Page 43 of Tucker
“Somethingstrong if you have it,” he murmurs.
Luckily,I have a bottle of bourbon that Derek drinks when he visits sometimes, so I pourhim a glass and sit beside him on the couch. He drains it and turns to me. Mystomach knots at the pain in his eyes.
“Tucker,what’s wrong?”
“Doessomething have to be wrong for me to visit you?”
“Ofcourse not. I’m glad to see you, but I can tell something is eating at you. Youcan tell—”
“Shedied,” he interrupts.
I’mnot sure I heard him correctly. “I’m sorry, what…”
“Kathidied. This morning.” He gets to his feet. “I shouldn’t have come here. I don’tknow why I did. I need to go.”
Mycomprehension finally catches up and I grab his arm. “No, sit with me.” He maynot know why he came, but I do. He’s in shock and none of his other friendseven know about Kathi. He needs someone.
Hedoesn’t reply, just stands there as if he’s considering it. I wrap my armsaround him and he stiffens at first before relaxing into my embrace. “I’m sosorry, Tucker. At least she isn’t suffering anymore.”
Ifeel his body shake with a suppressed sob. “Come home with me. Just fortonight.”
“Ofcourse. Let me get a bag together, okay?”
Nodding,he steps back and leans against the wall.
Itype out a quick text and send it to Zoe, Ayda, and Sadie.
Sosorry. Work emergency. Going to have to postpone girl’s night. Next weekend?
Sadieand Zoe both respond with an okay, but Ayda calls.
Ianswer, keeping my voice down as I pack an overnight bag. “Hi, sorry. I knowit’s last minute.”
“Iseverything all right?” Ayda asks.
“Yeah,just, it’s the last day of school and there’s more to do than I expected.” Ihate lying to her, but I don’t know what else to say. “Can we do it nextweekend?”
“Sure,I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’mfine. Really. But I have to go.”
Tuckerlooks up when I return with a small suitcase and I think I see the corner ofhis mouth twitch up. “Do you ever travel light?”
Thetruth is I packed enough for a few days including clothes for a funeral,because there’s no way I’m letting him do this alone. “I’m a woman. We nevertravel light,” I reply, grabbing my keys and purse. “I’ll drive.”
“ThenI’d have to leave my truck here.”
“I’lldrive your truck. You look exhausted.”
Witha shrug, he hands me his keys. Yeah, this isn’t the Tucker I know who would’vefought me to the death over this just a few months ago.
“Let’sgo,” I tell him.
Hetakes my bag and tosses it in his truck and we hit the highway toward hishouse. “Do you want to talk about it?” I ask after a few minutes of silence.
“Notyet.”
“Okay,well, have you eaten today?”
