Page 100 of Best Served Cold

I smile at his damp hair. So that’s what it takes to get him to shower regularly. “Sorry, but they say a bird pooping on your head is good luck.”

More knowledge I’ve tucked away about luck.

“It didn’t make me feel very lucky.” He pauses, surveying me with a glum look on his face. “There’s something I’m not sure if I should tell you.”

“You’ve already gotten halfway there,” I say, feeling a twinge of unease. “Might as well pull off the rest of the Band-Aid.”

“When I got home, there was a big box on the doorstep. It looks like your stuff, but there was also a boom box in there. I think maybe we could sell that to a nostalgic boomer on eBay.”

My mind skips backward to Jonah bringing a boom box to the brewery. I clear my throat. “Was there a note?”

“It was five pages long. I…” He glances sheepishly into the kitchen. “I kind of…threw it away.”

“You threw it away?”

“Jonah said a lot of mean stuff and accused you of being the cheater, and I figured you didn’t need to read that, Soph. So, yeah, I threw it away.”

I pause, trying to process that, and then nod. “Thank you.”

“But I figured you might want to go through the box by yourself. There’s, like, an old toothbrush and a few paperbacks, some clothes.” He blushes. “Uh…like underwear. Stuff like that.”

“Oh.”

“So…I brought it up to your room.”

The thought of going through those things alone sucks, but maybe I can get Hannah and Briar to sift through them with me in a few days. Or I can dump the whole thing out.

“Want me to set it on fire?” he asks. I flinch, and he swears.

“Sorry, Soph. Bad choice of words. I didn’t mean?—”

“Thanks, Otis. You definitely deserve that beer. Or…” I pause. “I have something better in mind.”

“Better thanbeer?”

I grin at him. “Yes.”

Dottie supplied me with some of the iced teas from her case, and I take them into the kitchen to mix him one of our specials.

I tell him all about my experiment with Dottie before he takes his first sip.

He puffs his lips out, looking thoughtful. “Don’t take this the wrong way.” He proceeds to pour some vodka from the top of the fridge into his cup. I’ve tried to convince my great-aunt not to store her spirits up there, but it’s impossible to tell Great-Aunt Penny anything she doesn’t want to hear.

He sips it again and nods to himself. “That’s the stuff.”

“You had something you wanted to tell me?” I ask.

“Yeah, let’s sit down.”

I eye the kitchen table. There are still stalks and leaves and flower petals all over it, but Otis hasn’t commented on the mess. I sweep it up and throw it in the trash, then lower into the chair. Yes, the chair.

I did clean it right before I left the house, with bleach wipes from under the sink, but it still feels special. And sitting here, I’m transported back to earlier, to the feel of Rob behind me. Inside of me.

I feelgood.

“What’s up?” I ask.

“I sold your dress.”

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