Chapter Fifteen
Oakley
When I wake up, pots and pans are banging around, and I can tell it’s later in the morning. I pad to the door and listen, but can’t hear anything. I didn’t fall asleep until well after two, and even once I did, I kept tossing and turning and jerking awake. It was awful.
I step quietly into the hall and make my way towards the racket. I don’t expect to find Terry. She turns with a spatula in hand and gives me a big smile.
“Hey, Bestie. I hope you like pancakes.”
My stomach grumbles at the mention of food, and we both end up laughing.
“I borrowed Mom’s car so we can go on a shopping expedition for anything else you might need while you are staying with my brother. Like, I don’t know, stuff that doesn’t smell like the inside of a cop gym.”
“A cop gym? What exactly does that smell like?”
“You know, all aggressive testosterone and control issues. You need some candles up in this bitch and some shampoo that doesn’t put hair on your chest.”
“I’ve been using the shampoo you left over here. It happens to be the same kind I use anyway.”
“Oh, well then, I’m happy I could help. Oh, by the way, Mom sent you some extra blankets, but I left them in the car.”
As she speaks, she walks to the door, so excited about these blankets that she’s going to grab them right now. When she pulls it open, her smile melts from her face, and she shuts it quickly putting her back to it like she might be trying to keep something out.
“What? What is it?”
“Um…we should call Waylon.”
“Why?”
“Because we, uh, need him here.”
“Why?”
“Because we just do.”
“What’s wrong, Terry?” I step around her and try to open the door, but she won’t let me. “Terry, what is going on?”
“Just, please go call Waylon.”
I rush back to the bedroom for my phone, but find I don’t want to be the one making the phone call. I bring it out to find Terry holding something in her hand. It looks almost like a photo.
“Terry?”
She jumps and puts the picture behind her back, frowning at me.
“What is that? And why are you hiding it?”
“Did you call Waylon?”
“I thought it would be better if you called him. I don’t want to bother him.”
“He’ll want to know…”
“Know about what? Terry, what is going on?”
“When was the last time you kissed Waylon?”
Well, I wasn’t expecting that question.
