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IT TOOK ME A WHILE to get oriented when I woke up at Donnie’s the next morning. The duvet lay in a heap on the floor. I leaned over and pulled it aside. Underneath, I found my dress, knotted up like a big red piece of chewed gum.
I looked through Donnie’s closet for something church-appropriate and found a modest navy-blue suit I had brought at some point and forgotten. I dressed quietly and made myself a cup of coffee, which I enjoyed in pleasant solitude at the kitchen table. Donnie had already left for the Drive-Inn, and Davison was probably still asleep in his room, assuming he had come home at all. I left (red dress stuffed in my purse) for the early service at St. Damien’s. After church, I went back to my house to change into Sunday loafing clothes, and occupied myself with chores until it was time to meet Pat and Emma for brunch at the Pair-O-Dice Bar and Grill.
Pat and Emma were the only people inside when I arrived. Pat was enjoying a cup of the Pair-O-Dice’s bar coffee, which no matter when you ordered it, always seemed to have spent hours sitting in its glass carafe on the hot plate. Emma was already drinking beer, even though it was still well before noon. I went to the bar and ordered a bourbon straight up from the (apparently) teenaged bartender, then went to sit with Emma and Pat.
“So, you two have a date with Randy Randolph tomorrow morning,” Pat said.
“Ucch.” Emma gagged.
“I’ll be glad to get it over with,” I agreed.
“I told Pat about your letter,” Emma said.
“It’s not the end of the world, Molly. Marshall Dixon has a lot of power. If she likes you, she can make tenure happen. Just make sure you stay on her good side.”
“The thing is, these are my colleagues. The guys in my own department. Which one of them would vote against my getting tenure? Which means, voting for the end of my career.”
“Chill, Molly, it’s just one vote. It’s not gonna spike your tenure—oh, hey, Davison.”
There was my stepson, making his way toward our table.
“Davison,” I exclaimed. “No New Beginnings Chapel this morning?”
“I already went.”
“Well, what a surprise. I certainly didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Crystal had to go to work. She’s over at Natural High, so I walked up. Thought I’d probably find you at the Pair-O-Dice.”
“You already eat?” Emma said. “Come sit.”
Emma’s invitation was superfluous since Davison had already pulled up a chair.
“How did you know we’d be here?” I asked.
“Dad said you guys like slumming here.” Davison gave a side-eye to Emma’s pre-noon beer.
“So what do you do at New Beginnings?” Pat asked. “Burn a witch, stone an adulteress, sing a few hymns?”
“Nah. What?” Davison looked confused. He’d wedged himself into the chair and somehow managed to take up way more room than anyone else at the table, even long-limbed Pat.
I scooted sideways to relieve the pressure of Davison’s leg against mine.
“Did you see your friend from Konishi Construction?” I asked. (Scoot.) “The one who told us about the box?” (Scoot.)
“Nah. Seeing Curtis again was kinda, I dunno. Kinda depressing.”
“Classmate?” Emma asked.
Davison nodded. “We used to be pretty close back in the day. But when Tessa came hapai, couldn’t hang out, ’cause the baby. All the family responsibility and stuff. I dunno how he can deal with it.”
“Yes, having a baby and all that responsibility must be very difficult for him,” I said.
The bartender arrived with my bourbon.
“You want some coffee or something?” Emma asked.
“Yeah, get me a coffee.” Davison addressed the young man.
“Thank you,” I added, because no one else had said it. The bartender nodded in my direction and left to get Davison a cup of the Pair-O-Dice’s stale, burned coffee.
“Not twenty-one yet?”
“I don’t drink, Professor Nakamura. I’m keeping my metabolism well-tuned and my body fat down. You know, your digestive system treats ethanol like a—”
“Eh, Davison.” Emma peered under the table. “There’s no room for the rest of us under there. You really gotta sit with your knees in two different time zones?”
“What? Oh. Sorry.” He moved his chair back and rearranged his legs.
I said nothing. With Davison there, I didn’t feel comfortable discussing either my own tenure woes or Primo Nordmann’s murder. And I certainly wasn’t going to bring up the topic of Randy Randolph.
“Hey Molly,” Emma said, “you going to yoga today?”
“No. I think I’m going to rest—”
“Good,” she interrupted. “You can come with me to the gym today, get your exercise there.”
“Too crowded and noisy.” I shook my head.
“We can make sure to get in before one,” Emma insisted.
“Not today. Thanks, anyway.”
“You need to work on your upper arms, Molly. You gotta do something.” She reached over and jiggled my upper arm. I smacked her hand away.
“Mahina State gym’s pretty good,” Davison said. “We useta laugh about it. How the library’s old and it’s closed half the time, and the gym’s all new and full of the latest and greatest stuffs, and open twenty-four seven.”
“Priorities,” Pat agreed.
“Hey, you can come work out with us,” Emma offered.
“I’m sure Davison has better things to do on his break, Emma.”
“Cannot. Not a Mahina State student anymore. Anyway, I been going to Strongman. Couple of my classmates work there now. Nothing fancy, but they get the basics. Barbells, dumbbells, li’dat. Crystal comes with me to Strongman an’ helps spot.” He grinned. “Makes the workout go faster.”
“I remember she mentioned she worked as a personal trainer. At least that’s what she claimed when she offered her services to your father.”
“Hey,” Emma said, “so what’s our plan for Randy Randolph tomorrow?”
I felt Davison stiffen next to me at the mention of Randolph’s name. I tried a subtle head shake to warn Emma off, but she plowed ahead.
“Make sure you shine up that wedding ring nice and bright before we go, Molly. I think we’ll have to keep reminding him you’re married.”
“Whatever you do,” Pat said, “make sure he ends up feeling warm and fuzzy about Mahina State. It’s all my management cares about.”
“Remember when he was going on and on about Molly’s ‘exotic’ looks, and her ‘kinky’ hair?” Emma laughed.
“I shoulda punched that faka’s face in.” Davison
stalked out without paying for his coffee.
“Emma, Donnie’s not supposed to know about our meeting with Randy Randolph.”
“Whoops,” Emma said.