Page 27 of Wild Hit
I nudge her with my elbow. “Including me?”
“Yes, including my newly made friend, Miguel Machado,” she says in such a dry tone that I can’t help chuckling. For the first time today, it makes her mouth quirk with amusement, though. “And also, why should I uproot my life over this jerk?”
“Damn right. He’s the one who should get packing.”
“Exactly!” She smacks her thighs. “But how? How do I make him go away permanently? Like, I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but this is the one time I’ve ever regretted being single.”
“Huh? I’m not making the connection there.”
She twists to face me, bending her leg over the bench. “Don’t you get it? If I was already spoken for, these two wouldn’t be trying to use me for a transaction, which is ironic because that’s why I’ve always wanted to stay single. So I don’t have to be manipulated by men.”
“Now I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but then… Why don’t you just lie?”
She blinks up at me.
So I clarify. “Say you have someone.”
“They’ll want to know who it is.” Her eyebrows crease.
“Lie about that too.” I shrug, grinning. “Make someone up. He’s 7 feet tall, a scientist for NASA, and you only see each other during the weekends. Bam.”
“7 feet tall?” she asks, her mouth remaining open in confusion.
“I thought you’d be more impressed that he’s a NASA scientist.”
Audrey smacks me on the arm softly. “Stop. Unfortunately, it’s not that simple. My dad alone is like a dog with a bone. He’ll hire a private investigator to find out every detail of my alleged boyfriend if I don’t give him enough satisfactory information. And I can’t just magic a real one out of thin air.”
That makes something click, but it’s too weird to say it. I close my mouth and my teeth make a clacking sound that catches her attention.
Now she’s looking at me funny, and I feel funny, and the thoughts in my head are funny—but not in a ha ha way, in an I-better-not-say-what-I’m-thinking way or else she’s going to think that I’m as creepy as the Henry guy. But the idea keeps mocking me because, with different words, I had the exact same thought a few days ago when I found out that only a woman who is related to my daughter can join her for her school event.
I jump to my feet and pace away. “Nah,” I say to myself. I grab onto the cross at my neck, and it’s the only thing that keeps me from freaking out.
“What?” she asks from behind me, still at the bench.
“Never mind, we’ll find another solution.”
“Miguel,what?”
I stop pacing with my back to her. Slowly, I glance over my shoulder. “You won’t like it.”
“Trust me, I’ll like staying curious even less.”
I run a hand down my face and place my hands on my hips in the quintessential dad-pose. Leaning my head back to face thesky, I ask it to give me a sign about whether I should say this or not. An airplane flies overhead, and if that’s the sign I don’t know what it means.
Click-clacks take Audrey to stand before me again. She copies my stance down to the width of her feet. “Spill.”
I draw in a deep breath. “I also have a problem.”
“I’m all ears and no mouth,” she repeats my own words.
I tap my fingers against my hipbones. “Marty told me why she was upset.”
“Oh?” That makes her entire demeanor change. If anything, she looks even more worried now.
“Yeah, there’s a school event that requires her mom so Marty can attend. But her mom is in Cambodia.”
Audrey does a double take. “Not exactly around the corner.”
