Chapter 13: Day Trip

Bailey got off the 6:10 train with a gift bag in one hand and her arms already open.

"Jo!" she said, and hugged me in the middle of the platform until my ribs hurt.

She smelled like vanilla, the same as always.

"I've felt sick for days," she said into my hair. "Wylie went too far. I told him. I told him the minute I saw your face in that car."

"It's okay," I said.

It was not okay, and every part of me was ready to say so.

I had decided on the walk to the station that I would say nothing.

Lindy stood two steps behind me with her arms folded and her round glasses flashing.

"This is Lindy," I said. "You've met."

"At the Fourth of July thing!" Bailey said. "Your hair is so good."

"Thanks," said Lindy. "I'm told it's loud."

We took her to the café by the insurance office, where Cal was already in a corner booth.

He had come on his lunch break, in his clinic polo, with his sleeves pushed up.

I had told him I wanted him there, and I had not told him why.

He stood up and shook Bailey's hand.

"Cal," he said. "I fix backs."

"Oh, you're the one!" Bailey said. "Jo's told me nothing, which means it's serious."

I hadn't told her anything.

I kept my face still, and Cal's thumb touched the back of my hand under the table once and went away.

Bailey ordered a latte with oat milk and a salad she didn't eat.

She talked about Fairmont and the heat and how Wylie hadn't slept.

She brushed off the shortlist with careless ease.

"I'm still in shock," she said. "I didn't even study. Wylie says luck is a skill."

"He would say that," Lindy said.

"Are you sitting April, Jo?"

"I'm registered."

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