“Hey,” Wren says, finding me staring out at the mountain.
“Hey yourself.”
“You doing okay?”
“Sure. Yes... You want to walk back instead of taking the van?”
“Yeah, that sounds like a great adventure. I’ll tell the shop owner.” Wren ducks back inside, and soon enough we’re walking down the back path next to the river. There’s a smattering of businesses mixed in every once and a while, and a few small fishing boats zip downstream. Wren and I walk for a while in silence. It’s remarkable, all the small yards that back up against the trail.
“Mom would love these gardens,” I say.
“She would,” Wren says, and she grabs my hand, squeezing it. She doesn’t like that I’m not getting along with our parents. It puts her in an awkward situation. She did what they wanted, after all.
“That’s the first nice-normal thing I’ve said about her since they sat me down and told me they weren’t going to pay for the rest of school.”
“Well, you have every right to be mad.”
“I’ve had a while to think about it. I went in freshmen year knowing that there were only certain degrees they were willing to pay for. And I decided to see if I could get around their rules. Slowly at first, but it wasn’t smart.”
“I did like the PowerPoint you put together to convince them to let you stay an art history major.”
I smile. “It was a last grasp at trying to get what I wanted. But now...now when I finish my degree on my own terms? It’s going to be fantastic.”
Wren glances away. “Well, this job is an amazing opportunity.” She’s one of the smartest people I know. There’s no way on earth she doesn’t suspect something is up. I know it’s her birthday week, but I’m sure it’s the reason why she wanted to come for a visit so soon. And I know I said Iwould explain later . . . but this isn’t the later I was thinking about.
We meander away from the river, walking in the least direct route back to the inn.
“Those are some really nice flowers.” I take my phone out of my pocket, but it’s off.
“Leave it off. I’m having a much better time than us being bothered with airline texts, needy flight attendants, and even needier exes in your case. Is Jeff leaving you alone?”
“Yeah, he stopped soon after Roark texted him that picture. And I blocked him.”
“Are you going to explain that picture to me?”
“I’d rather not.” I put my phone away and ignore Wren’s arched eyebrow. We zigzag through another few blocks in silence.
There’s a shout from down the block, then another, but this time it’s a group of people groaning together.
“That’s okay. I’m better than you. My Eisstocks will get closer to the daube. Don’t you worry, love.” They’re gathered around a lawn game, pints of beer in hand.
“Heidi Baumann, that’s the biggest load of codswallop you’ve ever told me,” a woman with an English accent laughs out.
We stop at the gate.
Another woman holds a beer stein the size of my face. “Well, that might be true,” Heidi says.
“Hey, there, come learn our game,” the first woman calls to us.
Wren is through the back gate before I can stop her.
45
EVANDER
“What do you mean, you can’t find them?” I growl into my cell. I hit the button on the remote to close the blinds to the den.
“They went on a tour of a chocolate factory. My agent couldn’t procure a ticket. The agents waited out front, and when the van left the tour location, they followed them back to the storefront where the tour set off from. They didn’t get off the van, and when the agents traced them back to where the tour was, the owner said the women had left out the back door. I’m invoicing you for 200 euros in chocolate.”
