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Instead, I shrug. “Not really.”
“Carboni’s, David,” he instructs, ignoring me.
“Absolutely, sir.”
He’s still holding my hand. “You need to eat. Italian always comforts.”
“Carbs in general,” I reply, trying to crack a smile.
***
Ireally can’t eatmuch, my stomach is still in knots, but the red wine helps. It’s not my first time trying it, and while I find it bitter, and not a fan of drinking anything warm, I’m not in the position to really care. I just want to be numb.
“So, how is school going?” Carter asks after swallowing a bite of chicken.
I lift a shoulder and let it fall. “Slow. This shit with Eric has put me behind. I had to drop two classes to help him and my mom.”
“Are you still set to graduate in May?”
“I think so, but now I have to double down on classes. The programming labs are hard.”
He nods and picks up his drink. “Yes, they are. But you’ll get through it. Still shooting for an Information Technology degree?”
“Yes, for now. Why?”
He chuckles. “Well, I have a master’s in it, so if you need help, you just ask. I’m looking into app development right now. It’s a great money-maker.”
I’d also looked into it myself. “You’re right. What kind of apps?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Mostly games for now.”
“Nice.” I smile weakly and we finish our meals in comfortable silence.
“Did you enjoy your ravioli?” Carter asks, taking a sip of what I think is whiskey, since I hadn’t paid much attention when he was ordering earlier.
“It was very good. Thank you for the meal. I... I needed this. It’s been a shitty day.”
He nods and sets his drink down. Then, he reaches across the table and grabs my hand. “Taryn, I know you’re worried about Eric. He’s going to be okay.”
“I don’t know. But I’m going to worry the whole time. Why did he have to go and drink and drive? He... he knew better!” I stammer out, frustrated.
“Yes, he did know better, but he made a bad decision. When I talked to him, he said he felt sober enough to drive. He didn’t think it would be an issue, and in fact, was fumbling with his phone when he hit that car. Probably wouldn’t have happened if he was paying attention, intoxicated or not. Unfortunately, police had to give him a field sobriety test and, well, he was just over the legal limit.”
“He told me the same thing. Cops told him distracted driving is just as bad as drunk driving.”
Carter nods. “They’re right.”
“I just can’t believe he’s going to have to spend a couple of years in prison.” I shake my head.
He purses his lips and gives me a regretful look.
“What?” I ask, setting my fork on my plate.
He looks at me and frowns. “Taryn, involuntary manslaughter has a minimum of, like, five years.”
My eyes widen and then fill with tears. “Five years?”
“Yes, and the DUI is at least a year.”
