A Deep and Dark December(45)

“No. Of course not.”

“What was the vision about?”

“Keith having sex with Deidre.”

He made a face. “Eww.”

“Yeah. That was my sentiment. I turned away from the…scene to look outside—”

“You can do that?” he interrupted.

“Usually. If I can focus on something else in the room, I can work my way out of it. But this time I turned to look out the window, concentrating on the hotel sign—”

“You saw what hotel they met in?”

“Yeah, something about it was familiar.” She put a hand to her forehead and closed her eyes.

He settled on the floor next to her. “Describe it to me.”

“Red and blue. Square. On a pole in the parking lot.” She lowered her hand and opened her eyes. “There were a lot of cars going by on the street out front even though it was early in the morning.”

“A highway maybe? What else was around it?”

*

Erin tried to concentrate on Graham’s questions, but with him so close it was difficult to separate her memories from the tangle of emotions his proximity stirred up. “There was a McDonald’s across the street, I think. Yes. Definitely a Mickey D’s. The hotel sign had a number on it, like an eight or a six… Super 6!”

“That’s good. Anything else?”

“No. I think that’s it.”

“Now tell me what happened between you and the cheating check-out clerk.”

“Keith?”

“Is there another one?” Was that jealousy tugging his mouth down into a frown?

“Why do you want to know?”

“I’m interviewing him tomorrow.”

“Can I at least get up off the floor before reliving my humiliation?”

“Sure.” He helped her to her feet, which weren’t as steady as she wanted them to be. “Easy. Come and sit down.” He guided her to the couch, then sat down next to her. He wiggled a finger at her nose. “You got a little something…”

“I’m still bleeding?” She wiped at her nose with his handkerchief.

“No. Not blood.”

“What then?” Realization dawned with burning embarrassment. “Ooohh.” She covered her nose with both her hands. “I’ll just go…” She eased up off the couch and headed for the bathroom, grateful to be steadier on her feet.

The sight that met her in the mirror made her gasp. She’d been talking to Graham all this time with a booger hanging out of her blood-smeared nose! She turned on the tap. While it ran to hot, she blew her nose. Why did these things always happen to her? Her cheeks burned. How horribly, awfully mortifying. First he finds her flat on her face on the floor. Then he wiped up her blood with his pristine handkerchief. And who carries a handkerchief these days anyway? And then, then she smeared that same handkerchief with snot.

She rinsed the poor abused cloth, scrubbing at the dried in blood. A trickle of a memory danced at the edge of her consciousness, but she couldn’t quite catch a hold of it. Something from a vision maybe? She closed her eyes, trying to clear her mind and focus, but the thought slipped away. What was it? She was missing something important. She shook her head and opened her eyes. She was losing it. Maybe she really had hit her head.

After rinsing off her face, doing a minor makeup touch up, and checking her nose this way and that, Erin headed back out to the living room. Graham wasn’t there. She followed faint sounds coming from the kitchen. Graham stood at the stove, his back to her, stirring something and mumbling.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her earlier embarrassment quickly morphing into surprise.

“Making you some food,” he answered, without turning around.

“What? Why?”

“I’m guessing there was no dinner date so there was probably no dinner either.”

She kicked the barstool back, nearly toppling it, and sat down. She propped her chin on her hand. “No. There wasn’t. What are you making?”

“Chili. I found a can in your pantry.” He looked at her over his shoulder. “Hungry?”

“I guess.”

“Want toast?”

“No.”

He went back to his stirring. “What happened with Keith?”

“I think that’s the first time you’ve actually called him by his name and didn’t find a way to make fun of him. Why the change?”

He hitched a shoulder. It was a nice shoulder and even nicer in a pair that tapered down to a V at his waist. She leaned across the counter, bringing his behind into view. A rather tight behind, snug in jeans that hugged all the right places. He chuckled and she snapped her gaze back to his in the reflection of the microwave.

“You have a nice ass,” she said unapologetically. “I just noticed.”

“Thanks.” He winked. “So do you.”

She smiled back at him. How did he do it? How did he manage to get her out of her funks when nothing and no one else usually could? “I think I’ll have a glass of wine.” She slid off the barstool. “Want some?”

“Sure.”

“What goes with canned chili? Red or white?”

“Got any boxed wine?”

She laughed. “Heck, no. But I might have a couple bottles of Two Buck Chuck.”