Page 82 of The Fall Out

“Oh, Avery, I forgot to tell you.” Wren clapped once our drinks had been brought out. “You know that Stonehenge print on the wall in your bedroom? The one by John Constable?”

I nodded and picked up my beer. “It’s Dad’s favorite.” I tipped my head his way.

I wasn’t into art the way he was. Or like Wren. She was obsessed, hence her career as an appraiser.

She sat a little straighter and turned her attention to my dad. And for maybe the first time in her whole adult life, she spoke to him like she did the rest of the population. “Really?”

He cleared his throat. “Just before I was drafted into AAA, I spent some time traveling around England. Salisbury was one of my favorite stops.” He stared off into the expanse of the bar, his expression far away. “Stonehenge fascinated me, and I fell in love with that painting. I’m a fan of Constable in general. I have a few of his prints.”

Wren rested her elbows on the table and tucked her hands under her chin. “How did I never know this about you?” She shook her head and waved the thought away. “Anyway, the original was delivered to the auction house today.”

“Isn’t that at the MET?” Dad lowered his chin and focused on his beer. He was acting weird.

She smiled. “The family wants it priced. They aren’t sure they want to sell, but…” She shrugged. “Who knows.”

“Hmm.” My dad still didn’t look up. Not until his name was being called across the restaurant.

“Wilson.” A tall, good-looking man was heading toward our table. He wore a gray cashmere sweater and slacks that were tailored to him perfectly. His brown hair was crafted into the perfect side part. He looked like a shiny penny. Almost the opposite of Chris, who was a backward hat and ripped jeans kind of guy.

“Jude.” My dad stood and shook hands with the man. Then he turned to us. “Jude, this is my daughter, Avery, and her friends Wren and Jana.”

I held out a hand to shake his, trying not to compare his warm palm to Chris’s as it wrapped around mine.

“Are you here with anyone?” my dad asked.

“No.” He waved a hand dismissively. “I just ate at the bar.”

“Want to join us for a drink while we wait for our food?” My dad slid into the chair next to where he’d been sitting so he was closer to Wren, and Jude dropped into the one next to me.

Jana lifted her hand and waved it between Jude and my dad. “How do you two know each other?”

“I’m the sports editor for theBoston Globe.” Jude paused and scanned the table, wearing a smirk, like he was waiting for us to be impressed. He looked to be in his thirties. He was probably on the young side for such a prestigious job. I guess it was something to be proud of.

“Cool,” Jana finally said.

“Do you know that Mr. Wilson coaches the team?” Wren’s comment was pure sarcasm.

He chuckled and ran a hand over the front of his sweater. “Really? I hadn’t heard. Just like I hadn’t heard that the Revs are sniffing around UConn.”

My father chuckled. “No work talk tonight.”

Jude nodded and put both hands up. “Heard.”

The waitress brought out our burgers, and Jude ordered an IPA. Then he focused on me and asked what I did.

“I’m a vet at the Boston Zoo.”

He sucked in a quick breath. “That must be rough, at least lately.”

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, surprised by the interest I saw in his expression.

“I follow the Instagram page and saw you guys have been dealing with a lot of sick birds for the last few weeks. I was worried about Wobbles.”

Our snow owl had spent two weeks in the animal hospital.

“Yeah, I can’t tell you how much time I’ve spent reassuring people on social media that Wobbles and Sarge are okay.” Jana shook her head. “It’s become my full-time job.”

“Well, Boston loves them.” Jude laughed.

---