The house had filled with people paying their respects. Lorna didn’t know any of them—most seemed to be people who had known Nana when she was a university man’s wife, or people who knew Lorna’s mother. Lorna had stood stiffly as people passed her by and commented, “My, you’re tall, aren’t you?” and “So sorry for your loss, young lady,” and “Where is your sister? She was so pretty.”
Wherewasher sister? The question had eventually penetrated Lorna’s brain fog, and she’d gone in search of poor, grieving Kristen.
She found her, all right, and in so doing, the occasion of Nana’s death became known as the time Lorna discovered that Luke had used her. Because there he and Kristen were, making out in Kristen’s room, the smell of pot so thick it was a wonder the entire bereavement party hadn’t come upstairs to investigate. It became apparent, in the arguing that followed over the next few days, that not only had Luke used Lorna to get to Kristen, but Kristen had allowed it.
“I didn’t even like him,” Kristen insisted one day when she had Lorna wrapped in a bear hug, trying to make her listen. “He’s a dick, Lolo, no good for you and no great loss, okay?”
Except that it was a great loss to Lorna. Of her first boyfriend, of her pride, and even of the naive belief that people were who they showed you they were. It wasn’t up to Kristen to decide that for her. “If you didn’t like him, then why did you do it?”
Kristen let go of Lorna. She shrugged and looked away. “He had money to get some weed,” she said simply.
That was it. Money for weed was all it took for Kristen to betray her.
The pain had been terrible. Gut-wrenching. Lorna hated Luke for what he’d done. But she owed an apology to Brett Miller, who had come after Luke.
Brett was a guy who was even lower on the school social ladder than she was. He had a weird sense of humor that was off-putting to other kids. But he seemed to truly like Lorna. And she had strung him along, pretending she liked him, then treating him poorly, inventing hoops just for the sake of watching him jump through them, then taking him back. She’d kept that up until the shame she felt for treating him the same way Kristen had treated Luke drowned out her shame for having been used by Luke and betrayed by her sister. The feeling of control she’d craved had not come without harm. So she dumped him.
Brett had seemed crushed, because Brett was a nice guy.
She owed him an apology. She was not a mean person, contrary to what they said at Driskill.
One morning she googled Brett and found he was the owner of Miller Tire Barn in nearby Round Rock.
Lorna called the number listed on the website and asked for Brett. The woman who answered told her he’d be in at noon. “That ulcer is acting up again, so he’s at the doctor’s.”
At half past noon, Lorna walked into the front lobby of Miller Tire Barn. Through a glass door she could see the auto bay and cars up on risers. Tires were stacked in and around the bay, and the scent of rubber and grease was heavy. There seemed to be a coat of dust on everything. Lorna glimpsed a woman’s head behind the counter. “Excuse me... may I speak to Brett?”
The woman behind the counter hardly looked up. “Brett! Customer wants to see you!” she shouted.
A moment later, a man with a paunch, wearing a sweat-stained shirt emblazoned with the Miller Tire Barn logo, walked out of a back office. He was smiling, wiping his hands on a paper towel, like she’d caught him in the middle of lunch. “How can I help you?” he asked, but the moment the words had left his lips, the spark of recognition shone in his eyes. “Lorna?”
“Yep. It’s me,” she said nervously, and gave him a nerdy little wave. “Hi, Brett.”
He tossed the paper towel aside and came forward, his hand extended to shake. “How the heck are you?” She reluctantly took it, noticing his wedding ring. He was grinning, still the happy galumph he’d been in high school, only bigger.
“I’m okay. How about you?”
“Doing good.” He looked past her, presumably for her car. “You need tires?”
“No, I came here hoping to talk to you.”
“Oh. Why?” He let out a laugh. “We don’t have a love child out there, do we?”
Lorna was so startled she gaped.
“Kidding,” he said.
The woman behind the counter was suddenly all ears. Brett noticed her interest too. “Just joking around, Teresa. This is Lorna. She was the love of my life.”
Lorna’s mouth dropped even more.
“Kidding!” he said again.
“Still a jokester,” she said, pressing a hand to her belly. “Maybe we can go in your office?”
“What’s the matter?” Brett asked, sobering. “Did someone die? Was it John Turweiler? I heard he had cancer or something.”
“No. I mean, I don’t know anything about John. I don’t know anyone who has died. This will be quick—nothing bad.”
