Page 58 of Little Deaths
She blushed, the way she’d blushed when she had asked him out to the Sadie Hawkins dance their senior year. They had gone out on several dates and even kissed, but then he’d gotten disillusioned with the whole thing and stopped texting her entirely. That had probably been a shitty thing to do, but she didn’t seem bothered by it now.
“Are you here with your stepmother?” she asked, glancing over to where Donni had turned to watch them. “She looks great. It’s a shame about—well, you know.”
“Yeah,” he said, keeping his voice bland. “I know.”
Ariel laughed self-consciously. “I used to think she was so glamorous. I remember wishing my mom dressed more like her when I was a kid.”
“But not anymore?” he asked absently.
“Well—no. My mom would never wear anything like that. She’s so flashy. It’s not verymom-like, is it?”
“No.” He gave her a bland smile. “I guess it isn’t.”
His agent was constantly trying to coach him on his facial expressions. His crooked eyeteeth and lack of dimples made most of his attempts at smiling rather forbidding, even rapacious. “Can’t you smile normally?” she often pleaded. “We don’t want you to look like you’re planning on killing the reader when they look at the book jacket.”
But most of his readers—judging from their comments—didn’t seem to mind. He felt a flicker of irritation and glanced over at Donni, missing Ariel’s speculative glance.
“Are you going to be in town for a while?”
“Just for the funeral and for whatever Donni needs. What about you?” he asked abruptly, turning back around. “Is your father still working as a cop?”
“Yeah.” The color remained in her cheeks. “We—Mom and I—want him to retire, but he refuses. I think he’s afraid of missing out on something big that could define his career. Like, well, what’s happening with your mom right now. He told me about your stepmom and what happened.”
“The dog, you mean.”
“Yeah. Josh Rosa told me it was as big as a small horse. Don’t tell anyone,” she added, lowering her voice, “but I heard him on the phone with one of the labs. My dad, I mean. It sounded like the dog might have been drugged. With, like, PCP.”
“The drug that makes men rip the doors off cars?”
“Uh-huh.” She laughed nervously. “Don’t tell anyone, okay? Seriously. I shouldn’t have told you. I could get my dad in a lot of trouble.”
“I won’t.”
“Thanks. I, um, should get back to work. Marsha’s giving me the evil eye. But we should catch up. Over coffee, maybe?” she asked hopefully.
“Maybe.”
“Great! I work weekdays from nine to two. Come see me any time. I’d love to hear more about what you’ve been up to. Dad says you’re a bigshot writer now. New York Times best seller, right? That’s so impressive. Your mom must be so proud.”
“I do all right.” This time, his smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll see you around.”
“Bye!” she chirped, her smile slipping a little when he turned his back on her. He caught the beginning of that slow erosion of hope and it made him feel nothing.
Donni had gone outside to wait. A Bee Gees cover was emanating from the speakers as she squatted down, playing with her dog with the first traces of happiness he’d really seen on her face since he’d come to Riachuelo in the first place.Flashy, he thought, taking in the abundant cleavage, oversize earrings, and paid-for white teeth. Yes, he supposed she was flashy—like an oversized rhinestone in a big cocktail ring. But somehow, on her, he didn’t mind it.
“Who was that?” she asked, straightening. “Friend of yours?”
“Ariel Lambert. You remember her,” he added, because he wasn’t sure that she did.
But Donni surprised him. “Richard’s kid?”
Rafe felt his jaw tic. They were the same age. “She’s not a kid anymore but yes. Her.”
“Didn’t you two used to date?”
He arched a brow. “I didn’t realize you paid that much attention to my sex life.”
“Richard mentioned it when I first brought up the threats. I didn’t even recognize her, although I guess I should have, with that red hair.” She picked up the dog, cradling the creature in her arms while it gazed up at her adoringly. “HowisAriel?”