“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” He shook his head and stopped at the next red light.
“Then, I’m going without you.” I opened the door and hopped out with my tote bag, barely catching myself on the uneven ground where it met the sewer drain under my feet. At least my knees remembered how to brace for impact that time.
“Jade!” Seth’s commanding tone came back into play through the window when I hopped up onto the sidewalk.
The light turned green and the car behind Seth honked twice.
“Get in the truck. Now!” he said.
I extended my thumb and pinky into a makeshift phone and held it up to my ear with a dramatic pout. “Sorry. Can’t hear you. Chinese food is calling. Gotta answer.”
With a glare, he swung the truck around the corner and disappeared from view. I sat down on the bench next to the fountain and waited. The sound of water splashing reminded me of the office and then the half-painted walls. I frowned as the burden settled itself on my shoulders again.
A mooing served as a welcome interruption. Without looking, I fumbled through my bag and fished my cell out, raising it to my ear. But the cow call didn’t stop. I stared at the phone and realized it was Seth’s. “I should really give this back.” I dropped it back into the pocket. As always, the third moo sounded distressed, making me cringe.
A man passing by scowled.
“Don’t judge my best friend!” I exclaimed. Roxicodone’s name flashed on the screen, and I barely answered before it went to voicemail. “Hi, friend!”
“Hey?” Roxy replied with caution. “Okay, so I realized it’s been a minute since we’ve talked, and I wanted to check in before the big day—”
“I miss you,” I whined. “And your pretty face. Do you know how pretty you are? Like, it physically hurts my heart because you’re so, so pretty.”
“Why do you sound weird, and why do you keep saying ‘pretty’?”
“I don’t sound weird, and you’re worth every pretty.” Defensiveness found me.
“What’s going on?”
“Oh, Rox. I don’t think we have that kind of time right now.”
She gasped. “Are you… drunk?”
“Shhhh! No!” I giggled. “And I’m definitely not intoxidrunk either.”
I glimpsed the timer on the phone. It said three minutes had passed, and I wondered if Seth didn’t stop, after all. The walk home was only a few miles; I could make it. Maybe. But when I looked up, he’d proven me wrong yet again. With clenched fists, he’d stormed around the corner and headed my way.
Roxy sounded worried. “Jade Nash! You don’t drink. I’m officially concerned.”
“It’s just a little bit of vodka. A teensy slip… sip.” I made the pad of my thumb and index finger nearly touch, forgetting she couldn’t see me.
“I can’t believe it. You’re drinking, and I’m missing out because I’m in Maui? This blows.”
He was only a few feet away, and I felt his fury heating the air between us.
My eyes flicked between the phone and Seth. “I gotta go. He’s mad.”
“He who?” Roxy demanded.
I jumped to my feet. “Ha! I knew you wanted Chinese, too!” I ended the call and put the phone in my pocket.
“What’s gotten into you?” he asked.
“Besides vodka? Nothing. That’s the problem. I’m hungry, and they sell food.” I pointed at the neon sign reading “Peking Cocks” with a giant rooster above it. “Let’s go.”
Seth rubbed his face with a groan.
He held the door open for me to walk in first, and I saw the banquet room on the right buzzing with people playing bingo. I forgot about it being Saturday. If Tuesdays were for tacos at K-7, Saturdays were for bingo at Peking Cocks.
Immediately, I saw Barry and his mom seated in the corner with a stack of bingo cards and a box of daubers. He wore the same thick sweater and pressed jeans I remembered from that morning along with his signature rectangular glasses. He held a blue marker and pointed to one of the cards laid out in front of his mother. She gave a nod of approval, stuck out the tip of her tongue in concentration, and stamped the board with more force than necessary. He gave her a high five, and she hooted like an owl— complete with wing flap.
I gestured toward the opposite side of the restaurant. “Let’s go this way.”
He followed without question.
I flopped down on one side of the bench and Seth sat across from me, staring.
