Birdee
She sat staring at me for long moments after I’d explained everything that I knew, and I wondered if she believed me.
“I don’t have the full story,” I whispered just as the waitress left with our food orders. “I just know that he’s not dead. And he misses you. Oh, and he’s living in the same area with several other ex-cons. So this has to be very hush-hush.”
I hoped that I hadn’t just made a huge mistake.
Because I really liked Creed, and I wanted him to be happy.
And I had a feeling that Bernice would make him happy.
Her breathing was coming faster and faster, and I leaned forward as a shot of adrenaline coursed through my veins.
“Hey, are you okay?”
She scrambled for her purse, and I watched in avid horror as she pulled out an inhaler, yanked the cap off, and pressed it to her lips.
She inhaled two deep puffs, then capped the inhaler and stared at me in shock.
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
“Are you okay?” I asked again.
She licked her lips as she seemed to search for the words.
Then she said, “Who are you to him?”
I bared my teeth in embarrassment. “Not really anyone to him. He’s just someone that’s helped me out. He actually hit me while I was on my scooter driving home. And I think he feels guilty so he gives me rides to and from work sometimes.”
She shook her head. “Are you sure it’s him?”
“I have a photo on my old phone of him. It’s not a great one since I took it through the window of my work,” I said. “I’ll show you when we get back.”
She didn’t say much for a long time.
So long, in fact, that the food came out and she still hadn’t said a word.
“How’d you find me if he didn’t talk about me much?” she asked after she’d eaten half of her soup.
I tugged on a loose curl before admitting, “I had my friend internet stalk you with the very limited information that Creed shared about you, and I overheard him talking about you to his friend. A friend that I think was responsible for covering up his prison escape.”
She shook her head, as if she couldn’t quite believe my words. “This is unreal.”
Then she promptly burst out crying.
I leaned forward, placing my hand on hers. “Are you okay?”
She blubbered for a solid five minutes as our food cooled.
The waitress kept tossing surreptitious looks, as if she was afraid that she might have to call medical personnel, but Bernice eventually got it together.
When she did, she looked me right in the eye and said, “Where do I go?”
I arrived back at my place around midnight the day after I’d met with Creed’s sister.
My eyes were heavy, and my shoulders were tight, as I hauled all of my crap out of the Uber and headed for my front door.
