Page 94 of Cross My Heart
He shrugs his shoulders. “Anna hated the cold, and honestly, after Tate was born, she never wanted to go on vacation with us anyway. She made a few girls trips, but now I wonder if she actually went with her girlfriends.”
I hate the way he looks when he talks about her. I know in some ways Dex feels as if he failed. Someday, I hope he realizes he didn’t.
I point him in the right direction and we slowly make our way down the mountain. There is only one bar she would be at, it’s a few towns away and has had dollar drafts of the most disgusting beer I’ve ever tasted. She was always about the deals when it was her money on the line.
In good weather, it would take us twenty minutes to reach it, with the snow it might take closer to forty. “Are you sure you don’t want me to drive? I did grow up in this stuff, you know, I’ve been driving in it for years.” I stare at Dex again, his knuckles are white and his hands are at ten and two. His eyes don’t leave the road.
“Ah, I don’t want to sound like a sissy, but since our lives are at stake, I’m thinking that might be a good idea.”
I laugh at how easily he consents, but I direct him to the next pull off. Some things in this town never change, it calms me. Getting behind the wheel, I try to focus on the road, not what kind of hell I’m walking us into.
Dex
Chapter 35
Lanie is quiet the rest of the drive. I don’t talk either because I’m too worried about her attention remaining on the road. I cannot believe people live out here and drive in this shit regularly.
What happens if you break down? Do you even get cell service out here?
Having been here once before, I knew the town was small, but in the snow? It’s like my own private nightmare. I never realized how much of a city boy I am until right now.
Lanie slows the car as we begin entering a town. It looks like a ghost town at night, all the buildings seem to be at least a hundred years old. It gives it a quant feeling that I’m guessing is much less creepy in the daytime. She takes a left down Main Street, and I feel myself pumping an imaginary brake. Lanie is driving slowly enough, but the steep incline of the road has me on edge. Shocking me completely, she pulls over halfway down and puts on the emergency brake.
“What are you doing? We can’t stay here, the car will slide down the road.” She laughs at me and puts her mittens back on after opening the car door. “Are you serious right now? This is where you’re going to park?”
“Yes, Dex. This really is where I’m going to park. The bar is right over there,” she nods with her head, and I follow her line of sight.
I try not to make a face, but it takes a lot of work. With an old barber sign out front, I can tell the bar is in the basement. Steeling myself for what we are about to walk in on, I tell her, “I trust you, let’s go.”
I walk around the front of the car and notice Lanie has stalled in her seat. I quickly round the corner. “Hey, sweetheart, are you okay? We don’t have to do this if you’re not ready, you know that, right?”
She nods but doesn’t answer, so I lean in and hold her tightly in my arms. After a few minutes, she mumbles into my jacket.
“I’m-I’m ready, let's go.”
I pull away, looking her over and praying to every god out there that this doesn’t break her. Taking her hand, I lead her across the snow-covered street.
“Laa-nie Heart, is that you?” I hear a woman slurring her shouted words as we land on the opposite sidewalk. Then I hear Lanie mutter something under her breath, but I don’t catch it. I glare up at the drunken woman and I’m relieved to notice she is way too young to be Lanie’s mother. This young woman seems to be Lanie’s age.
“Hi, Jillian,” Lanie says, “how are you?”
“I’mmmm good, how is you? Who’s this? Not your boyfriend obv-obviously,” the drunk girl blurts out.
“Obviously,” Lanie copies back. “Good to see you, Jillian, have a good night.”
“Always did thinks you was better than us, didn'tyou, Lanes?” Jesus, are we going to get into a fight before we even enter the building? Thankfully, Lanie ignores her and drags me into the building.
Pulling open the door, I immediately have to duck. I may have an inch of clearing before my head hits the drop ceiling. Shit, I hope we can get a seat soon. Looking around, I’m surprised by how packed it is.
Lanie leads us through the crowd, yelling over her shoulder, “the Wednesday before Thanksgiving is always crazy because all the kids that left for college are back. Everyone goes out to catch up,” she explains.
Walking through the bar, I take note of all the different people here. Young professionals, the old farmers, kids that are home from college, the ones who float around, it really isn’t that much different than some of the bars at home.
We are halfway through the crowd when Lanie stops so suddenly, I run smack into her back, almost knocking her over. I’m about to ask her if she is alright when I glance up and notice a woman sitting with her back to the bar, staring right at Lanie. A look of disgust all over her aging face.
I recognize her immediately. Not because Lanie looks like her, but because I recognize the hatred in this woman's eyes, it’s the same loathing Anna had the last time I saw her.
I would imagine in her younger years, Lanie and her mom could have passed as sisters, now she looks like a woman who has led a hard life of drugs and alcohol. Leaning down, I whisper, “are you ready, sweetheart?”
