Page 55 of Plunge

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Fletcher

I SLEEP UNTIL after noon. It feels so luxurious, getting six hours of sleep at a time in addition to the snatches of rest I got overnight. I’m glad Louie seems to have turned a corner, because I don’t think I could keep this schedule up for much longer.

I stretch in the bed and roll onto my stomach, where the pillow smells like rosewater and Thistle McMurray. I’m grinning like a fool as I check my email on my phone. I send out a few messages to Emily and finally decide that it’s time to face the mess downstairs in my living room.

When I get down there, it’s not half as bad as I worried it would be. Thistle and I had pretty much finished eating when we kicked over the tray tables to devour each other. There’s a few stains on the carpet from the spilled beer, but overall, not too bad.

By the time I get it all scrubbed up, I can feel my stomach trying to digest the rest of me, so I decide to swing by Archer’s office and see if I can take my girl out to eat.

I walk over there and turn the knob, but the door doesn’t open. I squint, looking in through the glass window, and see him bent over his monitor, deep in concentration. I can hear blaring music coming through the walls of the office building, but I don’t see Thistle anywhere.

I try tapping on the window to get his attention, and it takes a good while before he looks up and jumps, startled. As I gesture at the door, he stares at me, bleary-eyed and finally gets my meaning.

“Dude, Archer, what the hell?” He smells like he hasn’t been home from the dance last night and based on the stubble and dark rings under his eyes, I suspect I’m right with that theory.

“Did you bring food?” His face falls when I shake my head. “Aw, shit.” He walks back into the office and turns off the music, slamming the lid to his laptop shut. “Come on,” he says. “Buy me a sandwich.”

I shrug and look behind him. “Does Thistle want to come with us?”

He looks perplexed and starts pushing me toward the door. “She’s gone, dude.”

“What do you mean? I just saw her.”

“I mean she’s gone. Back to New York, leaving me all alone here to deal with the fucking business filings on my own.”

I freeze in my tracks on the sidewalk. “Do you mean to tell me Thistle left Oak Creek and went to New York City. Just like that?”

Archer shrugs and sprint-walks to the Insomnia Bakery, shoving the door open and begging Jess for a ham-pickle sandwich. My head is reeling with this information. I pull out my phone and call Thistle, but the call goes right to voicemail. She’s either got her phone turned off or she’s ignoring my call.

I try to replay what she said to me this morning, and all I can remember is that she said she had to take care of some things. Archer seems pretty messed up, but our mom is always saying he gets that way when he’s working too hard. I thought that Thistle was supposed to be helping him out with all of that and working on this new gig part time.

“Something doesn’t add up,” I say.

Archer shakes his head while he chews. “Do not talk about math with me right now,” he says. “I’m on a fucking break, and it’s probably the only one I’ll get today.”

I get my sandwich to go and walk back home, trying Thistle every few minutes, feeling my heart start racing. Logically, I have no reason to suspect she’d up and leave town for good a few hours after we had amazing sex.

But why is my brother such a wreck and why the hell isn’t she answering her phone? I decide to go for a run, and I swing by her house. No Gullwing. I keep running, and when I get outside of town, I keep going to the physical therapy place, even though there’s no sidewalks.

I catch sight of her mother, walking herself back to that damned station wagon. No Thistle. I start feeling panicked, like I did ten years ago when I couldn’t find my girlfriend and nobody would tell me what the hell was going on. I start remembering how it felt to realize people were making decisions around me and not including me, and I run so fast I start puking.

“Damn it,” I shout, wiping my mouth on my arm. I can’t live like this. I can’t get back to this mental state each time my girlfriend goes off grid for a few hours. I don’t even fucking know if she’s my girlfriend, and I can’t live with that kind of uncertainty, either. This is all starting to feel like a huge mistake.

I’m feeling trapped, panicked. All right, hurt. Why wouldn’t she talk to me before leaving town?

I plunk down on a bench and pull out my phone to call up Emily. If Thistle is going to deal with work shit and not discuss it with me, I’m going to do the same. We both knew our careers ain’t stationed in Oak Creek. “Hey,” I say, as soon as I hear Emily pick up. “I’m going to Bahrain early. I’m going to get everything set up.”

“Well, there’s the boss I know and love,” she jokes. “Am I emailing you your ticket or are you able to order it your own damn self?”

“You know I have no idea how to do that, Emily. Do I need a work visa?”

She laughs. “I’ve got all that set up for you anyway. I’ll change the date on your ticket to tomorrow. Meet you over there, boss.”

We hang up and my mouth feels like it’s full of cotton. I try Thistle a few more times and my calls go right to voicemail. I remind myself that she’s very important at her job. I sure as shit don’t answer the phone when I’m in the stadium.

I pack up my shit. Most of my possessions fit into two roller bags. I’ve got a few things in a storage unit outside of Oak Creek, but otherwise, I’m fully mobile. I can leave in a flash, and that’s how I like it. That’s how I need it. I’ve had enough of trying to fit into the pace of this family, of this town.

I walk downstairs and see a picture of me and Louie hanging on the fridge, something Hunter printed off from his phone. I stare at it for a long time, noticing that Louie has changed a ton already in just six weeks. Seven weeks? I rake a hand through my hair. This is the longest I’ve been in one place for ten years.

No matter what the hell is going on with Thistle I need to clear my head. Get back into my groove at work. I need to get the hell out of here just so I can clear my head.

I stuff the picture into my jacket pocket and walk over there. If I’m going to ask for a ride to the airport, I figure I can at least kiss my nephew goodbye.

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