“I feel weird saying this, but Ithink he liked it tonight.” I read the note again, waiting for the missingsoul-crushing put down, but I couldn’t find it. I mean, it wasn’t like thenicest thing I’d ever read, but it lacked Killian’s flare for sending me totherapy. He’d even offered to help me.
Wyatt snorted. “He likes everythingyou make.”
I tore my eyes from the note andgave Wyatt a look that questioned his sanity. “Obviously, he loves everything Imake. Which is why he’s always insulting me. I’m sure it’s just how his tiny,cold heart shows affection.”
“Vera, seriously. Last month hefired a dishwasher because they turned the kitchen radio station to country duringclean-up. He doesn’t tolerate bullshit.”
“He didn’t really fire someone forliking country music.”
Wyatt’s lips twitched. “Okay true.He was constantly late and had three no-shows. He might have had it coming. Butthe country station thing was the last straw.”
I considered my revenge for a longtime before settling with something as equally anticlimactic as Killian’s hadbeen. Turning the paper over, I scrawled back a response. It would have beenbetter if I could have written it in magazine cutouts, but there was no time,man!
Saltwants me to say that I’m not being held against my will.
Imean, I love being held against my will.
Imean, I love salt.
Ithink it’s Stockholm Syndrome.
Sendhelp.
I passed the note back to Wyatt and cappedmy pen before sticking it somewhere in the dangerous abyss of my hair.
He looked at the note, then at me.“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“No diabolical present? No maniacalthreat? No trip to the feed store?”
“Go away, Wyatt.”
He touched the corner of the foldednote to his temple and meandered back across the street to his side of thefence.
We watched Wyatt disappear throughthe side door ofLilouin silence. As soon as thedoor slammed shut behind him, Molly asked, “Really, what did the note say?”
I turned around to stir my chili.“He called me unoriginal and made a lame joke about salt.”
“Huh.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
“So do you think he’ll stop bylater?” she asked quietly since a few customers had stepped up to the menuboard.
“Yeah.”
Her feet hit the groundemphatically. “You do?”
“He’s stopped by before,” I remindedher.
“You sound super sure tonight. Didyou invite him over?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
She couldn’t let it go. “Then how doyou know?”
I shrugged. Because he offered helpand I jokingly asked him for it. But I didn’t tell her that. For some reason,it felt like an inside joke between Killian and me and I was reluctant to shareit with anyone else. “Gut feeling.”
