CHAPTER 29
Megan spread her cards onto the table. “Fifteen for two, four separate ways. That’s eight. Plus two runs for three each. That’s fourteen. The Knobs gives me fifteen total.”
Mr. Steinman dropped his cards onto the table. “Fifteen, and the game.”
Megan smiled. “Gotcha!” She moved her peg to the end of the cribbage board. “That’s my first victory against you.”
“Even a blind squirrel finds a nut every now and again.”
“Don’t! I played great! Everything you taught me, I did during that game. No leading with face cards, no pairs into the crib, all that stuff.”
“I’d lose every game if it made you smile like that.”
Megan blushed and shielded her teeth with her hand.
“How’s the book doing?”
Megan shrugged, pulled her hand down. The smile was gone. “Climbing.”
“You’re a regular celebrity.”
“Yeah, to people who love sick stories.”
Mr. Steinman collected the cards. “I know you well enough now. There’s a reason for that book. Something you won’t admit.”
“I’ll admit it. The book gets my parents off my back.”
“And allows you to do what?”
“Breathe.” Megan pulled the pegs from the cribbage board and stored them. “And maybe find some answers for myself.”
“I thought you were doing that in therapy.”
“I am. I just need, I don’t know, different answers than the ones everyone around me wants to give.”
Mr. Steinman took the cribbage board and placed it with the cards on the end table. “I can’t tell you what to do. A young, independent girl like yourself is not going to listen to an old man like me. Just remember, sometimes finding those answers comes with a new set of questions.”
Megan nodded as though she understood perfectly.
There was a noise that came from another room. It sounded as though it came from the walls, perhaps the groan of a faucet being started. But there was something else that caused Megan to stiffen. If asked, she’d describe it as a moan but the whine of the faucet was enough to hide the exact origin.
Mr. Steinman, too, sat up straight when he heard it. “That’s it for me, my lovely lady. Will I see you next week?”
Megan stood, feeling as though she’d overstayed her welcome. “Of course. Have a good night,” she said.
Mr. Steinman hurried her to the door, his key chain chiming as it hung from his belt loop. “Good game,”he said quickly. “I’ve never felt better after losing at cribbage.”
“Need help?” Megan asked. “With, you know, whatever it is. Or company?”
“Not tonight.”
“Are you sure? I don’t mind helping. I’m not scared.”
“One of these days,” he said, grabbing the keys from his hip, “I’ll take you up on your offer.” He pulled the screen door closed as Megan walked onto the patio. “Good night.”
Megan smiled with her lips together, nodded, and headed for her car.
* * *