| |
“ALL OF THE COMPETITION over who got to paddle in this race. What did Yoshi call it, paddletics? And you could have had three more paddlers on your crew all along?”
“No need for three more paddlers,” Emma insisted. “It worked out perfect. We had six seats and six crew members. And we did great.”
“But why—oh, never mind.” I plunked down on the foot of the bed. This was typical Emma. Kathy Banks mysteriously keels over, bringing the number of Emma’s crew down to exactly six people. And Emma doesn't question it or think it seems suspicious at all. No, her response is: Great! Problem solved! Emma doesn’t know how to worry a topic to death, the way Pat and I can. Pat claims it’s a skill you can only get from being raised Catholic, although I have a few acquaintances of the Jewish faith who might disagree with him.
“Emma, whose decision was it to go iron? So there would only be six spots for people to race, instead of nine?”
“There wasn’t any decision. We just did it.”
“It was your decision, in other words.”
I wondered what would have happened if Emma had gone to the trouble of hiring an escort boat. Would Kathy still be alive today, I wondered? I didn’t share this thought with Emma. It would sound like I was accusing her.
“Anyhow,” Emma asked, “what about you? What happened last night? I was surprised to see Davison over here.”
“Yeah. You’re not the only one. Good work getting Sherry out of there before Donnie or Davison could see her.”
“Well, I didn’t want to risk any big drama right before the race. Poor Davison, did you see when he was asking about her? He was like a sad little puppy, yah? Anyway, how’d it go with Donnie?”
I glanced at Yoshi. He was grinning at his laptop screen, headphones blocking out the world around him, fully absorbed in the antics of the candy-colored cartoon ponies.
“Let me tell you how that clever plan of yours worked out. My magical evening of romance.”
“So was I right, or what? Good idea, yah? Come sit over here. I don’t wanna have to twist around to see you.”
I scooted the bulky armchair next to Emma, settled in, and related the events of the previous afternoon. Instead of being properly abashed, Emma burst out laughing. Yoshi glanced up briefly and went back to watching his show.
“It’s not funny, Emma!” I fumed. “It’s appalling!”
“Hey, opportunity knocked. Can you blame him?”
“I absolutely can blame him. And you, while I’m at it. Whose big fat idea was it not to call ahead?”
“Maybe you shoulda went for it. He’s not bad looking.”
“Ew, what is wrong with you?”
“What? You coulda helped him forget about Sherry. Eh, you haven’t gotten anywhere with Donnie yet, right?”
“Stop it, Emma.”
“I know I’ll never look at scorpions the same way again.”
“I’m never going to look at scorpions, period,” I said.
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know! Is it time to go down to dinner? I barely got anything to eat today.”
Emma peered at the clock on her computer screen.
“Oh! Yeah, it is.” She stood, turned to Yoshi, and bellowed as if she were in the middle of a live fire shooting range:
“Yoshi! We’re going down to dinner now!”
He glanced up, pulled off his headphones, and slowly worked his way to a standing position.
As soon as the elevator door closed behind us, I felt my phone humming in my bag. It was a missed call from Donnie. After the events of the previous day, I couldn’t bear the idea of spending any more time around Davison. At the same time, I had already turned down their breakfast invitation.
“It’s Donnie,” I said. “He’s probably calling about dinner. I don’t want him to think I’m avoiding him.”
“But you are avoiding him, aren’t you?”
“I think it’s time to take preemptive action.” I called Donnie back and told him I’d be having dinner with Emma and her crew. I asked him if he and Davison would like to join us.
Emma’s jaw dropped and she made wide eyes at me.
“Are you crazy?” she mouthed.
Sure, if you didn’t know Donnie that well, you might think I was taking a risk. Sherry would be with us at dinner, and if Donnie showed up with Davison, it would be uncomfortable, to say the least.
But I know Donnie. He likes to have me to himself. He only attends crowded events like the Business Boosters annual installation dinner out of professional obligation. He’s not a natural extrovert, and doesn’t like to be put into situations where he has to socialize with people he doesn’t know. At least that’s something we have in common.
As I expected, Donnie politely declined my dinner invitation. Davison would be taking the red-eye in a couple of hours, he told me, and they wanted to eat near the airport so they wouldn’t have to rush.
“Oh, Donnie, that’s a shame.” I aimed a triumphant look at Emma. “It looks like dinner’s not going to work out. Tell Davison I hope he has a good flight.”
“Would you like to tell him yourself?” Donnie asked. “He’s right—”
“No, it’s okay. I know you’re on a tight schedule and I don’t want to keep you. I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m still catching a ride back with you, right?”
“I’m planning on it,” he said.
“It worked,” Emma said when I had hung up.
“See? I’m not completely inept.”
“What worked?” Yoshi asked.
“Molly’s cell phone,” Emma said. “She wasn’t getting any reception back at the paddling store. So Davison’s on his way back to the mainland now?”
“Pretty soon,” I said.
Two hours from now, Davison’s plane would be thirty thousand feet above the Pacific Ocean. In my mind’s eye I saw a jumbo jet hesitating, then spiraling down, accelerating toward the black water, billowing black smoke.
What, was I doing this again? Stop wishing catastrophic death on people, Molly! Stop it!
“Stop what?” Emma asked.
“What? Nothing. Just talking to myself. Out loud, apparently."
"You gonna be okay?" she asked as the elevator doors slid open.
"Yes. I'm fine. Honestly."
We walked out into the warm evening air, toward the Sunset Bar, where the rest of Emma’s crew was already celebrating.