Page 37 of The Auction
I pushed my cart past him, found the brand I was looking for, picked up the bags and then let Kevin ring me up. When I got back to the truck, Creed was waiting there to lift the two bags into the truck bed.
At least he was good for some things.
“Any problems?” he asked me.
I shook my head. “Nope.”
I got in the truck and he got behind the wheel. I noticed when he pulled himself into the truck, he had an envelope stuffed in his back pocket.
“You got actual mail?” I asked him.
“Don’t sound so surprised,” he muttered.
“Uh, dude. I live with you, remember? You have no family you speak to, no friends you text or call or who call or text you. You are…what they refer to in the biz as a lone wolf. So yeah, I’m surprised someone sent you something.”
“Oh, and you and your girlfriends are constantly on your group chat gossiping away.”
He was being facetious. There was no group chat,obviously. One had to have a phone for that. Besides, it was hard to make friends when you lived on a farm and were homeschooled your whole life.
It’s why I’d only heard about April Talley being sweet. I didn’t actually know her.
Herb preferred my isolation.
“You know what? You’re right. Herb’s dead. It’s time I stop living his version of my life. We should go to Ruby’s and get lunch. Be seen.”
“Seen,” he repeated.
“Yeah. We’re two people in this town. A fucking couple. Maybe there is a couple in Ruby’s we could chat up. Start having game night and shit.”
He looked at me like I was crazy.
“Do you not realize how messed up we are?” I asked him.
“Baby, that’s why we work,” he said. “Because we’re exactly this messed up.”
“I should have friends,” I muttered, as he started the truck. “Maybe if I’d had them, this wouldn’t have happened to me.”
He didn’t say anything after that because there was nothing to say.
But he did take me to Ruby’s after we finished our grocery shopping. He bought us two pieces of pie and two cups of coffee.
Ashley, a waitress with thick, dark hair and glasses, about my age, at one point smiled at us and asked us if we wanted refills.
It was nice.
TEN
JULIETTE
“So who wasthe letter from? And who writes letters these days, anyway?”
We were back at the farm, standing next to each other in the kitchen while unpacking the groceries. Creed had splurged on two jars of Hellman’s. For back up, he’d said. Like there was a possibility of encountering a mayonnaise shortage.
“People who don’t have my phone number. It’s a…former colleague,” he said, putting away the stuff on the higher shelves.
“Like a Navy buddy?”
“Something like that. He wants to come for a visit.”
