An inkblot of an idea began to take shape.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Town
“Poet,” Archer called out as he shut the truck door.
I looked up from digging around in my purse for my keys.
“Hey, Archer,” I greeted.
He jogged across Silver Street, holding my laptop bag in his hand.
“Why do you have my laptop?” I asked.
“Brooks didn’t call you?” he asked.
I frowned. “Maybe he did. I haven’t checked my phone recently.”
“Oh. He had to run to Coeur d’Alene for an errand and thought you might want your computer. He asked me to bring it back to you.”
“Thank you,” I said, taking the bag from him. I reached into my purse for my phone and saw that I had a missed call and voicemail from Brooks.
“Ah. Yep, he called. I was at the library,” I informed him. “My phone was on silent.”
“Gotcha.”
Brooks’ brother stood there for a moment, staring at me.
“Was there something else you wanted to talk about?” I fished.
“Yeah, actually. Sweet Teeth?”
“Nah, let’s go up to the apartment. I just got a table and chairs,” I said with a wry grin, “so there’ll be a place for you to sit.”
He smiled. “Okay, if you’re cool with that, I’ll follow you.”
I unlocked the front door of the store, and he trailed behind me through the empty room, toward the stairs. When we got to the landing, I unlocked the door and went inside.
I threw the keys on the counter and set my laptop bag down.
Archer stood in the doorway and looked around the apartment.
“Well, come on in,” I invited.
He trudged across the threshold and closed the door behind him.
“Can I get you something to drink? Water? Tea?”
“No, I’m good. I won’t be here long.”
“Should we sit?” I asked. “You look like whatever you’re going to tell me is serious.”
I gestured to the table. Archer pulled out a chair and sat, and I grabbed the other chair and faced him.
“This place suits you,” he said.
“You think?” I looked around. It was still barren, but maybe I could change that.
