Page 68 of Just Trouble

“And there it goes,” he murmurs. “One great mood shot to hell by reality.”

“What did you do to end up here?” I ask quietly.

“I tried to remember. I retraced my steps from that night, the night I ran into Sylvia. And I remembered that she came out of the Grand Hotel, that she wanted to avoid Mike and his friends, that we went to the Foreman place, which was empty even then. Someone had left the bottle there and we went upstairs with it.After that, I have a gap. I remember being sick in the forest. I remember waking up on Una’s porch. In between, nada. And as I stood there, trying to rememberanythingabout that night, the cops came.”

“A neighbour saw you enter the building.”

“I don’t doubt it. The cops emptied my pockets and took me to Havelock, and by the time I had the chance to make a call, my phone had died. I didn’t remember your number. You don’t have a landline, apparently, because there’s no listing for you, so I called the office and left a message.” He shrugs. “Not a lot of options.”

“You could have called your mom.”

“No.” He gives me an intent look. “Where did you think I was this weekend?”

“Gone.” I reach for the door handle but he stops me with a touch, his fingertips on my wrist. I look up. “You said you wouldn’t stay.”

“That wasbefore, Daph.”

Before what? Before we had sex? Before he knew he and Sylvia had a daughter? I don’t know and I won’t ask. Once again, I’m awash in competing feelings and that makes me want to retreat to the safe territories of logic and professional indifference.

Fill that moat.

Lift that drawbridge.

Maybe get the boiling oil ready on the ramparts.

I open the car door. “Are you coming or not?”

“Not quite so Medusa,” he murmurs with appreciation. “Maybe one of the furies instead of one of the gorgons.” I look up and he grins. “I’m good with you haunting me forever, by the way.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“I’m starving and I desperately need a shower. Both are significantly less chronic conditions.”

I fight a smile and get into the car. He gets in the other side and fastens his seatbelt. The car feels much smaller than I know it is, and his proximity can’t be ignored. I swear I can feel the heat of him—and he doesn’t stink, despite his insistence otherwise. I’m thinking inappropriate thoughts as I pull out of the parking lot. I’m intending to drive back to Empire and drop him off at the motel when he clears his throat.

“Actually, Daph, could we make a detour?”

“Anywhere specific?”

“Somewhere a little less glacial than inside this car,” he mutters, then continues before I can reply. “To my mom’s. I want to get my guitar. It’s maybe ten minutes out of your way, if you don’t mind.” He waits a minute, then continues. “I’d like also to consult you on a legal matter, so we can do that on the way, and you can bill me for it.” He casts me a sidelong glance. “Win-win, right?”

I’m skeptical, but I nod. He gives me directions and I head toward his mom’s house.

Whatever I’m expecting him to say, it’s not what he does say.

“So, Daph, if I want to pay child support to Sylvia, how do we make that happen?”

I miss a gear, and Luke doesn’t miss that.

“What? You didn’t expect me to do the right thing?”

“Sierra is fifteen. She won’t be a child much longer.”

“I didn’t know about her.”

“Because Sylvia didn’t want you to know.”

“Well, now I do and I want to make it right. Better late than never.” He sounds determined and I can’t help respecting his choice.

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