Page 2 of Her Wicker Guardian

They know things about me too. Not everything.

My phone buzzes on the folding table.

I recognize Trent’s name before I’m close enough to pick it up, and the laughter goes out of me all at once.

“I should get this.”

Nobody asks who it is. I take the phone and walk beyond the pavilion, far enough that I can lower my voice without feeling ridiculous.

“Hi.”

“Where are you?”

“At Parks and Rec. We just finished.”

“You said you’d be done by six.”

I check the time. 6:23. “It took a little longer.”

“It always takes a little longer.”

I turn toward the parking lot. “I’m leaving soon.”

“Have you been drinking?”

The plastic cup is still sitting beside my gloves.

“I had some wine.”

“So you’re driving after drinking.”

“One glass, Trent.”

“You said some wine.”

I close my eyes. “One glass.”

Behind me, somebody laughs. Shannon, probably. The sound makes something inside me ache with the sudden need to be back under the pavilion instead of standing here explaining twenty-three minutes to my husband.

“Who’s still there?” Trent asks.

“The women I’m working with.”

“You’ve been with them all day.”

“Yes.”

“So come home. Now.”

My fingers tighten around the phone. “I said I’m coming home.”

“Then why are we still having this conversation?”

Because you called me.

The words make it all the way to the back of my throat and stop there.

“I’ll see you soon.”