“I’ll see you tomorrow, boss,” he said, picking up his lasagna. His gaze slid over Wyatt as he pushed his way out the door, and Wyatt felt his heart skip a beat.
“Del’s really stressing out, huh?” Justin asked.
“He took a lot of calls today,” Wyatt offered.
“I’m just gonna wash up,” Justin said. “You want to hang here for a few minutes and we can walk back together?”
“Sure,” Wyatt said.
Justin disappeared into the locker room.
Wyatt zipped up his now-empty backpack and crossed over to the notice board under the television. There were a few postcards pinned to it, sent from workers on holiday or those who’d moved on, and a couple of notices about community events around Yucaipa. There was also a letter from the local kindergarten kids—their names scrawled all over it in colorful marker—thanking Abbot’s Organic Produce for donating to their food drive last month. Eventually, Wyatt knew, that one would be taken off the notice board and put in the folder Justin kept in his study at home.
Justin was back within a few minutes, flicking the locker room light off behind him, and then crossing to turn the air-conditioner off. Wyatt grabbed his backpack and stepped outside, and Justin locked the door behind them.
As they approached the parking lot, Wyatt saw that Izzy was still there. He had the hood of his car up and was peering at the engine underneath.
“Izzy,” Justin called. “Problem?”
Izzy straightened up, glowering. “Fucking thing’s crapped out on me!” And then he winced. “Uh, sorry. You know anything about cars, boss?”
“Not much,” Justin said, walking over to him while Wyatt hung back a little. “But even I know the belt shouldn’t be hanging off the engine block like that.”
“Shit!” Izzy spat the word. “Guess I’m not driving it home tonight, huh?”
“I guess not,” Justin said. “Have you got someone you can call?”
Izzy seemed to consider that for a moment before he nodded. “Yeah, I’ve got a friend who might come get me, but he works until late.”
“Come over to the house then,” Justin said. “We’ll put your dinner in the refrigerator, and you can eat with us and hang out there until your friend can get up here.”
Izzy looked uncertain for a moment, his jaw clenched like Justin was asking him for his firstborn child instead of extending an invitation to dinner, and then he nodded at last. “Yeah. Okay, thanks.”
Izzy looked over to where Wyatt was standing, and some expression crossed his face that Wyatt couldn’t read. Then he slammed the hood down and wiped his hands on his jeans, the corner of his mouth quirking up, and Wyatt didn’t know how to read that hint of a smile any more than he knew how to read anything else about Izzy.
“It’s not gonna be a problem?” Izzy asked. “Having an extra for dinner?”
“Trust me, you’re doing us a favor at this point,” Justin said.
Izzy nodded and fell into step with Justin and Wyatt as they walked home.
