Page 19 of Prospect Year
“Tim’s not home.”
Mia nodded and forced herself to mouth the words slowly as she relayed her thoughts.
“Ohhh. Tim never came home last night.”
Mia nodded.
“That’s no big deal. He could be doing club business or crashed at the clubhouse after partying. Or,” Amber grinned, “he could have gotten lucky last night and be at some chick’s house.”
Mia felt her eyes widen. She hadn’t considered that. She just knew he had been dependable even if it was late, he always came here to sleep.
Amber grinned. “Want to call him?”
Mia nodded.
“You do realize that he could be getting a morning piece with some bike bunny.” Amber laughed. “Let’s do it. If we’re lucky, he got lucky, and we get to dampen the mood.” She pulled her phone from her back pocket and dialed.
“Lola here.”
Amber switched the conversation to speaker. “Are you alive?”
“Barely,” he replied.
“We were wondering what happened to you. You sound rough. Have you been to bed?”
“Why? What you got in mind? Or should I ask what Mia has in mind? I can be there in thirty minutes.”
Amber laughed. “I do believe Mia is cussing you.”
“She just wants me all to herself. Don’t you, sunshine?” Lola asked, humor lining his voice.
“She rolled her eyes,” Amber told him, laughing.
“You’re not fooling me. Head on up to my room, I’ll be there before you know it.”
“We just wanted to make sure you were alive,” Amber cut in.
“Want me alive? Then both of you go strip down and wait for me to slide in bed between you two.”
“Argh,” Amber growled.
“That’s okay too. I’m down for watching,” he negotiated.
“Shut up,” Amber shouted, causing Lola’s laughter to grow. “Go to work,” she ordered and ended the call.
***
Later that evening Lola sat on his bike in the drive, his legs stretched to the side and crossed at the ankles, staring straight ahead. He hadn’t moved for at least forty minutes. Mia knew this because she had been strolling along the palm tree lined drive when he arrived home. She watched him turn off the engine. When he finally did budge, he only swung his leg over the tank to sit sideways.
She stopped next to him. He was so lost in his thoughts, that he hadn’t noticed her approach. Carefully, she placed her palm on his arm, snapping him back to the present. Or at least she had thought that, but he only stared at her blankly.
She smiled and tugged him to his feet, leading him inside the house to the kitchen. Must be something big. No flirty comments, no resistance at all. She glanced back. No emotion either. He followed like an empty shadow attached to her. She dropped his hand and grabbed a tumbler from a cabinet and pulled a bottle from the pantry, then laced her fingers with his and guided him with her to a small room off the foyer. The room where she usually retreated to with her therapist for quiet sessions.
She closed the door and motioned to a chair. Lola perched onto the edge of the seat as she poured the dark liquid into the glass and placed it in front of him. His usual wit didn’t surface. He only stared at the drink. She kicked off her shoes and curled her bare feet underneath her as she settled onto the brightly colored sofa within arm’s reach of the chair.
Eventually, he lifted the tumbler. Holding it in both hands as he leaned forward to rest on his knees, he looked up for the first time since sitting down. “Do you know both your parents?” he asked.
She nodded.