Page 25 of David's Chase

Sighing, she grabs her keys and purse.

“Well, things will settle down, and we’ll get back to our old lives. Speaking of that, when do you plan to take your car to the shop?” my mother asks as we enter the garage.

“Soon,” I say curtly before opening the door and getting into the car, hoping to avoid the topic altogether.

“You need to take care of it. You can’t rely on buses and other people to give you a ride.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it,” I say confidently, clutching my phone.

She gives me a double take.

“What’s going on?” she asks curiously, slowly stepping on the gas and backing away while I check my phone.

“Nothing.”

I slide my phone back into my pocket and lean back in my seat.

She glances at me again before focusing on the road.

“It’s Chloe,” I say.

“What is it?”

“You know the story. She called me, and I couldn’t talk to her. And then I said I’d call her, and I forgot about her and fell asleep. I tried to call her again, and she didn’t answer.”

“Maybe she’s out.”

“She’s probably out,” I say, eager to stop talking about her.

It wasn’t my intention not to talk to her, but things kind of slipped out of control.

Everything I said to my mother was true.

Chloe didn’t return my calls, and now I wrestle with guilt because I didn’t call her when I said I would.

It’s not like her to get mad at me for something like this, but I’m still a little nervous.

We’re the last guests to arrive at Thea’s place.

It’s hard to believe a wedding took place here last night. The tent is gone, and the backyard looks impeccable.

The table is set in the dining room, and the patio doors are open. Rain is here. And Dahlia is here. And Eve.

It’s mostly us, the girls.

I happen to sit between Rain and Terry, and I do my best not to look half asleep or come off as impolite and too damn quiet.

I am quiet.

I’m so afraid the first words falling from my mouth if Rain had turned to me and asked me if I liked the wedding party would be something like…‘I had sex with David Moore in a motel room. And then he gave me some money and a car, and we did a lot of dirty stuff.’

So, to prevent that from happening, I focus on the appetizers and drink a lot of wine.

At some point, my phone rings, and I fish it out of my pocket and quickly run a napkin over my lips.

“Excuse me,” I say to no one in particular. “I need to take this.”

My mother softly touches my arm.

---