Page 26 of Sergeant O'
Sophie: You should still come and go to the beach, then crash here!
Me; I don’t know. There’s a lot going on here. Brian O’Shaughnessy actually stayed here last night.
I quickly added:
In my guest room. The press is camped out in Haven Springs trying to get an interview with him.
Sophie: Um, when you get here, we’re gonna have to circle back to how Brian O’Shaughnessy ended up at your house (and why you made him sleep in the guest room!) But, how’s he doing? How’s your sister?
Me: It’s a long story how he ended up here. And please, like I’d invite Brian to sleep in my bed!
Lainey is good. She’s a survivor. I think she was rescued before she was hurt too badly, thank God. As for Brian, he is doing remarkably well after just getting shot and almost dying. Maybe it’s the pain pills he’s taking. LOL
Sophie: Or maybe it’s the company he’s keeping.
She added a winking emoji.
Me: Yeah, you know me. I’m the human equivalent of Oxy.
Sophie: I don’t even know what that means.
Me: LOL! Me neither!
Sophie: I gotta get ready for work. But, like I said, you’re welcome to stay here. You know the garage code. I love you! Thank you again for understanding.
Me: Love you, too. And of course I understand. You’re basically living my life, although I hope you’re at least getting laid on occasion.
Sophie: Your guest room is ten feet away. J/S!
I thought about sending a glib reply but sobered when I remembered how last night he’d made sure I knew he only thought of me as a friend.
Instead, I tossed my phone on my bed and went to my closet to throw on my walking attire: sports bra, tank top, running shorts, socks, and tennis shoes. After plucking my headphones from the charger next to my bed and picking up my phone, I quietly opened my bedroom door and tiptoed down the hall toward the kitchen to refill my water bottle before heading out for my daily walk.
I paused.
Should I leave Brian a note?
It seemed like the polite thing to do. I didn’t want him trying to be quiet when he didn’t need to be, so I opened my junk drawer and pulled out a pad of square yellow sticky notes and scrawled, “Good morning! I went for a walk. Be back soon.” I noted the time at the bottom, then grabbed my phone and pulled up my music streaming service, put my earbuds in, and stepped out the front door.
Hopefully a brisk walk would help clear my head.
I decided to mix up my regular route, thinking that might help keep my mind occupied on something other than what Brian looked like shirtless in pajama pants.
Or from pondering why a kaleidoscope of butterflies had taken flight in my stomach when our eyes locked while we were laughing at something on the TV show we were watching.
Or why I’d felt so offended that he wasn’t the least bit interested in me.
It turned out that altering my path didn’t stop me from wondering exactly those things. In fact, I was so preoccupied with those thoughts that I wound up at the end of Brian’s street.
And it was lined with news vans.
Shit, shit, shit.
Even though my hair was a darker blonde, Lainey and I looked enough alike that from a distance I could be mistaken for her.
I needed to get the hell out of there before anyone noticed me and followed me home.
Turning on my heel, I headed back in the direction I’d just come from. I checked my watch for how far I’d walked, and decided I’d try to get my steps in at the beach later.
