Page 16 of Last Date
“They were probably afraid I’m a serial killer or something.” His smile caused dimples in his ruddy cheeks. That was a peculiar thing to say to a complete stranger, but his smile was oddly charming, so it seemed okay somehow.
“Are you new in town?” I asked. Naturally I didn’t know everyone in town on sight, but there was something about him that felt foreign. Like he didn’t really belong in Pearl Cove.
He must not have heard my question though because he turned away and said, “Have a good night.”
“Uh, yes. You too.”
He walked away, his stride long and graceful. I watched him make his way down the walkway in front of the gift shops. Most of them were closed at this hour, but the display windows remained lit.
Shivering from the chilly air, I turned to get in my vehicle. I stopped when something caught my eye and moved to the back of the truck. Swearing under my breath, I knelt down. The driver’s-side rear tire was completely flat. There was no obvious reason for the flat, like a nail poking out of the sidewall.
I stood quickly, scanning the street for that kid, but he was gone. Had he let the air out of my tire? Or was this just a coincidence? He’d been a strange fellow, but it was entirely possible he’d had nothing to do with my flat tire.
Bottom line is I have a flat tire, and I need to deal with it.
Gritting my teeth, I went to grab my spare tire and jack. As I undid the lug bolts on the wheel, I decided maybe this was karma for lying earlier just so I could skip out on the evening. I could live with that. Changing a tire in the cold was ten times better than watching Merrick and Peter canoodling.
Chapter Four
“Yoo-hoo, over here, Kip.” My mother waved at me from across the crowded room. Beside her sat her best friend, June, who was Merrick’s mother. Mom and June had been friends for as long as I could remember.
I smiled at my mother in response and turned to get in line to pay my twenty-dollar entrance fee. The woman taking the cash had smeared red lipstick and gray permed hair. She sat at a card table with a young blonde girl who looked bored to tears. Poor kid had probably been guilted into coming just like half the people attending.
There was a fidgety man in front of me who looked vaguely familiar. The wool sweater he wore had moth holes in it, and his shoelaces were untied. He glanced around the room, muttering to himself. When it was his turn to pay, he said, “Mrs. Glen, I don’t see any recycling trash cans next to the regular ones.”
“Oh.” Mrs. Glen frowned. “I guess Henry forgot to put them out.”
“He forgot?” The man squeaked. “I just don’t see how that oversight is excusable. As I’ve told you before, seventy-nine percent of plastic waste ends up in the landfill. That means as more plastic ends up in the landfill in lieu of being recycled, the chances of plastic ending up in our oceans increase as well.”
Grimacing, the older woman said. “I know.I know, Bob. Henry just had a lot of stuff to do tonight.”
Bob gave a slightly hysterical laugh. “Well, no problem. It’s just the planet we live on. If we ruin it, we can just go get another one, right? Oh, wait, no we can’t.”
Mrs. Glen’s face turned pink at his sarcastic tone. Clearing her throat, she turned to the young girl beside her. “Susanna, would you be a dear and ask Henry to put the recycling cans out next to the others?”
Sighing, Susanna gave Bob a scathing look. “Where is he?”
“I think he’s in the kitchen helping with the refreshments.”
Susanna heaved herself from her chair and wandered off toward the kitchen area.
“Now.” Mrs. Glen held out her hand. “If you’re coming inside to play bingo, Bob, I need your money. There are people behind you in line.”
He pulled out a worn wallet and rifled through it, mumbling. Eventually, he tugged out twenty crumpled one-dollar bills. “I’m not sure why it’s so expensive to play bingo. It’s highway robbery.”
“Nobody is forcing you to play,” Mrs. Glen said through gritted teeth.
He took the ticket she offered and moved past the table without another word.
She let out a shaky breath as I stepped up for my turn. “How are you tonight?” she asked, looking completely distracted.
“I’m doing well.” I hesitated, wondering if the guy who’d walked away just now was the same Bob who’d been harassing Allister. “Is that Bob Tiegerman?”
“The one and the same. He’s such a nuisance.” She shot an irritable glance at Bob’s retreating back. “I’m perfectly aware that recycling is important. People make mistakes sometimes because we’re busy, sheesh.”
“He definitely could have been nicer about it.”
“Exactly. All I’m asking for is a little common courtesy.” She tucked my money in a green metal box and handed me a pink ticket. “Thank you so much for supporting St. Anthony’s Church. Have fun tonight.”
