"You bet your ass."
I snorted as she marched into the kitchen and rummaged around in the pantry. A few seconds later, she emerged with a full scoop of the food I kept in a plastic dog food container on the floor.
As soon as she approached the back door, Gary backed up a few steps, dropped the bowl and scampered off. I bit back another snort as she tiptoed to the door and took her time to look from side-to-side, even crouching to look up at the gutters, before she opened it. Watching her, I couldn't resist. I moved forward on bare feet until I was a couple of steps behind her. She didn't notice my reflection in the glass because she was too busy looking for Gary in the bushes.
Finally, Sierra took a deep breath, unlocked the door, leaned out as far as she could, and dumped the food in the bowl. The moment she closed the door and locked it, Gary bounded out of the bushes and stared down at the bowl. Then, he looked at her, looked back down at the bowl, glared at her one more time, and only then did he begin to eat.
"Ungrateful asshole," she muttered.
I took that moment to grab her waist and yell. Sierra screamed and jumped straight in the air, the cup flying from her hand and landing on the floor behind us with a ping.
I immediately started backpedaling when she whirled to face me, fury in her face and vengeance burning in her eyes.
Before she could speak, something hit the glass behind her, which made her jump once again and turn toward the door. I took her moment of inattention to move as far away from her as I could. There was another ping and I realized Gary was flinging food at the door. I held back the laughter as well as I could.
"I'm going to get ready. We'll be leaving in an hour, so get a move on."
I'm not ashamed to say I ran away before Sierra could even reply.
An hour later, I leaned my hips against my car with my arms crossed over my chest. Sierra snuck out of the front door but the toe of her sandal caught the edge of the welcome mat and she stumbled forward. She managed to kick over two of my potted plants and a cute wooden pinwheel my mother had given me last year before she faceplanted next to my flowerbed.
I sighed and walked over to her. Her head popped up when I grabbed her arms to haul her to her feet.
"Where in the heck did you come from?" she groaned, brushing grass and dirt off the front of her shorts and tank top.
"I've been waiting out here for the last ten minutes."
"Ugh," she groaned. "I thought I beat you! I can't believe you cheated!"
"Cheated? Me?"
Her eyes cut toward me. "You left the radio on in your bedroom. You knew I'd think you were still getting ready."
"Sucker," I taunted.
"Shut up. Shit, I forgot my coffee." Sierra started to turn to go back into the house but I grabbed her arm. "Don't worry. I made you a travel mug. It's in the car. I also have a machine at the shop, so I can brew more later if I need to."
"I guess I can forgive you for cheating then," she muttered, turning to face me again.
In the bright morning sun, I saw that she had dark circles under her eyes, visible even beneath her make-up. She looked as if it had been days since she'd had a decent night's sleep. That worried me. Sierra might be a night owl, but she usually got a good night's sleep when she finally went to bed. Last night was a late one for both of us, but it usually took a few days before she looked this ragged.
Sierra walked past me to the car and plopped down in the passenger seat. She yawned as she buckled her seat belt.
Another shaft of worry pierced me.
I climbed in next to her and buckled my seat belt as well. As I backed out of the driveway, I said, casually, "Why didn't you tell me about Brian when you told me you wanted to come visit?"
Sierra shrugged and stared out the window. "There wasn't anything to tell. He thought we were serious, I didn't. I hurt him." Her head turned back toward me. "And I wanted to avoid the postmortem because it makes me look like an asshole." She paused for a second. "Besides, I was bored and it's been two years since we've seen each other. It seemed liked a good idea until today. If I'd known you were going to make me work for my room and board, I would've gotten a hotel room."
I ignored her blatant guilt trip because, well, she offered to help and I wasn't stupid.
"No other reason?" I asked.
"No," Sierra replied.
She fell silent, alternating between staring out the passenger side window and sipping from the travel mug I'd filled for her.
I wracked my brain for a roundabout way to ask for more details about the situation with Brian. Obviously, it was more than what she'd said at my parents the day before. Sierra had been my friend for almost a decade but she was still an extremely private person. She hated talking about herself and her personal problems. I'd often wondered if it was because her parents had been so distant when she was growing up and she was unused to talking about things that were bothering her.
