Page 105 of Bourbon Bliss
I held up the containers. “I brought dinner.”
“Wow, thanks, June Bug.” He stepped aside so I could enter and shut the door behind me. “That’s very sweet of you.”
Mellow hopped over, bouncing across the wood floor. “Hi, Marshmellow. Are you taking good care of George?”
She sniffed my foot.
“Here, let me take all that.” He grabbed our dinner and brought it into the kitchen.
I took off my cardigan and draped it over a chair. From where I was standing, I had a clear view into the single bedroom. George’s suitcase was on the bed.
“Are you going somewhere?”
“Yeah, I am. I was going to call you tonight and talk to you about it. I have to go back to Philly for a while.”
“You’re already packing.” I gestured toward the bedroom. “Is this trip imminent?”
“I leave in the morning.”
“Oh? How long do you think you’ll be gone?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not sure. A couple of weeks. Maybe longer. It depends.”
I felt a dip, as if my stomach had suddenly dropped. “That’s a significant amount of time. Where will you stay?”
“At my house. I pulled it off the market for the time being.”
“You’re not selling?”
He took a deep breath. “I will, eventually. I just can’t right now. I have to take care of some things first.”
“What things?”
“Just some things. Financial stuff.”
I didn’t like the turn this conversation had taken. George seemed hesitant, like he didn’t want to talk to me about this. But finances were one of my areas of expertise.
“George, if you’re having financial trouble, I could help.”
“Yeah, I know. There are just some things I need to handle.”
His tone of voice didn’t match his words. He was brushing the subject aside, but I could sense that there was more. It was as if something lurked beneath the surface, causing that shadow behind his eyes.
“Are you keeping your rental here?” I asked.
“No.”
“So you’re moving.” It wasn’t a question. “You’re moving back to Philadelphia.”
“No, that’s not what I said.”
“You’re giving up the rental, not selling your house, and going to live there for an indeterminate amount of time. That sounds like moving.”
“It’s not permanent,” he said. “Once I get things squared away, I’ll be in a position to come back to Bootleg. And I can come visit on the weekends. I’ll be here for the dance and everything.”
“The dance isn’t my biggest concern, I just…” I trailed off, unsure of what to say. I didn’t know how this was supposed to work. “What things do you need to handle? Why won’t you elaborate?”
He put his hands on his hips, still facing the window. “I’m fucked, June. That’s the problem. I’m good and fucked.”
