“I can only imagine,” Ethan started. “No, I can’t even imagine. I’m a fucked-up mess, and I lost afriend. She lost her son.”
“She’s holding it together somehow. She asked about you.”
“She did?”
“Yep. Even though Danny nevercame outto her, mothers know.” Ethan could hear the hesitation in her voice before she added, “I think Danny may have seen your relationship as more than he let on. Now, I’m admittedly speaking out of my ass here. Still, his mother knew about you and that you were a special person in his life, which leads me to believe she was aware you were together.”
“Whoa,” Ethan said. “I kind of wish Danny had said something to me. I purposefully never allowed myself to develop feelings for him—well, at least not romantic feelings. He was also so crystal clear with his intentions. I always thought we were on the same page.”
“Danny was a complicated man. That’s for sure. I think he loved you the best he could.”
“Sadly, I guess we’ll never know,” Ethan said, his voice trailing. He wiped a tear away from his eye as he closed his eyes and attempted to hold back the rest of the flood works building inside him. “So, switching gears. Have you talked to Zach?”
“Yes,” Stephanie said. “They’re all worried about you. They know you’re in Houston.”
“Really? How?”
“The FBI tracked you down.”
“Holy fuck!”
“Yeah. Your producer or manager—you know, one of them—pulled some strings to get them to look into your disappearance. You need to call him.”
“I will. I promise. I need to work out a few things in my head before I do.”
“Can I at least tell him we’ve talked?”
“Sure. I wouldn’t ask you to hide that from him.” He pondered what he should say next. He knew Zach and the guys had a right to know he was safe, but he still wanted a few days to figure everything out for himself before he headed back. “I guess I should at least respond to his texts.”
“That would be a start,” Stephanie encouraged. “Well, I have a meeting in ten minutes and need to prepare for it. I’ll call you when I get home. Cool?”
“Of course, it is.”
They said their goodbyes and hung up. He pondered for a moment what he wanted to say in his text to Zach. He finally started typing.
I’m safe. Something happened in my personal life, and I needed a few days to get over it. I don’t want to get into it in a text, but let’s just say I needed some serious alone time and didn’t know what else to do. I should be back in New Orleans by the end of the week. I promise to explain to everyone when I get back.
E.
* * * *
Blayne
After his seminar in Educational Theories, Blayne swung by Flip’N Pizza to pick up an order he’d called in when he was leaving campus. Flip’N or F’N Pizza, as most people called the place, was a local establishment created by a second-generation Italian family. By sight, if not by name, Blayne ate there enough that he knew everyone. Rosolino, the matriarch, sat behind the cash register. Blayne guessed she was in her late seventies or early eighties, but she still had the energy of a woman half her age.
“Mr. Dickenson, good to see you this evening. Your order’s almost ready. I noticed you ordered more food than usual. Have a date tonight?” Rosolino asked with a playful smile and a wink.
“Nope. But I have a houseguest in from New Orleans who’s staying with me.”
“New Orleans, did you say? Awful business there with what happened yesterday.”
“What happened?” Blayne asked, with a puzzled look swimming across his face.
“The Peregrine Airlines explosion?”
“I guess I’ve been a bit too preoccupied to have even seen the news. I know nothing about it.”
“Well, the news is reporting some serious equipment failure after the plane collided with one of those stupid drones during takeoff.” Blayne watched as the old woman beckoned him to lean in closer before she whispered, “Between you and me, I think the CIA assassinated someone. I mean…how did they determine the cause of an explosion this quickly when most of it is still somewhere in the swamp?”
