“Yeah, I figured.”
“Do you think I’m an asshole for taking it?”
He did turn to me then. Put his hands on my crossed arms and gave me a tiny shake.
“Are you kidding? They’ll chew you up and spit you out and not think twice about doing it. The press, the political party, the campaign—Christ, even your own parents. I say take what you can when you can. Hold out for what you want and try to navigate the waters so that you’re calling as many shots as you can.”
“There won’t be many I can call.”
His hands softened on me, but he still hung on. And damn, but I was grateful that he did.
“I know. But play it like a chess game—look three moves ahead, know what pieces are the most valuable to them and protect your assets.”
“You play chess?” I asked, with maybe too much incredulity in my voice.
His hands dropped away, and I was sorry I’d said it. “Nah, more of a checkers man, myself.”
He grinned, but I knew I’d hurt him. Man, when I try it doesn’t work, and when I don’t want to…bullseye.
We sat in silence, just looking ahead, both lost in our own thoughts. Or maybe he was lost in mine, because when he finally spoke, he said, “So, like, would your mom ring the gate bell or anything? Leave a flaming bag of dog shit and run?”
I smiled, imagining Pandora running back to the car in her spiky heels after depositing a bag of poo.
“No, she’d just stare at the house. Sometimes mumbling, sometimes not.”
“And your sister and brother were raised here?”
I nodded. “Yeah, it was the house they lived in when Joe and Caroline split up, so she stayed with the kids. I think she was looking for stability in Joey’s and Betsy’s lives. Even though she had lots of other choices.”
“Yeah?”
“She came from money. Old, political money. That’s why she and my father made such a great team—were considered the perfect match.” I let out a small snort that perfectly conveyed my opinion of that vision. “The house on the cape where she and the kids summered was a family home. And there are more. When her parents died, she inherited a boatload of money and properties, but she always stayed in this home. The one that she lived in with my father.”
“I’ll bet that pissed your mother off even more.”
I looked at him. “You catch on quick, son,” I said. He gave me a tip of an imaginary cap. The wind kicked up just then and his hair blew against his face. Without thinking, I reached over and pushed it away, back, even as the wind blew mine across my eyes, temporarily blinding me.
Which was just as well. I didn’t want to see what expression Stick had on his face with my fingers in his wavy hair.
“So, how long since you were last here?” he asked. His head moved into my touch, and I kept my hand there for a moment before removing it, ostensibly to brush the hair from my own face.
“Oh, let’s see. I was maybe eleven or twelve. It took me a second today to remember this was the way to her house.”
“And yet you kept driving this way,” he said, pointing out that which I would have left untouched.
“Yeah. Playing the masochist card?”
He laughed, and God it sounded good amongst all these ghosts.
“Careful—that will lead to the pity card, and before you know it you’ll have a whole damn deck.”
I smiled. “You’re right. Let’s go. Enough of this maudlin bullshit. I love Bribury, I’ve got great friends and now I have Yvette. Yes, there will be a bunch of bullshit coming up with the campaign, but right now, right here, life is good.”
He moved to face me, his back to the Stratton estate, blocking it from my vision. He stepped into me, his jeans brushing mine, his hoodie touching my coat. Lifting a hand, he brushed a finger across my cheek, then tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.
“Yeah, about that. I’m sorry, but I think I’m about to fuck with your ‘all is right, right now’ vibe.”
“What do you mean?” Was it because he was going to kiss me? And would that mess with my vibe? Or make it better?
