Page 17 of The 7 Rules of Moving On
Sliding the ten-dollar bill back across the bar, Trig told her, “Billy is the only person I let call me Drew. He used to babysit me. Do you have any idea how amazing it was being babysat by a baker? He used to make me these apple things—”
“Turnovers,” Billy supplied.
“Right. And fresh bread. Cupcakes.” Trig rubbed his belly. “So good.”
“He’s like frickin’ Mary Poppins,” Kissie said, climbing down from her stool. “Billy Poppins.”
While Billy’s blush escalated from apple-red to a Chernobyl-like event, Kissie wondered if she should get the man an ice pack, maybe some iodine pills.
“I’m gonna head up to my room,” she said. “It was nice to meet you, Billy.”
“You too,” Billy started. “I don’t think I caught your name.”
“Kissie,” Trig said, her name on his lips sending shivers all the way up her spine, straight into her hair.
“Nice to meet you, Kissie,” Billy said with a knock-out smile.
“Have a good swim,” Trig told her.
“You too,” she said, then she palmed her forehead, laughing at herself. “Wait. You’re not going swimming, right?”
Laughing back at her, he shook his head. “Not tonight.”
“So why did I say, ‘You too?’ I hate that! It’s like at the movies or when you’re getting on a plane.”
“They say, ‘Have a nice flight—’”
“And dingbats like me say, ‘You too’.”
“Same.” He shook his head, rueful. “Every single time.”
“Anyway,don’thave a nice swim, Trig.”
“I definitely won’t,” he replied, and she walked slowly out of the bar, imagining him staring at her ass the entire way.
* * *
An earthquake hauledKissie out of a dream about baking heart-shaped cookies in an oven that looked like the space needle.
“What’s happening?” she blurted out, ripping off her sleep mask. “Dawn, wake up. We need to hide in the tub.”
When Dawn started coughing, so loud it rattled the wall hangings, Kissie realized it wasn’t an earthquake shaking their room.
Leaping off the bed, grabbing her sleep mask and throwing it over her mouth, Kissie said, “Are you ill?” while backing all the way into the corner. “Have you become ill?”
Dawn rolled over, and when she coughed again, Kissie shrieked, “How did you get sick?!”
“Jeff was sick last week, I guess. But I’m not sick. I never get sick.” She tried to sit up. “I’m just dizzy. And my head hurts. And my throat feels like hamburger.”
After making the sign of the cross, Kissie edged toward the door. “I’m gonna go get you some cold medicine, okay. You lie back down. Stay put.”
Reaching out her hand, her eyes red and wild, Dawn croaked, “No. Don’t leave me.”
Kissie winced, recoiling. She loved Dawn more than anyone, but even that love didn’t extend to spending the weekend coughing in bed with her.
“I’ll be right back. I promise.” Inching out the door, she snicked it shut behind her and raced down the hall.
TRIG