“What?” I self-consciously glanced over my shoulder.
He shook his head. “One minute, you’re preaching about being unadventurous and resisting change. The next, you’re walking out into a rough ocean and jumping out of vehicles for Chinese food. You confuse the hell out of me.”
I took a sip of my water. “Good.”
A frazzled young waitress nearly passed by our table and skidded to a stop. She paused long enough to set down two glasses of water and a couple of menus before reciting a rushed, “Welcome to Peking Cock’s. My name’s Michelle, and I’ll be with you shortly.” Before I could thank her, she’d already moved on to another group with her long, dark ponytail swishing behind her.
I pushed the menu aside and leaned back in my seat, feeling the effects of my Valiant binge fading.
Seth glanced at me. “I thought you were hungry.”
“Starving.”
“Don’t you need to… you know, decide what to eat?”
I folded my legs up onto the bench to sit crisscross applesauce. “I have the menu memorized.”
“That’s a broad statement. You can’t possibly know everything on a menu.”
“Wanna bet?”
His eyes flicked up from the double-sided laminated page. “The stakes?”
I quickly answered, “Winner buys dinner.” A pang of sadness flowed and then ebbed while I recalled Bo’s and my many bets over meals at The Kraken.
“That’s fair.” He slid my menu toward him and out of my reach. “What’s the number three?”
I rattled off my answer and put on my glasses. “Easy. Chow mein, broccoli beef, and fried rice.”
“Okay, hot shot. What are the wonton soup ingredients?” he asked.
“Broth, pork, noodles, green onion, ginger, garlic, and soy sauce. Challenge me.”
He scoured the menu. “One more. The Saturday Special.”
“I’m so glad you asked about the Forbidden City Platter. It includes chopped vegetables, water chestnuts, lotus seeds, mushrooms, and sliced pork. But I don’t recommend it,” I lowered my voice to a whisper and made a pained face, “because the print says fried lice instead of rice.”
He laughed. “All right. I bow down to your frighteningly accurate photographic memory or obsession with Chinese food.”
“Now that I’ve proven you wrong for a change, that’ll be the cost of one dinner, please.”
Seth opened his mouth to reply, but Michelle interrupted to take our order. I pointed at the number six on the menu, and he chose the almond chicken with a side of steamed vegetables.
“Okay—” Seth started to speak again and was cut off.
Hui, the owner of the restaurant, rounded the corner and stopped at our table. “Jade! One of my favorite people!” he said in a warm voice.
I stood up and gave him a hug. “Hey, Hui.”
“Ready for the wedding tomorrow or still wish you got on that plane?” He gripped my upper arms and squeezed before letting go. “I know you’ve been dreading it.”
“Ehhh…” I sat back down.
“You two know each other?” Seth scrutinized my face.
“Absolutely,” Hui replied. “When I moved to Cannon Cove two years ago, Jade helped me spruce up my English on the menus for this place. She still stops by once every we
ek or two to check in on me.” He rapped the tabletop with his knuckles and winked. “Tonight, dinner’s on the house. I’ll even throw in some tequila shots.”
Before I had a chance to turn Hui down on the alcohol, he’d left.
Seth shot a look my way. “You hustled me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said innocently.
“Hustler,” Seth said through a fake cough. “Double or nothing.”
“How does double or nothing work? It’s dinner. No one’s going to eat two—”
“I get to ask one more question. Winner buys dinner and dessert.”
“You’re on. I’ll place my order for Brady’s cheesecake with you now.”
Seth skimmed the menu before setting it back down. “How did you get roped into this wedding you dread?”
The mood swayed drastically and in an awkward manner. My voice quieted, “I don’t remember that being on the menu.”
“I said I get to ask one more question; I never said anything about the menu. You and Annelies aren’t close and seem like two very different people. Plus, I think the whole town hears the way Paige talks about you. After tonight, it’s clear you’re uncomfortable around Eli. That leaves your friend Bo and the bride’s sister. Lissy’s rarely around and keeps pace with a different crowd.”
