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She studied me like she was trying to decide if I was filtering. I hoped to God she didn’t ask me for more information. As irritated as I was by this, I didn’t want to throw him under the bus and I didn’t want to lie to her.
She started to get up. “I’ll go home with him—”
“No, they got him. He just needs to sleep it off. I’ll drive you home.”
“Did he throw up or something?”
“No, no. He’s just ready to go.”
She looked at me another moment, still trying to figure out if there was more. She must have decided she didn’t want to know. She reached into her purse and pulled out the keys to the truck.
“I’ll be right back,” I said.
I handed them to Jesse through the door. “Text me when you get him home,” I whispered. “I’ll check on him tomorrow. And if he’s too drunk, get Donna or Janessa up to stay with him.”
He nodded and took off.
When I came back into the room, Larissa was texting someone. “He didn’t pick up,” she said.
“He’s really out of it,” I said. “Don’t worry, they’ll take care of him.”
She pressed her lips into a line and nodded, her eyes fixed on an antique globe in the corner. “He doesn’t do this a lot, right?” She looked at me. “Drink too much?”
I paused. What to say to this?
Did I think Mike was an alcoholic? No. Did I think he had a tendency to overdo it occasionally? Yes. Was this starting to become a problem? Maybe.
“I think you should talk to him if it’s bothering you,” I said.
I was going to talk to him too.
She chewed her lip and nodded.
Then we just stood there.
“Sorry you have to drive me home,” she said, glancing at me. “I know how much you hate that.”
“Knock it off.”
“Are you even the closest one to my house?” she said, putting a thumb over her shoulder. “Because I can ask around.”
“Are you done abusing me now? Can we get going?”
She crossed her arms. “Wow. In such a rush to get rid of me.”
“Do you blame me? Look how mean you are.”
She was laughing as she walked past me to the door.
I followed her down the hall and she turned to walk backward. “Can I ask you a favor?”
“What?”
“Can we take a little detour?”
“For?”
“I got a secret shop request for a picture of a billboard,” she said. “It’s sort of on the way.”
