both invited me, but no. I’m not really in the celebrating mood.”
“Yeah, I get that. Okay, I’m going to go. Try not to cut off a finger.”
“See you later.”
CHAPTER3
Tori’s parents must be putting on quite the Thanksgiving dinner judging by the number of cars parked next door to me. Tori’s isn’t among them since she’s gone to visit Paul’s family this year. Most of the houses are lit up and full of people coming and going. I’m doing my best not to let loneliness seep in. It’s just another day, Ella. You didn’t even care for Thanksgiving before. Turkey and cranberries aren’t your thing.
No, they aren’t, but family is. A peek into the dining room brings back so many memories of Mom, Dad, Garrett, and I gathered around the table. The last two years, Alden was with us too, and I smile remembering how he and dad played rock, paper, scissors to see who would carve the turkey. Alden won and Dad threw a pea at him that bounced right off his forehead.
This Thanksgiving will be different but not terrible. I braved the ridiculously crowded grocery store yesterday, but not for the food most customers were battling over. The bags I left with were full of cookies, chips, and candy. I risked a quick trip over the state border into Illinois to buy some weed from a dispensary. My plans for the night are simple. Get high, eat my feelings, and binge watch TV.
I’m thirty minutes into a horror movie marathon when my doorbell rings. It’s probably Tori’s parents offering an invitation again.
Instead of Luke or Mia staring back at me when I open the door, I’m met with Oliver’s sheepish grin. Two pizza boxes sit balanced on his palm. “Hey…I thought you might be hungry.”
His uncertainty is cute, despite the reason for it. We both agreed not to spend too much time together while we get our feelings sorted out, but I’m glad to see him after a week apart.
“Come in. You’re just in time for Creepshow. It’s classic Stephen King.”
“You watch horror movies alone?”
“Ha! I’m super brave.”
He follows me into the living room where my snacks are spread over the coffee table. The corners of his mouth crease. “Got the munchies?”
“Not yet, but I plan to. Why didn’t I think of pizza?”
Laughing, he edges the boxes onto one side of the table, careful not to knock anything off.
“Grab something to drink. You know where I keep the alcohol if you want something stronger than a soft drink. I know you can’t smoke.” They didn’t specifically tell him he could be drug tested while he’s out with the tracking anklet, but they did warn him that committing a crime would send him straight to jail where he’d stay until trial. And our state still treats marijuana like it’s heroin, as ridiculous as that is.
He returns with a glass of Coke and a bottle of whiskey. It feels good to have him here. It feels natural. We spent so many evenings like this while he was recovering.
His eyebrow raises when he catches me staring at him. “What?”