My hand shook when I busied myself with taking a long drink of water, not realizing when the glass was empty. A rush of ice cubes slid toward my nose and mouth. “So?”
“Something doesn’t add up.”
It’d been a few short hours since I’d learned about Annelies and I being related. I wasn’t ready to talk about it with anyone, let alone process it myself. So, I prepared to shroud the painful truth with a more public one to appease him— Cranston being engaged to Bianca. But I didn’t have to go there.
While I prepared to reply, Michelle arrived with our plates. “Can I get you anything else?” she asked.
Saved by the bao!
I shook my head and shoveled a bite of the steaming bun into my mouth. My eyes watered from the pain, but I hoped it’d save me from talking.
Seth ignored his food and watched me.
“What?” I mumbled through my chipmunk cheeks as Hui walked past and left four tequila shots on the table.
“Did something happen between you two?” His expression didn’t falter.
My mouth twisted into a frown. “With me and Hui? God, no. He’s married with a litter of kids, and—”
“Not Hui. Eli.”
“No!” I choked the half-chewed bite of bao bun down my throat; it no longer felt like my savior. Worse yet, I regretted what I’d said next. “Why? What did Sienna tell you?”
“Nothing.” Each of his deliberate words that followed dragged with great caution. “What did Sienna tell you?”
“Nothing,” I blurted.
He nodded slowly, and I could practically see the gears turning in his head. Stupid me alluded to what Sienna saw outside The Salty Seaman. In watching his face, I knew I’d said too much without saying it at all. Eli’s voice sounded in my head again, and I had a hard time pushing it away.
“No one turns down a Whitaker.”
Seth and I were at an impasse. Both of us ate in silence, trying to untangle what the other said. Yet, neither of us were bold enough to divulge more answers or questions.
Luckily, Michelle came back with the bill and two fortune cookies before we were halfway through our meal.
“Fortune cookies!” I squealed, relieved to grip a different subject. “They’re the best part.”
Seth picked up the green slip of paper and slid the dish with two cookies toward me. “Go for it.”
“You have one, too.”
“No, thanks.”
“Peer pressure.” I put my hand on the table to stop him from pushing the plate farther toward me. “C’mon. Everyone’s doing it.”
“They taste like postage stamps,” he replied. “And I don’t do fortunes.”
“Just open one before I cause a scene. Don’t test me. I’ve had enough vodka to do it.”
He sighed before reaching for the cookie closest to him. I heard a crunch as he crushed it in his hand and let the pieces fall to his napkin. He pulled out the tiny piece of paper and scanned the wording.
“What does it say?” I asked.
“Nothing.” He crumpled the rectangular slip into a tiny ball and tossed it onto the table before throwing back a shot of tequila with a grimace. “Like everything else, it doesn’t matter.” Seth stood up and set two twenty-dollar bills on the table before heading toward the entryway without a word.
After I saw the door close behind him, I reached for the tiny piece of wadded paper and opened it. Bold, black font stared back at me when I pressed the wrinkles out.
Your future is bright
I glanced between the doorway and the fortune twice more, but he didn’t come back. The remaining three tequila shots on the table caught my eye. Without thinking it through, I lifted a glass and tipped the golden liquid into my mouth, scowling at the burn in my throat accompanied by a full-bodied shiver. I stomped my feet against the floor and frowned. The earthy, oaky flavor left on my tongue forced my eyes shut to subdue the experience. It didn’t work. I’m not sure what caused me to pick up a second shot glass, but I did. Down the hatch.
I quickly told Hui goodbye as I passed by the register on my way out of the restaurant.
The air chilled over and matched up with the pitch-black sky, the evidence of another summer day gone. I tucked my fingertips up into the sleeves of Seth’s sweatshirt and crossed my arms.
