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Oh dear Lord. Nina.
He didn’t pick it up, hoping she’d stop,prayingshe’d stop, because he didn’t think he could handle talking to her, not right then, not when his emotions were raw and frayed.
And if this is howyoufeel, what state do you thinkshe’sin?Nina’s grief trumped his.
Gary expelled a breath, shoved down hard on his self-pity, and clicked Answer. “Hey.”
“Can we meet?” Gary could hear the tears in her voice.
He stilled at the abrupt request. “When?”
“Now? Okay, not right this second. I have to get out of here. I need caffeine, although I’d prefer alcohol, but I think if I went down that route, I wouldn’t stop, so let’s stick with a coffee shop.”
“Got one in mind?”
“The Thinking Cup, on Tremont, overlooking the Common. It can get noisy, but there’s a view of the bandstand. Meet you there in an hour?”
Cory’s little sister needs me. It was enough to bring him to a decision. “Sure.”
“Great. See you then.” She disconnected.
Gary toweled his hair. Anything was better than hanging around his apartment. He needed focus, but there was also a tiny part of him that wanted to be with someone who shared his grief, his emotions… his feelings for Cory.
“TWO LATTES,two Boston cream pies.” The server placed the cups and plates on their table and withdrew.
Nina eyed the dessert. “He’d have a fit if he could see me eating this.”
“And then he’d be telling you to go for a run to burn it all off.”
They smiled, but Gary’s stomach tightened.
Nina had looked okay at first glance, but once she’d stopped hugging him, it didn’t take long for Gary to spot the shaky hands, the trembling lips, the bowed shoulders…. Her long brown hair was tied back, her face devoid of makeup, her expression a little vacant. Traces of the little girl who’d plagued him when he was a teenager were all but gone, submerged in the thirty-year-old woman she’d become.
She looks as if she’s aged overnight.
Gary had thought the same thing that morning, gazing at his reflection.
Nina picked up her fork and cut through the ganache with its edge, revealing the cream filling but making no effort to bring it to her lips. Then she raised her chin and shrugged. “I think I’ve lost my appetite.” She put her fork on the plate and pushed it away.
“All I’ve eaten since Friday is soup. Only thing I could keep down.” His own dessert sat untouched.
She reached for the latte. “This smells good.”
Around them were the sights, sounds, and aromas of the coffee shop: The gleam of the chrome espresso machine and bean grinder; customers working on laptops or tablets, reading newspapers. The murmur of voices; the clatter of dishes; coins clinking into a tip jar; a radio station playing music in the background; ice grating in the blender. The aromatic scent of freshly brewed coffee, warm caramel, and chocolate; the tingle of spices; and the enticing smell of fresh-baked cookies and muffins.
It was surreal. Life went on as normal, and yet so many differing emotions could lurk there, hidden from view. Anger, grief, frustration, defeat, resentment….
Cory’s killer could be sitting a few feet away from us and we would never know.
Gary gave himself a mental shake and shifted his imagination into Park. “Where’s your fiancé?”
Nina blinked. “You know about David?”
He nodded. “Cory told me. Your parents mentioned him too when I called.” Not that he wanted to recall the conversation punctuated by sobs and labored breathing. It was Brad all over again.
I hope they’re nothing like my parents.He wouldn’t want Cory’s mom and dad to join the ranks of the walking dead.
A brief spasm contorted her face, but she recovered quickly. “Yeah. Thanks for that, by the way. David’s with them right now. I told him I wanted to meet you on my own. Besides, he’s doing his bit to hold them together. I had to get out of there before I fell apart.”
