"Hi?" he said. "Or bye? 'Cause I'm having a hard time figuring it out."
I looked down at my feet. "I don't know."
"I know the feeling."
"Look," I said. "I'm sorry things got so weird last night. It's just –" I shrugged. "I dunno."
"Tell me," he said, his voice raw. "What'd I do? 'Cause I keep replaying everything in my head, and I can't figure it out. Was it something I said? Something Ididn'tsay? Something I did, didn't do? What?"
Inside the house, Chucky was now going absolutely berserk. I heard his paws at the door, scratching frantically to get out. If I didn't do something soon, who knows what kind of mess I'd find when I finally opened that door.
"I should let him out," I said, "give him a walk or something to burn off some of that energy."
"Is this your way of telling me to leave?"
I glanced at the house. "Well, we can't be hanging around here, that's for sure."
It wasn't just because Chucky was getting too worked up. Sure, the house was set far back from the street, but it was the middle of the day. We wouldn't exactly be invisible standing out in the front yard, especially if our discussion got heated. If I was going to have an argument with Lawton, this was definitely the wrong place to be doing it.
"Why not here?" he said. "You expecting someone?"
"No," I protested. "Nothing like that."
He snorted. "If you say so."
"Look," I said. "It's time for Chucky's walk. And I need to get him out here before he trashes the place."
"Go ahead," he said. "I'll wait."
I ran a nervous hand through my hair. "You can wait if you want, but we still can't talk here." I glanced around. "And it's not what you think. I just don't want to make a spectacle for the neighbors."
"I am one of the neighbors," he said.
I rolled my eyes. "Are you gonna wait or not?"
"Oh trust me," he said, "I'm not going anywhere."
A couple minutes later, Chucky and I were almost ready to go. Like the sap I was, I'd grabbed a bag of doggie treats for the road, and started Chucky out with a pre-walk snack while I laced up my shoes.
By the time we'd gone a couple of blocks, Chucky seemed happy. Lawton didn't.
By unspoken agreement, Lawton held Chucky's leash like he always did, while I held out the dubious hope this wouldn't be as awkward as I feared.
"So, why'd you leave last night?" Lawton asked. "You got someone else? Is that it?"
"No," I said. "That's definitely not it. And I don't know why you even think that."
"Maybe," he said, "it's because you get so squirrely every time we end up at your place." He frowned. "Assuming thatisyour place."
"Squirrely?"
"Yeah. Like you're hiding something, and I want to know what."
I made a scoffing sound. "I'mhiding something? Well, that's rich. Wanna know what I don't get?" I blurted out. "Why you didn't invite me to your birthday party."
Of all the things I could've said to him, that one surprised me. Until this moment, I didn't quite realize how much the omission had hurt. But it had. And the hurt had been burrowing deeper with every passing minute until it was rotting somewhere in my gut, along with the other stuff that I dared not mention.
His voice was soft. "You think I didn't want you there?"
