Page 93 of Over the Edge

“Thanks, I really needed that image in my head.”

“Well, what did you expect?” she scoffs. “This thing is a piece of Hartsfall history.”

“What are you in the mood for in town?”

“Let’s get something pumpkin flavored that will go straight to my ass.” She slaps her side for emphasis.

I keep her in my periphery as we get coffee. She does her usual thing, complimenting a stranger’s geode necklace then pulls up a seat at their table. It’s the reason she always kept her waitressing jobs the longest. She was able to upsell the shit out of things and get great tips.

Her distractibility was also usually how she got fired. Still, the money was always the best then, and I was able to hide generous amounts away for when we needed it.

I risk a glance at my phone since she looks settled for at least a moment.

Eve

Ok?

Garrett

I’ve got it handled

Eve

Promise to tell me if you need reinforcements?

I hesitate for a moment; not about what to say, but to feel the weight of truth the word holds. I trust her to show up if I need help and it's a relief to send my reply.

Garrett

I promise.

With her pumpkin spice iced coffee and my cappuccino in hand I head to the table with the young couple who are completely under her spell.

“Here he is. You have to know his music; you must have heard of Fool’s Gambit. He plays at the festival, you know. I watch the livestream every year.” Lana pats at her jacket and then starts to dig into her bag. “I have to have a pen somewhere. I bet we can get an autograph.”

“Yeah, sure. That would be great,” the man says, even though he doesn’t sound completely certain about the situation. The woman next to him is wide-eyed and eagerly nodding.

I usually avoid being recognized in Hartsfall. Mostly, the couples that visit are so involved with each other they rarely pay any mind to anyone else around them.

Lana finally manages to pull out an empty envelope and a pen. “Here, sign this. Oh, do you want a picture?”

Going along with the situation, I sign the paper. Its edge is coffee stained and I have no doubt it will end up in the trash orrun through the wash after it’s forgotten in a back pocket. “Let’s get going, Lana. We’re interrupting.”

I don’t leave it up for discussion and she must hear it in my voice because she gets up and replaces the extra chair.

“Come on,” I mutter.

She loops an arm over my shoulders and I try to ignore the weight of it. She’s only a few inches shorter than me thanks to the platforms on her shoes, so she’s able to manage it. “Don’t be like that. Let a mother be proud.”

“You watch the festival live streams?” I ask.

“Last year I watched from Paris. The time difference was a bitch. I was in one of these hotel robes sipping on espresso and the Eiffel Tower was sparkling in the background. Almost as good as being here in person. You loved the festival so much even before you were in it. There was that fortune teller you went to every year. Remember?”

“Yeah.” I went every year with one question. The poor woman with her shitty smoke machine had to come up with new answers each time.Is it going to be an okay year?Even then, I didn’t ask if it was going to be good, okay was fine enough.

I force my mind to only grab at the relevant details. I don’t know how to feel about her being supportive. It could be for show, for attention, that’s not out of the question. It’s the first time since she showed up on Evelyn’s doorstep this morning that I’m truly tempted to entertain her. Could she actually be back because she cares?

Honestly, it’s fucking confusing. Why the hell is she here if she knows it will jeopardize the money I’ve been giving to her? Her watching live streams is nice and all, but it’s not like she’s been sending her appreciation my way. No doubt she’s been doing exactly what she just did in Love is Brewing. I make her look better. It’s what I’m used to, it’s the dynamic we’ve always had.

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