Page 112 of Blind Luck

“Careful, I might start to feel spoiled.”

“I’m happy to hear that.”

A car I didn’t recognise was parked in the driveway at Haven’s Rest, and my brother was there too, as usual. Rusty took my hand as we walked to the door.

“If you want to leave, just say the word.”

Leave? Why would I want to leave?

I soon found out.

A woman I’d never seen before was sitting at the counter in the open-plan kitchen, her hands wrapped around a mug of peppermint tea. I studied her as she did the same to me.Her hair was brown with salt-and-pepper streaks, cut into a stylish bob, and she’d dressed in smart jeans and a peach silk blouse. She was around forty? Forty-five?

She smiled warmly as Ari made the introductions.

“Erin, this is Sarah Molineaux. A few years ago, her name was Sarah Wilkes.”

My heart stuttered. Wilkes? Not so long ago, I’d been Erin Wilkes.

“Hello, Erin.”

“Are you…? Were you…?”

She nodded. “I believe we both once had the misfortune to be involved with the same man.”

“You’re wife number one?”

“The one and only. Your friend called me with questions, and since I don’t live too far away, I thought I’d come and set your mind at ease.”

“You…you were married to Elvis?” Who was totally not the king.

“I was.”

“Absolutely, definitely, legally married?”

“Absolutely definitely. I still am, although I haven’t seen him in over two decades.”

“But your name…”

“I changed it officially, but not through marriage. My girlfriend and I are quite happy living in sin, as the Prophet would say.”

“You were a part of People’s Promise?”

“Briefly. I was young and lost, and for some unfathomable reason, I thought I might find myself in that place. Elvis was handsome, probably still is, and for about a year, I was head over heels in love with him.”

“What happened after a year?”

“I missed going out for dinner with my friends. I missed television. I missed wearing clothes that didn’t itch. When I asked myself whether I still wanted to be picking up Elvis’sdirty socks in fifty years’ time, the answer was no. Since he’d never change, I had to, and one night, I walked out of those gates and never looked back. I understand the place is pretty hardcore now, rules-wise.”

“No TV, no novels, no fun.”

“Well, you were smart to leave.”

“And I’m definitelynotmarried?”

“Not in the eyes of anyone but the Prophet. If Elvis does anything stupid like try to convince you otherwise, just you mention my name and the word ‘bigamy,’ and he’ll soon go away again.”

I couldn’t help it; I leapt around the room like a mad thing, waving my arms. “I’m not married. I’m not married! Halle-freaking-lujah!”

---