Page 147 of The Holiday Hate-Off
“Sorry,” she says. “But you’re not. And I think we can all agree that someone probably stole Enzo’s cell phone. But he’s a big, strong man, and I’m sure he’s fine. In fact, I’ll bet whoever took his phone is going to have some serious regrets about it. Enzo will be coming back anytime now.”
“Tree’s fallen across the road into town,” the bartender calls out. “So any of you expecting out-of-town guests might want to call them.”
Crap.
Abandoning my cider, I head up to the counter. “The road into town’s really blocked?”
“Sure is,” he says. “The mayor and his family are working with the crew to get it open before the town dance. Not a great time for us to get blocked off. Say, you heard from Enzo?”
“No,” I say in a sour voice.
He lifts his hands defensively and turns to a different customer, not that I blame him. I wouldn’t want to deal with me either.
I head back to the table.
Charlie purses her lips. “The messages seem to be on a delay today. I sent one to my parents earlier, and it still hasn’t gone through.”
Tears press at my eyes again, wanting to be released.
“I just need to know that he’s okay,” I say, finally letting some of them fall. “If he’s changed his mind about me, that’s fine. I understand.”
“Give me your cell phone,” Charlie says and presses her mouth into a tight line.
I do, and I watch as she types a message to Enzo’s phone:Did you hurt Enzo? If so, get ready to have your skin peeled from your cowardly hide.
“You said the messages were on a delay,” I say, tears streaming down my face.
“Oh, he’ll get it eventually. And he’ll respond. I promise. If the dude is this afraid of Shannon, he’ll definitely answer a message like that. He’ll squeal like a little pig.”
“Let’s talk of happier things,” Eileen says. “Why don’t we each share a lovely Christmas memory?”
Wayne rolls his eyes, but I notice he doesn’t attempt to leave.
Later, Eileen encourages me to come to the dance and keep her company. “We’ll drink cider and listen to music and think happy thoughts. Your man is coming home, my dear. I feel it.”
I wishIfelt it.
I go with her, because I might as well go with her. There’s nowhere else I want to be, nowhere that will make me any less miserable with worry.
At the town dance, there’s no sign of any Cafieros, even though the road is now open. So while the rec center is decorated beautifully and full of holiday cheer, I’m cold and numb inside.
My phone finally buzzes in my purse. I pull it out eagerly and discover a message from Enzo on the spiderwebbed screen:
Oh, shit. I’m sorry. This is Barry. I’m on this epic bender, and I took your dude’s coat by mistake because it was in my cubicle at work. And, yeah, I’m sorry. No need to get violent, man. A woman did me wrong, but it wasn’t cool for me to speak for Lorenzo.
Some of my worry is soothed away. Enzowasrobbed, but by an idiot. Still, I have no idea where he is or whether he’s coming home, or anything.
Do you know where he is?????
Surprisingly, the response comes quickly:
Naw, man. But he’s not at his place. I went there to try to give him his things back. Really, I did. His car is in the parking deck, though.
Dude, I didn’t try to steal it, so don’t think that.
But I tried the key fob just to see, you know?
I rub my forehead. The Christmas music spouting over the speakers in the rec center is giving me a headache suddenly.
