When Daniel and I were together, we didn’t come over here very often—he didn’t really ever get along with my dad, and the tension made it awkward to bring him over. Then, when he left and we divorced, Mom and Dad became my support system, along with Cora, and I’m here more than I was even during high school. Making up for lost time, I guess.
I can’t get rid of that vision, though.
It can’t happen, of course, but it’s a pleasant fantasy.
* * *
Fate is such a bitch.
I can’t get away from Jamie Trent. I see him every day at Aiden’s football practice, every morning at drop-off, and every afternoon at pickup…until Jamie volunteers to walk over with the three or four other boys who play on the team with Aiden, so they don’t have to be picked up and driven around the complex. Every time we see each other, we end up chatting for a few minutes, and each time, it’s far too easy. His smile seems to sear into my soul, and his eyes seem to see my every secret.
Surely he can see how attracted to him I am…
Friday, a few weeks into the new school year, Mom and Dad offer to have Aiden stay the night so Cora and I can decompress a little. So, after football practice, I take Aiden to my parents’ house, give him hugs and kisses, and tell him to be good, and I meet Cora at José’s. Our night out goes swimmingly, at first.
Over tacos and margaritas, we spend an hour discussing the latest Clayton gossip, and our students, and what we’ll be covering at the next in-service meeting. Eventually we head over to Vinnie’s, skipping the karaoke tonight in favor of a low-key evening. We sit at the booth near the back and sip wine, leaving the dance floor to the others.
Cora is on a rant about her favorite subject: Lewis Calhoun.
“…There’s talk his uncle is retiring from the sheriff’s department, and if Tony Calhoun retires, word is they’ll bring in someone from the outside to take over and shake things up. And then what would Lewis do? Tony has been looking the other way about Lewis’s little business for years. It’s an open secret, and I’ve even heard Tony talking about it to his buddies at the bar. Like, it’s harmless, you know? It’s just a little pot. If Lewis was trying to sell anything harder, or in bigger weights, he’d have to step in, but as long as Lewis keeps it small and keeps it quiet and doesn’t sell to minors, no big deal. And anyway, Tony knows the narc officers in Columbia, which is where he speculates Lewis is getting his supply, and he could easily make a few calls and get Lewis’s supply line cut.”
I shake my head, snorting. “Cora. Why do you care about Lewis Calhoun’s marijuana supply line?”
“Oh, I don’t, not really. I’m just interested to see what he does if and when Tony retires.”
“He’ll have to stop selling, that’s what.”
Cora nods. “Right, but that’s how Lewis makes ends meet. His whole small engine repair business barely lets him scrape by. If Tony retires and Lewis has to stop selling, I’m not sure how he’ll manage.”
I laugh. “Um…by getting another job, and an honest one?”
“I told him he should start selling his junk art, but he’s like, nah, that’s just a hobby.”
I eye her—that’s a new one. “Junk art?”
She claps her hands over her mouth. “I wasn’t supposed to talk about that.”
“Cora.”
She sighs. “You can’t let it go beyond us, okay? He’s weird about it.”
I roll my eyes. “Cora, who would I tell? You’re my only real friend in town.”
“He salvages things from the scrapyard over in York, brings them back to his shop, and turns them into abstract art. He’s got that whole warehouse, you know? He bought the whole plot including the warehouse and the abandoned manufacturing floor and everything else for an absolute pittance from Gordy Garrison a few years ago just so he could have access to the mechanic’s shop. But over the years, he’s actually done a lot of work on the place, and he’s got quite a backlog of junk art pieces in that warehouse. Pretty cool stuff, actually.”
“You’ve been in Lewis’s warehouse?” I ask. He’s notoriously reclusive, and very few people have ever been in there.
She shrugs, focusing on her drink instead of meeting my eyes. “Yeah, once or twice. We hang out sometimes.”
“Cora?”
She looks up at me finally. “What?”
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“Nothing. We hang out sometimes. Literally, that’s it. Nothing beyond literally just hanging out and talking.”
“That’s weird.”
