Unexpected Arrivals(24)
I didn’t have a clue what time it was—they’d taken my phone and watch when they checked me into this luxury resort equipped with three walls, twenty-seven bars, and my very own semi-private bathroom. The crowd in this place was restless, and if I closed my eyes and hummed, I could pretend it was a party, and the temporary tattoos on my fingertips were my stamp to get back in the door.
“Carpenter,” a deep voice bellowed from down the corridor of cells.
I stood and walked to the door, holding the bars like every cliché action flick I’d ever seen. I almost stuck my head in to get a better look, and then thought better of it. Instead, I waited for the guy to find me. “Yeah.”
He flicked his head at me and stood in front of the door. “C74.” The latch clicked, and he pulled the door to the side. “You’re out.”
I didn’t ask any questions, and it wasn’t like I needed to gather my things from my suite. My feet moved as fast as the cop let me go without running the guy over in an unnecessary jailbreak or an attempted assault on an officer.
The guy never introduced himself or spoke to me after informing me I was being set free, so when we got to a desk and he just pointed, I took that as instruction and sat my happy ass down. An hour or so later—I’d counted to sixty, sixty times using the Mississippi method—the latest member of the clan of mutes handed me a plastic bag with my crap in it and let me out the door. They’d released me on my own recognizance; however, I had a court date in thirty days—assuming Hannah didn’t have me in rehab before then.
I’d expected to find Neil’s girlfriend waiting on me outside, but to my relief, Neil was there in slacks and a dress shirt.
With his hands in his pockets and a shit-eating grin on his face, he said, “It’s amazing what you can find out about someone in jail under the Freedom of Information Act, yet you can’t even get so much as a confirmation someone is in a hospital who’s protected by HIPAA.” He shook his head as if this was fascinating information I should look into further.
“I’m not the least bit surprised criminals have no rights while the ill are sheltered. So what’d it cost you?”
“Nothing. They said they were letting you out on your signature and told me you’d be ready in about an hour. That part was a lie—it was more like an hour and a half. And I figured since I busted you out for free, I could spare thirty minutes.”
I clapped him on the shoulder, grateful he was here in place of his girl—I loved her, but no one needed to be lectured about their time in the pokey while hung over. “Thanks. How’s Cora?”
“She was a little rattled last night, so I sent her a message on my way here to tell her you’d be home, and she seemed okay.”
“Thank God she didn’t get caught up in this shit. You taking me home?”
“Nope. I’ve got work to do, and now I’m almost two hours behind. So you’re coming in. Close your door and no one will see just how bad you look…or smell. Jesus. Better yet, take a whore bath in the sink before you step foot in the office. You reek of sex, sweat, and stale alcohol. Please tell me the first was not acquired during your stay at Casa de Custody.”
I just glared at him and got in the car. Neil tried to talk it up on the ride to the office, but I wasn’t interested in mindless chatter. My head hurt, I stunk, filth covered my body, and all I wanted to do was go home to shower.
Instead, I got to serve another sentence at the office until Neil deemed it time to retire for the evening. When I reminded him of my impounded car, he assured me Cora and Hannah had retrieved it sometime today.
After I finally stumbled through the door, I realized my girl had been anticipating just how bad off I’d be. She coaxed me into a warm bath—I now understood Chandler’s love for them in Friends—then offered me my favorite sweats and two aspirin. I expected a lecture, instead, she curled up in bed with me and turned on the television. I was out before she’d found a channel to stick with, and when I woke in the morning, she was right where she always was—by my side with her head on my chest.
God, I loved this woman.
She never failed me. I couldn’t imagine life without her. And I realized at that moment, with her soft breath blowing against my skin, it was time to make it official. We’d talked about engagement, we’d flirted with the issue—although with her going to grad school I hadn’t pushed. But, now it was time.
6
James
As much as I wanted to run out to purchase a ring and secure its place on Cora’s finger, that task didn’t prove to be as seamless as I believed it would be. I’m not sure what I thought it would cost, but I hadn’t anticipated choosing between a diamond and a down payment on a home. She was worth every penny, but it had to be the perfect ring to invest that kind of money. And thus far, it felt like I’d been to every jewelry store in town and left empty handed. At the end of the day, I couldn’t tell anyone what I had in mind—I just knew I hadn’t found it.
Cora hadn’t made an issue out of getting engaged; in fact, neither of us had even mentioned it since we’d left Chapel Hill. We both assumed we’d be together forever…her parents weren’t around, and our only family already shared an apartment with us. So while the notion was always at the forefront of my mind, everyday life took precedent over conquering that goal.