Page 16 of Free

“Here.” I reach in and grab her under the arms, carefully lifting her out of the truck and placing her on the ground. Pain shoots down one leg and up my spine, and I grit my teeth to keep from showing it. I used to bench twice her weight without thinking twice. There isn’t a single thing left of the man I used to be.

“Thank you.” Charlie stares up at me, then averts her eyes to smooth her skirts. The walls between us are coming back up again. Brick after brick settling into their rightful place.

That’s fine.

It’s fucking fine.

It’s better for her that way.

We make our way to the food truck and Fred DiMarco, the owner, operator and all-around good guy slaps a hand to thecounter. “Well I’ll be damned. Nick Hutton. You clean up all right, dontcha? How’d you land someone like this lovely lady? You know what? Never you mind. I’m just honored you decided to celebrate your special day with me.”

Charlie and I exchange a look. Her jaw drops and her eyebrows lift before she turns back to Fred.

“Oh no. Nick and I… we aren’t…” She gestures between us. “I mean, I know what it looks like but…” She looks to me for help.

I hold up my hands. “Yeah, no. We, uh, Charlie’s awesome, I mean, she’s really great, but we…”

…would be together if I didn’t know she’s better off without me…

“We’re going to a costume party,” she supplies, sounding too relieved to have found an answer for the lie to be convincing.

Fred roars in laughter. “Hell, you two. Don’t hurt yourselves tryna make your point. You look good together is all and whatever the prize is for that costume party, you’ve got it in the bag. Now. What can I getcha?”

Charlie looks around for the menu and Fred erupts into laughter again.

“Now see, that wasn’t fair of me to ask ya, seein’ as it’s a trick question. We only serve one thing and it’s the best darn chicken sandwich and fries you’ll ever meet. I’ll fix you up two helpings right quick.”

“A chicken sandwich and fries is a religious experience for you?” Charlie whispers as Fred busies himself with the griddle. “You might need to check in on your relationship with God.”

I flare my hands in a wait-and-see gesture. “It will be for you too, in just about five minutes. You’ll see.”

We stand together, awkward and silent while Fred cooks, whistling to himself. When he finally slides two red plastic baskets onto the counter, my mouth starts to water as the smell wafts our way.

Charlie lifts an appraising eyebrow. “That smells delicious.”

“I source my chicken locally. Organic, free range, all that. Grow and dry the herbs myself. Now the exact blend is proprietary, but you better believe I’ve spent years perfectin’ it. The buns, they’re made fresh daily and the taters for the fries are grown in my garden. It’s a labor of love, and I swear, you can taste the difference.Bon appetite, friends.”

I pay Fred, then grab the baskets and lead us to a picnic table sitting beneath a palm tree, with the ocean lapping against the shore several yards away. Charlie takes a tiny bite of her sandwich and chews thoughtfully, widening her eyes in appreciation.

“Considering I kind of feel like I want to throw up, and that still tastes amazing, you might be onto something with that religious experience deal.”

I lift my brows in a face that says, “I told you so” and take a hearty bite. “It helps that Fred’s a great guy. He’s right. You can taste his kindness in his food. I started coming here after—” I clear my throat “—after I got home last year and, I don’t know, sometimes this chicken sandwich is the best part of my week.”

Charlie chews. Then swallows. Then suddenly, a stricken look crosses her face and she puts the sandwich down.

“I really should tell my parents where I am. They’ve got to be worried sick. My brothers probably have Davis in a chokehold and I bet Angela is a mess. I left my phone at the church. Nobody knows where I am.”

I laugh gently. “I’m not so sure that’s true.”

“I don’t even know where I am, Nick. How can anyone else?”

“My phone’s been going crazy since about five minutes after we left. It seems people are aware you’re with me.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

I put my sandwich down and swipe a napkin over my mouth. “Because you needed to be in a better place before you dealt withthat mess. They can be mad at me for not telling you about the calls instead of mad at you for taking the time you needed to process what happened.”

Charlie frowns, her pretty face drawing tight, her eyes bouncing across my face. The wind blows in off the ocean, fluttering the wax paper lining our red plastic baskets.

---