Page 96 of Lick
David: You there?
Me: Yeah.
David: I need to know if you believe me about Martha.
Did I? I took a breath, searched deep. There was frustration, plenty of confusion, but my anger had apparently burned itself out at long last. Because I didn’t doubt he’d told me the truth.
Me: I believe you.
David: Thank you. I keep thinking of more. Will you listen?
Me: Yes.
David: My folks got married because of Jimmy. Mom left when I was 12. She drank. Jimmy’s been paying her to keep quiet. She’s been hustling him for years.
Me: Holy hell!
David: Yeah. I got lawyers onto it now.
Me: Glad to hear it.
David: We retired Dad to Florida. I told him about you. He wants to meet.
Me: Really? I don’t know what to say…
David: Can I come up?
Me: You’re here??
I didn’t wait for a reply. Forget my pajama shorts and ragged old T-shirt, washed so many times its original color was a faded memory. He’d just have to take me as he found me. I unlocked the front door of our apartment and padded down the stairs on bare feet, my cell still in my hand. Sure enough, a tall shadow loomed through the frosted glass of the building’s front door. I pushed it open to find him sitting on the step. Outside, the night was still, peaceful. A fancy silver SUV was pulled up at the curb.
“Hey,” he said, a finger busy on the screen of his cell. Mine beeped again.
David: Wanted to say good night.
“Okay,” I said, looking up from the screen. “Come in.”
The side of his mouth lifted and he looked up at me. I met his gaze, refusing to feel self-conscious. He didn’t seem put off by my slacker bedtime style. If anything, his smile increased, his eyes warming. “You about to go to bed?”
“I was just reading. Couldn’t sleep.”
“Is your brother here?” He stood and followed me back up the stairs, his sneakers loud on the old wooden floors. I half expected Mrs. Lucia from downstairs to come out and yell. It was a hobby of hers.
“No,” I said, closing the door behind us. “He and Lauren went out.”
He looked around the apartment with interest. As usual he took up all the space. I don’t know how he did that. It was like a magician’s trick. He was somehow so much bigger than he actually seemed. And the man didn’t seem small to begin with. In no rush at all, his gaze wandered around the room, taking in bright turquoise walls (Lauren’s doing) and the shelves of neatly stacked books (my doing).
“Is this yours?” he asked, poking his head into my bedroom.
“Ah, yes. It’s a bit of a mess right now, though.” I squeezed past him and started speed-cleaning, picking up the books and other assorted debris scattered across the floor. I should have asked him to give me five minutes before coming up. My mother would be horrified. Since returning from LA I’d let my world descend into chaos. It suited my frazzled state of mind. Didn’t mean David needed to see it. I needed to make a plan to clean up my act and actually stick to it this time.
“I used to be organized,” I said, flailing, my fallback position for everything lately.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“This won’t take a minute.”
“Ev,” he said, catching hold of my wrist in much the same manner that his gaze caught me. “I don’t care. I just need to talk to you.”
