Page 16 of Don't Go
“The Cross Foundation.”
“Yes.”
“The one that has been jerking you and Bonnie around for fourteen months on the surgery.”
“Yes.”
“The one you are currently waiting to hear from.”
“Yes.”
He started to laugh. It wasn't a kind laugh. It was the laugh of a friend witnessing a slow-motion car accident from a very safe distance.
“And the guy you said it to.”
“Mmm…”
“Was.”
“Mmm…”
“Sabrina.”
“His name is Mr. Cross, Kit.”
He laughed harder. He leaned on the bar. He laughed until I had to take the lime knife out of his hand and put it in the sink.A regular at the end of the bar shouted, “What's funny down there?” and Kit waved at him without looking up.
“Okay,” he said, when he'd recovered. “Okay, okay. To be fair. To be very fair. He absolutely deserves it.”
“Thank you.”
“He has had your kid on a list for over a year.”
“Thank you.”
“You probably should've insulted him harder.”
“I would have, but his dad collapsed in the middle of the room about ten minutes later, so.”
Kit's laugh stopped.
“His dad?—”
“Yeah.”
“Like, collapsed collapsed?”
“Stretcher, ambulance, the whole thing.”
“Jesus.”
“Yeah.”
“Is he?—”
“I don't know, Kit.”
He looked at me for a beat. “You okay?”
