“That’s gotta suck. Maybe your plan should be to lock up your computer for a month, or six months, or a year,” he said. “In the meantime, you can go on a vision quest to rediscover your muse.”
“Yeah, right, my muse.” She laughed. “Sorry, but that’s not a real thing. If I waited to be inspired by some kind of muse, I would simply never write.”
“So a muse is not a real thing like the way you thought writers’ block wasn’t a real thing?”
Shayla looked at him. “You’re, like, the world’s best listener,” she said. “I never actually realized there might be a downside to that.”
He ignored her. “You write love stories, right?” he asked.
“Romances,” she corrected him. “Love stories are diff—”
“Okay, yes, sorry, you writeromances. Two people meet and earn their happy ending.And they lived happily ever after. How do you write stories like that when your heart’s been vaporized? How did you describe it? A complete Alderaan.”
“And you know what?” Shayla told him. “Here’s what Ishouldbe thinking.Wow, Lisa’s an idiot, because this man would win the Olympic gold medal in relationship communication.Instead, I thinkWhat kind of freak remembers that kind of detail? Why is he paying such close attention to the things I say? When is he going to turn into a monster?”
And there it was.
Peter glanced at her again, his eyes narrowing. “Did Carter…? Nah, there’s no way you’d let Tevin and Frank near him if he—”
“Beat the shit out of me?” Shay asked. “Damn right, I wouldn’t. No, it was Kate, my best friend—former best friend—who kept needing to go to the emergency room. But she wouldn’t leave him—her husband. She kept coming to me for help, and I kept thinking,This time she’s finally going to leave and be safe,but she always went back, and I couldn’t take it—having my hopes dashed like that. And I knew I had to put distance between us, because I wanted to save her even though she didn’t want to be saved, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t stay away, and I pushed too hard, and he finally managed to turn her against me. She cut ties with me, completely. She changed her phone number and…I know they moved about a year ago, but I don’t know where. Every now and then I email her, hoping…But she never responds. And all I can do is force myself not to think about it. About her. But it’s always back there—my dread of what’s coming. Because someday he’ll kill her, he will—that’s how it works—and all of his friends and co-workers will finally goOh, my God, he seemed like such a nice guy, maybe that crazy lady who sent us those emails saying he was a monster wasn’t lying after all. But Kate’ll be dead and I’ll hate myself even more than I do right now. And until then, and maybe for the rest of my life, as a bonus, I’ll look hard at every man I meet, thinking,Is there a monster hiding under that good-natured smile?AndHow doyouabuse your wife or girlfriend, when no one’s around to see?And when I’m in areallydark place, I’ll think,Well, maybe you’re one of the ‘good’ ones, and you’ll only lie and cheat, the way Carter did—the way I’m pretty sure he does to Tiffany right now.” She forced herself to laugh. “And please don’t panic. I know this all is extremely heavy. And see, this is why it’s a really good thing that you and I are just friends—who occasionally go out on dinner-dates so that I don’t disappoint my boys, thank you very much.”
“No expectations, no strings, no chance of getting hurt,” Peter said. “I get it now. I do. I’m glad you finally told me that. And you’re right—you can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved. You just can’t. But, Jesus, I’m so sorry…” He glanced at her again. “For the record, I would never…I’m not…”
“I know,” Shay said. Or, in truth, shethoughtshe knew—and as he glanced at her again, she knew thatheknew what she was thinking.
“Time heals all wounds,” he said, then smiled. “Since I’m not a writer, I’m allowed to use clichés. But it’s true. Time is really the only thing that can counter broken trust. I’ve experienced that, from both ends. My heart was also vaporized,” he reminded her. “But I’ve recently discovered—to my surprise—that it grew back. Yours will, too.” He glanced at her. “And maybe, when it finally does, you’ll be able to write again.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Dingo came out of the motel office and got back into his car. “It’s eighty-nine dollars, plus taxes and something called a resort fee, which is insane. This place should have a shithole fee, instead.”
“That’s too much,” Maddie said.
“I know, but I think we should stay here anyway. Well, you should. I’m going to sleep in the car.”
She was incredulous. “Then, what’s even the point?”
“Mads, I’m not sleeping in a motel room with you. In the morning, I’ll come in to take a shower. Andthat’sthe point.”
“Not really,” she argued. “We might be clean, but we’ll still stink because we’re wearing these shitty, dirty clothes. We’re not far enough from Manzanar, anyway. Just,drive.”
He sighed as he pulled out of the motel parking lot and onto Route 395, and tried his accent. “Lookit, love, I’m exhausted.”
“So then let’s find a side street,” Maddie said. “Here. Turn left—East Inyo Street—it looks like it goes back behind the high school.”
He took the left, shaking his head at his own lack of backbone as she continued, “Let’s just drive until we don’t see any more houses, and then pull off and sleep. I really don’t want to spend any more money—all dinner did was make me tired again.”
They’d had some pretty decent BBQ for a relatively low price—the early-bird special—but she was right. Dingo’s full stomach was making it even harder to keep his eyes open.
“I’ll do this,” he told her, “but we’ll just take a nap. I’ll set my phone alarm for a few hours, okay? And when we wake up, we’re finally going to talk. About keeping that meeting tomorrow with Shayla and your father.”
She sighed, an exaggerated exhale of exasperation. “God, Dingo.”
“Not God,yes,” he pushed. “Yes, Dingo, we’ll talk.”
“All right,” she said.
“Say it.”
