After typinghiinto the screen, I hit send, then show her.
“Jeesh. Maybe try a few more words. How about explaining why you took off?”
“Okay, Dr. Phil, how do I say I didn’t want to have the morning-after-sex talk?”
“If you had, maybe there would’ve been more corn dog dipping.”
“Oh, do shut up.” I glance down at the screen not wanting to apologize. He was the one who got miffed, not me.
My internal pop-culture-shrink pipes up.He got close and you left, hoping he will dump you.
In my head, I recall one of Mockingjay’s most famous quotes.It takes ten times as long to put yourself back together as it does to fall apart.
Take that, Oprah.
ME: I had some stuff to do today. Please don’t take my leaving the wrong way.
After I hit send, I read it off to Sam and she rolls her eyes. “You really suck at this.”
“God, this is so ridiculous. It feels like I’m walking on eggshells.”
“Men. You can’t live with them, and you can’t shoot them.”
“But you’re happily married.”
“Doesn’t mean I don’t want to kill him sometimes.” She laughs and I shake my head.
If that’s what marriage is like, I’m not in any hurry to jump in. “Don’t start looking for my bridal registry. I believe I screwed the pooch.”
She starts laughing again. “Now, all I can picture is a wiener-dog. Dash-hound? Get it?”
“Stop.” I join her and giggle hysterically.
We talk about other stuff, take a break for lunch, and about three hours later, exit the parkway and take the local roads to the place where the body was found.
She parks near a construction crew, puts a phony state inspector sign in her windshield, and hands me a spare set of binoculars.
“Look official.” She glances through the lenses and types nonsense in her computer.
“How am I supposed to do that?” This PI business is a lot harder than I thought.
“Pretend you’re bored and unhappy. Cross your arms and roll your eyes. We want them to think we’re on the job.”
“Does this ever work?” I do as she says and eventually one of the workers scratches his head and points at her car.
“See him? He’s the foreman. Pretty soon he’ll come over and ask what the fuck we’re doing here. Follow my lead.”
As predicted, the burly guy in a white t-shirt and orange vest wanders over. He glances at the notice in the windshield then frowns. “Need help, ladies?”
Sam smiles and rolls down the window. “Nope, all good. We’ll be out of your hair in a minute.”
“Can I ask what you’re doing here?” He gazes out at a screeching gull who dives into the whitecapped ocean.
“No.” She flashes another smile, lowers her binoculars, and clicks her pink nails on the keyboard. “There. All done.”
Pushing up the brim of his yellow hard hat, he wipes his forehead with a gray handkerchief. “Are you two gals state inspectors?”
She glances up at the whisps of clouds over the clear blue sky and shrugs. “Yup, but don’t worry. Everything’s fine.”