When I scanned the space from right to left, I saw him standing near the fountain. He watched the spray blast into the air and cascade downward in repeated bursts. Much like the nearby statue of a woman pouring water into the pool, he remained stone still.
The beginning effects of tequila didn’t take long when paired with the amount of vodka in my bloodstream. “You know what?” I stormed over, not giving him a chance to reply. “You confuse the hell out of me, too. What was that back there?” I hiked my thumb over my shoulder toward the restaurant.
“What?”
“The… you… I…” I let my shoulders fall. “Forget it. Let’s just go.”
For two blocks, we walked in silence next to one another until we reached his truck. I had enough swimming through my mind, and speaking would confuse matters. The conversation at the table replayed in my head. Every time I saw Seth’s walls breaking down, he found a reason to repair them.
He opened my door without a word and closed it after I got inside. With the snap of my fingers, we’d reverted back to old times as he pulled into traffic. Just like that. No music. No heat. No talking.
My stomach sloshed when he rounded a corner. “Where are we going?”
“You wanted cheesecake. Remember?”
“Oh, yeah.” I closed my eyes and nodded with a hard swallow, remembering what happened to my dessert when I ate at Brady’s with Roxy. “Cheesecake.” I cleared my throat. “Can you drive slower?”
“I’m driving ten under the speed limit. Pretty sure I’ll flag a cop if I keep this up.”
A few minutes later, Seth flipped his turn signal and veered toward the freeway onramp. He merged into the left lane, and I concentrated on breathing.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
With my eyes closed, I shook my head left and right. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just… slower.”
“It’s the freeway. I can’t go slower.”
I leaned forward and placed my head between my knees, cradling my skull with my hands. At that moment, the two shots of tequila and sixty miles per hour hit me. Hard. “Seth?”
“Yeah?”
I whined with my mouth mashed against th
e leather seat. “I think I’m intoxidrunk.”
“I know, Doc.”
My stomach churned, followed by a burp. More than air threatened, though. “I think you should pull over.” My hand raced to cover my mouth, and I sat up. The world pitched to the left.
“What?” Why?” He glanced at me. “Hang on.”
Time was running out, and we still traveled at steady freeway speed, unable to move over until a red sportscar zoomed past us. When the lane next to us cleared, Seth guided his truck to the right, but he didn’t slow down fast enough.
I scrambled and couldn’t find the button to lower the window in the dark, unfamiliar truck. My eyes scoured the area for a bag, a magical toilet, or a black hole. Anything. The only logical solution, in my drunken state, would be to open the door. So, I did. In the moment, my four-step plan sounded great. Number one: grab handle. Number two: pull. Number three: ram armrest with bruised shoulder. Number four: vomit outside.
Let’s call it a bad idea at fifty miles per hour.
The rash actions set off a time bomb inside my body. A mixture of Chinese food, tequila, and cake-flavored vodka erupted from my stomach. As much as I tried to direct my puke out the open door, physics took over. Most of what I’d eaten rerouted in the wrong direction. It flew back inside, across the truck, and splattered on Seth as the door slammed shut again.
The bitter smell of bile, half-digested Valiant, and sweet-and-sour chicken clung to the air, initiating round two of me tossing my fortune cookies. I clamped my hand over my mouth, but it didn’t help. My stomach cramped, endless gushes and chunks spurting between my fingers and all over Seth’s pristine truck as he pulled over onto the roadside and turned on his hazard lights. I opened the door again, unbuckled, and let my body slide to the ground in a heap.
That was me at my worst. Covered in vomit. On my hands and knees. Dry heaving on a freeway shoulder with a string of drool linking my face to the cement. I had no protection except my hair acting as a shield.
Seth’s hurried footsteps sounded in-between cars whizzing past. Shame filled me, and I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. His fingers grazed the back of my neck as he gathered my hair. Round three of shouting my dinner began. “I’m so, so sorry,” I said between abbreviated breaths.
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