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They used to run the post office in town, but they were retired now.
“Why aren’t you at the docks? You feeling okay?” Mr. Stanley asked before the missus interrupted.
“Of course he’s not okay. We heard about what happened last night. Pity about your wife,” she said as she leaned toward me, clearly wanting more information on the subject.
But I’d had enough sharing to last me a while.
“Thanks for saying that.” I tried to be polite, but it was a struggle.
Barley nudged my leg with his nose, and I gave him a pat.
“You didn’t reallymurderher, did you?” she asked, tripping on the word like it had gotten stuck to her tongue on the way out.
“Depends on who you ask, I suppose,” I said with a shrug, and Mrs. Stanley gasped.
It was a shit response, but it felt like the truth.
The crash had been ruled an accident by the police, and I wasn’t charged with reckless driving even though I would have understood it if I had been. My blood alcohol level was 0.0. I hadn’t had a single drink at the party, so I knew I wasn’t drunk, but it was standard procedure for them to check.
Lydia’s parents were devastated, and her dad blamed me, saying more than once that I’d killed his baby girl. I knew that he needed someone to be angry with, and I was the only one still living who fit the bill. He couldn’t be mad at the ice on the road, or the tree, or God, so he chose me instead. And I had taken it willingly because I agreed completely that it was all my fault.
“Of course he didn’t murder his wife. Stop asking nonsense, woman!” Mr. Stanley snapped before apologizing to me on her behalf. “One last thing,” he started to say, and my body tensed as I waited. “Liam’s a real piece of work. Used to be a nice kid. Not sure what happened there, but we’re all Team Ava around these parts.”
“Okay.” I wasn’t sure what the point of his commentary was.
“Just saying that none of us would miss him if he never came back around,” he added, and I was still just as clueless to his meaning.
“Are you hinting at Tony to kill the man?” his wife asked.
I shot Mr. Stanley a look because…is he???
“Good gracious, woman, pipe down. I’m not telling you to whack him. Just telling you that we don’t like him. And we like Ava. And Ava clearly likes you. So, you’re okay in my book.”
“Why didn’t you just say that then?” the missus asked, her tone agitated. “He’s always beating around the bush instead of coming right out and saying what he means.”
“I do not.” He fought back.
She leaned toward me once more, her hand cupping her mouth. “He does. But he’s right. Ask her out already. We’re all waiting, and we’re getting old.”
What?
See what I mean about small towns?
“I’ll think about it,” I said with a forced smile, way past my comfort level at this point.
Before the two of them could give me any more unwanted advice, I gave them a wave and tugged at Barley’s leash to get him moving.
All I wanted to do was get back to my place and lock myself inside. Which was why the shadow I saw standing at my front door was the last person I wanted to be around at the moment.
Rory.
“Hey, man,” he said, his face etched with something more than concern.
“Why are you here?” I asked, unhooking Barley and opening the door for him. He leaped inside, and I heard him splashing in his water bowl, no doubt making a huge mess on the floor that I’d have to clean up.
“I just came to make sure you were all right.”
“I don’t need a babysitter.”
