Chapter 8: Removed From Everything

I read the email again with my legs still around Wes's waist.

Nineteen thousand four hundred dollars, for flowers I had already bargained down to nine thousand myself.

"Somebody told the florist she was me," I said.

"Somebody was holding your card."

"She has the number. I gave it to her for the deposit."

Wes lifted me off the bench and set me on my feet, and he fixed my shirt for me with both hands.

"What do you want to do?"

I did not guess.

"I want to cancel all of it, tonight."

I typed with my thumbs, standing in a boathouse with sawdust on my knees.

"I did not approve any upgrade. Cancel every order under card ending 4417 and remove the card from your system. Do not charge it again."

I sent it, and then I sent the same to the venue and the band.

The florist's auto-reply came back at once: Our office reopens Monday at nine.

"Monday," I said. "That's four days of her spending my card."

"Not if the card is canceled. Call the bank."

"It's midnight."

"Then call at nine." He sat on an overturned bucket with his jeans still open, watching me. "You went quiet."

"I'm angry. It's different."

My phone buzzed again.

A white notice slid across the top: You have been removed from the shared album "Us, 2015 to now."

Then another.

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