“Sure.”
“Can you stay?”
Another brief pause.
“Of course.”
Half an hour later, Coulter stood outside with Harlan’s leash, a six-pack, and a bag of chicken tenders, fries, and barbecue chips.
Harlan pushed inside and pressed his entire body against my legs.
I crouched.
“There you are.”
Coulter lifted the food bag.
“I made several sophisticated culinary decisions.”
I looked at the beer.
“You committed.”
“I panicked in the snack aisle.”
I laughed.
It sounded strange.
But good.
We ate at the kitchen island.
Harlan lay across my feet.
Coulter waited.
Eventually he said:
“So?”
I looked at him.
“Do you want the part where I ask whether I’m supposed to dislike everybody?”
“I’d prefer the part where you tell me what happened.”
“They asked for thirty thousand dollars.”
His fry stopped halfway toward the ketchup.
“Oh.”
“I said no.”
He nodded.
That was all.
“You’re not telling me I did the right thing?”
“I wasn’t there.”
I stared.
“You said no.”
He shrugged.
“I assume you had reasons.”
“I had several.”
“Then tell me whenever you want.”
So I did.
Darcy.
Mom.
Dad.
The store.
The girls.
The way everything felt normal until money appeared.
The worst part was describing Sable asking whether she would see me tomorrow.
That was where my voice cracked.
Coulter did not interrupt.
When I finished, he pushed the barbecue chips toward me.
“That’s your response?”
“I’m listening and feeding you.”
“I can do both.”
I opened the bag.
We stayed until the fries were cold and the beer was warm.
Part of me wanted to call Mom.
Another part wanted to give Darcy fifteen thousand dollars just to rescue Sunday.
I did neither.
The following morning Dad texted.
They were leaving Raleigh earlier than planned.
No mention of the money.
No suggestion of another visit.
I read it.
Then put the phone down.
Weeks passed.
Jovi called.
“You heard about the store?”
“No.”
“Darcy closed it.”
I sat down.
“She did?”
“The sign is down.”
“What happened?”
“Big clearance weekend.”
“She sold fixtures.”
“Moved inventory home.”
“Worked something out with the landlord.”
“Is she okay?”
“I think so.”
“Still mad at you.”
“I assumed.”
Jovi laughed.
“She’ll survive.”
“How do you make everything sound simple?”
“I’m twenty-two.”
“That’s fair.”
Life continued.
Work filled my calendar.
Coulter kept showing up.
Sometimes Harlan stayed with Rowan.
Sometimes Coulter stayed with me.
Sometimes we went to the grocery store together without pretending it was romantic.
One evening he opened my refrigerator.
“You have six mustards.”
“They have different purposes.”
“That is exactly what someone with six mustards would say.”
I threw a dish towel at him.
I still missed my family.
I sent the girls a small package.
Sable mailed a thank-you note covered in purple stars.
Theda sent a drawing of the three of us standing beneath an enormous yellow sun.
I taped both to my refrigerator.
Six weeks after the Raleigh visit, Mom called.
Her first sentence surprised me.
“Is this a good time?”
I looked at the clock.
“Yes.”
Pause.
“I’ve been thinking.”
I waited.
“When we came to Raleigh…”
Her voice sounded tired.
“I barely asked about your job before I started asking what your condo cost.”
I said nothing.
“I kept telling myself you were fine because you always handle everything.”
Another pause.
“I think I used that as an excuse not to pay attention.”
I looked toward Theda’s drawing.
“I’m not ready to pretend everything is normal.”
“I understand.”
That was all.
No demand.
No sudden reconciliation.
After the call, I sat quietly.
The next evening, I told Coulter.
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know.”
“Okay.”
He rinsed a plate.
I smiled.
He looked over.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“That was convincing.”
Outside, a car passed.
Inside, we kept washing dishes.
Three months later, Darcy contacted me directly.
Not through Mom.
Not through Dad.
A direct text.
Store is officially closed.
Online business is covering itself again.
I stared at the message.
Then typed:
I’m glad.
A minute later:
I’m still angry with you.
I considered several responses.
Finally:
I know.
Then:
I’m still angry with you too.
Three dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Returned.
Fair.
That was the entire conversation.
It was also the first honest one we had had in years.
Winter passed.