It occurs to me then to ask someone who may have a better idea of what is going on, even though I’d have to be absolutely out of my mind to follow through. But something happened the other night. I felt it. She felt it too. So I decide that in the morning, I’m going to track down the old lady from the parking lot.
And hope she doesn’t really want to gobble me up.
My Thursday shift at Santo’s ends at seven, long enough to take the brunt of the dinner crowd but early enough to avoid the late-night stragglers. Harlin never materializes, which sort of hurts. But then I remind myself that he’s practically a stranger and I have much bigger things to worry about.
I’m distracted as I think about the old psychic. During a lull in customers, I corner Mario behind the counter and ask him if he knows of a woman who hangs out in the parking lot. He scratches his neck where his tattoos poke out from the collar of his uniform shirt and stares blankly at me.
When Margie walks by, I ask her and she says the only psychic in town is Madame Marceline. She lives on Mission Boulevard and is, as Margie puts it, “bat-shit crazy.” I thank her, and plan to find the woman in the morning.
Abe’s been silent through most of the shift—which is totally unlike him. He hasn’t even mentioned the fact that he asked me to dinner. I think he’s changed his mind.
I’m a bit deflated by the time I punch my timecard at 7:05, and take out my phone to call my house. If I’m going to be stuck there, dinnerless, I should at least bring some burritos with me.
On the third ring Lucy picks up. “What?” she says, her voice low and irritated.
“Hey,” I respond, furrowing my brow. “It’s me. It’s Elise.”
“Oh, sorry. Hi.” She doesn’t go on, and across the room Abe walks in, eyeing me curiously.
“I just got done with work,” I tell Lucy, “and I was checking to see if you wanted me to bring home food?”
“Naw. Dad made mac ’n’ cheese.”
“Ew.”
“Exactly.” She makes a soft groan off-line.
“Are you still having pain?” I ask. “Lucy, this isn’t normal. I’m going to tell Dad.”
“Please don’t,” she says. “Just stay out of it, Elise.”
“Out of what? And no, I won’t stay out of anything. In case you’ve forgotten, ignoring medical problems doesn’t exactly make them go away.”
My sister is quiet, and I feel my eyes begin to tear up. It wasn’t right of me to bring up our mother like that. But I’m scared and worried. I’m not sure what else will get through to her.
“I’ll talk to the doctor,” she says quietly. “Will that make you happy, tyrant?”
I smile. “Yes.”
There’s a rustling on her end like the phone is being shifted. “I’m glad,” she says sarcastically, sounding like herself again. “I’ll see you when you get home.”
We say good-bye, and the minute I slide my phone into my pocket, Abe comes to lean against the wall in front of me. “Trying to get out of dinner?” he asks with a slight edge to his voice.
“I thought maybe you changed your mind.”
“Never.”
I like how seriously he says it, as if it’s impossible. And right now, it just feels good to be wanted—especially with all the uncertainty around me. All the worry and fear. Abe’s interest in me seems unwavering.
I wait quietly while he counts his money, checking out with the hostess. My mind swirls with all the different possibilities for dinner—not that Thistle has much to choose from. I even wonder if it’ll be romantic. And I wonder if I want it to be.
Abe meets me by the exit, a devious smile on his lips. “I’m an amazing date,” he says.
My stomach flips. “Thought you said this was just dinner?”
Abe opens the glass door and holds it for me. As I pass by him, he lowers his head so that his voice is close to my ear. “It’s never just dinner.”
And then we walk outside.
CHAPTER 9
When we get into the parking lot, the sky is brighter than it has been in weeks. I can actually see stars. I’m standing there, looking up, when Abe comes over to pluck the keys from my hand. “I’ll drive,” he answers.
“But—”
“This is a little out of the way, so you’re just going to have to trust me, Elise.” He walks around to open the passenger side first. “Sort of exciting, right?” he asks.
My heart races, nervousness churning in my stomach. This is an adventure, a new experience. I’m not one to take risks, but with Abe I almost have to. He’s so tempting.
Once inside the car, Abe adjusts the seat and pulls out a CD from his backpack before inserting it into the stereo. “If it’ll calm your nerves,” he says offhandedly as he turns up the heavy blues music, a rumbling voice rolling out of the speakers. “I won’t ruin you, Elise. I know how innocent you are.”
“Ruin? Well, glad to hear it,” I respond, smiling at his choice of words. “That would probably make for an awkward silence later.”
Abe turns, his dark eyes raking slowly over me until they stare back seductively into mine. “Or maybe I’ll ruin you just a little,” he whispers.
I hold his gaze for a second before facing the window, the parking lot outside slowly emptying of cars. Although Abe didn’t touch me, I’m covered in goose bumps—feeling vulnerable. Exposed. But I’m also drawn to him, and slowly look at him again, almost like I can’t help it. He smiles and then backs out of Santo’s lot.
The stores on Main Street are closed as we drive past, the town sleepy and empty ahead of us. I think about the old woman, and how I still have to find her. Abe begins to accelerate and I notice he’s merged onto the freeway.
I lower the stereo. “Where exactly are you bringing me?”
“You get one hint,” he says. “It involves fire.”
“Fire?”
“Yep.”
“Okay,” I laugh. “Now I’m scared.”
Abe turns the music back up, the bass vibrating in my bones. “You should be.”
* * *
It’s nearly thirty minutes later when we pull onto a sandy street in the middle of the desert. And I mean the middle of the freaking desert—only cactus and hills of sand surrounding us.
“Abe,” I say, my voice a little strained. “Where are we going? For real.”