The wind that flooded her car as she drove, with both windows down, nearly froze her despite her hat, scarf and heavy coat. But she didn’t close the windows. The cold helped her stay numb, which, at this point, seemed infinitely preferable to feeling.
It wasn’t easy to pass the businesses as she drove through town and to realize she’d never see them again. Booker Robinson honked and waved as they faced each other at Dundee’s only intersection, but she couldn’t even wave back. The cold had turned her blood to ice. She felt as if she could hardly move, except to press the gas pedal and put as many miles as possible between her and this town.
Briefly, she wondered where she was going. But that seemed too big a decision to make right now, while her brain was functioning on automatic pilot. She’d go wherever the highway took her and get a motel room when she became too tired to drive.
Finley’s came up on her right, the Arctic Flyer on her left. Hair and Now, the library, the Honky Tonk. Lucky wanted to find the anger she’d felt when she’d left Dundee at eighteen; she wanted to hate this place. But she couldn’t. The hate and the anger were gone.
Now all she had was a broken heart.
BARBARA HILL SPOTTED Mike’s Escalade in her rearview mirror just after she pulled out of Finley’s parking lot. She couldn’t see his face very clearly, but she could tell he wasn’t smiling. She wondered whether he’d spoken to Lucky after she did, whether Lucky had told him about her visit. She hoped not. If Lucky would only make good on her promise to leave right away and not come back, Barbara felt they could ignore the fact that she’d ever returned in the first place.
Barbara didn’t like the picture that came into her mind when she thought of her son with Red’s daughter, but Mike was single and nearly forty years old. It probably wasn’t any big deal that he’d had a fling with a girl like Lucky. If only Mike had been more discreet, Barbara wouldn’t even have had to know. As long as Lucky wasn’t a real threat to her son’s heart, she preferred not to know.
Mike followed her all the way home, where she found Josh’s truck already parked out front.
Once she pulled into the drive, she took her time getting out.
“Where have you been?” Mike asked, meeting her as she opened her car door.
She nodded toward the backseat. “Could you grab the groceries?”
“I will as soon as you answer me.”
“While I was getting my hair done, Sheila Holley mentioned that you’d gotten into a scrape with the Smalls, so I stopped by the police department to talk to Officer Orton.” She left out the part about driving to the Victorian afterward. “You know his wife’s a friend of mine. We sing in the church choir together.”
Mike studied her as though trying to read her thoughts. “You should’ve called Dad. We were worried about you.”
“Why were you worried? I’m fine. And you’ll be glad to know that while I was at the police station, Dave Small called. Smalley’s dropping the charges.”
He didn’t seem particularly relieved, but he retrieved both bags of groceries. “Good. Now I won’t have to file charges against them. They were in the wrong, not me.”
She realized he probably expected her to request his side of the story, but she already knew Lucky played a significant role in it, and she didn’t want him to talk about her. She didn’t want to hear how he’d defended her. She didn’t want him to so much as mention Lucky’s name. She was too afraid she might detect something in his voice she’d rather not hear.
Lucky was leaving. Nothing else mattered.
“All’s well that ends well, I guess,” she said and started up the walkway.
He followed her with the groceries. “All’s well that ends well?”
She turned back and actually managed a smile as the tightness in her chest—the panic—slowly receded. Everything was going to be okay. Lucky might be a lot of things, but she’d seemed sincere about leaving. Soon, the world as Barbara knew it would return to normal. “Don’t you agree?”
“Mom, I think maybe it’s time for us to talk about—”
“I don’t want to know any more, Mike.” She opened the front door and waved him into the house. “I’ve heard enough for one day.”
He frowned before walking past her. “That’s all you’ve got to say to me?”
“That’s it. Now let’s eat. I bought some seasoned tri-tip steak that should be fabulous.”
“WANT SOME more potatoes, Mike?”
Mike shook his head at his brother’s question. Josh had asked him twice if he wanted another helping of potatoes. Rebecca had offered him seconds, too, before she left the table to see if she could get a cranky Brian to nap in the back room. Mike would have pointed this out to Josh, except he knew his brother was only trying to compensate for their father’s morose silence. Larry sat brooding over his meal and had barely spoken to Mike all evening.
“What about salad?” Josh said. “You get enough of that, too?”
Mike glanced up. “I’m fine on salad, Josh. Thanks.”
Josh sent him a lame grin. “Sure thing.”
“What are your plans for New Year’s, boys?” Barbara asked. In the face of Larry’s surliness, her false cheer seemed more forced than ever.
“I thought I might take Rebecca to Boise for dinner,” Josh said. “It’s been a long time since we’ve been to Asiago’s. She loves that place.” He gave her a sheepish look. “Any chance you’ll be available to baby-sit?”
“Of course.” She poured herself a third glass of wine. Mike couldn’t help noticing that she was eating little and drinking much, far more than usual. “What about you, Mike?”
“No plans,” he said.
“I’ll bet Mary Thornton’s free. I ran into her at the grocery store and she seemed pretty sad that you don’t call her anymore. Maybe the two of you could go to Boise with Josh and Rebecca.”
If Mike had needed proof that his mother wasn’t quite herself, this suggestion would have confirmed it. Josh had dated Mary before he’d married Rebecca, so Mary’s company wouldn’t be very appealing to his sister-in-law, and Barbara knew it.
“Maybe,” he muttered. Mike had taken Mary out a few times, too, very casually. He wasn’t interested in seeing her again, no matter how obvious she made it that she’d like a relationship with him. But he thought it wiser to sidestep the whole issue.