Just as the wave of grief that sometimes crashes into my heart begins to recede, I remember that Hollis knows almost nothing about Mrs. Nash. His words might be correct, but they’re nothing but empty assumptions; other than her and Elsie’s love story, the only things I’ve told him are that she loved York Peppermint Patties and used to have a male dog named Lady. “You just don’t want me to be in the parade because you don’t like Ryan.”
His hand pauses, heavy on my shoulder blade. “No, I don’t like Ryan. But I don’t like most people. It’s nothing personal. So do the parade, don’t do the parade. It’s your decision.”
“It affects you too, though.”
“I’m not going to ask you to do something that makes you uncomfortable just so I don’t have to wait as long to get laid.” The hand on my back gives me a light pat, then withdraws. “The choice is yours, kid. I’m behind you one hundred percent.”
“Not a kid,” I grumble as our food arrives at the table.
“Says the woman who insisted on ordering off the children’smenu.” He removes the frilly toothpicks from the triangular towers of turkey club on his plate.
“You’re just jealous that your lunch didn’t come with a hot dog octopus.”
“Right. I’m sure it’s actually that.”
Hollismmms his way through his sandwich, and I make fun of him because, come on, how can I not? But the entire time, I’m also trying not to think too hard about what Hollis said about Ryan’s intentions tonight and why exactly I’m not more interested in the prospect.
10
•••••
“I’m going to do it,” I decide.
“You’re going to have sex with Ryan?” Hollis asks, his tone distracted. He’s been writing for the last hour at the desk in the corner of our room at Gadsley Manor, while I’ve been sprawled out on the bed, debating the repercussions of a public appearance in a small southern town.
“No, the parade.” I’ve been thinking about the sex thing too, let’s be real. Maybe it’s just what I need. Like a palate cleanser. A scoop of sorbet to clear out the slightly metallic taste Josh left behind. Casual sex seems to work out well enough for Hollis. And Yeva, I imagine. Also, I know that Dani has had her share of satisfactory no-strings-attached hookups. Why shouldn’t I give it a try? “I might or might not do the sex. Haven’t decided yet.”
This gets Hollis’s attention. He drops his pen and shifts to look at me. “So you’re going to do the parade?”
“Yes. I looked it up, and all a grand marshal really has to do issit in a convertible and wave and smile. I excel at all of those things. So why not?”
“You won’t mind the attention?”
I shrug. “The crowd itself is no problem. I might make the papers or trend on social media or whatever, but if we can get back on the road tomorrow afternoon instead of in a few days, get to Elsie sooner, it’ll be worth it. Besides, this is something I’m choosing to do. I know there will be photos, and I know they’ll be out in the world. I don’t have to read any of the comments. So it’s fine.”
Hollis nods. “Okay. Sounds good.” He picks his pen up again and continues writing.
I try to pay attention to Bud’s book, but after rereading the same sentence six times, I give up and let myself watch Hollis’s profile as he works. When he’s particularly focused, he bites his bottom lip. Occasionally he pauses and stares into space for a minute before bobbing his head ever so slightly and returning his attention to his notebook. His concentration is both fascinating and maddening. I have this impulse to test its limits that is probably not very nice but sounds like an excellent way to spend my time.
“Working pretty hard there, aren’t you?” I ask.
Silence.
“This book is great, by the way. Bud’s a decent writer. Should I read you a few select passages? Maybe it’ll inspire you.” I flip back toward the beginning and read aloud a paragraph about the town’s founding, then jump ahead to one about the Alston broccoli farm’s history.
Silence.
“Going to borrow your toothbrush. Hope you don’t mind.”
More silence.
“Might clean the toilet with it. I noticed a rust stain this morning that I bet Connie would love to get rid of.”
Nothing.
“But first, do you mind if I jump up and down on the bed naked, singing ‘The Battle Hymn of the Republic?’ ”
He turns in his chair, draping an arm across the back and resting his chin on it. “No, I don’t mind. Go ahead.”
