Lineage(78)

“I’m not superstitious; you know that better than anyone.” Andy waited until Lance nodded in agreement. “So I feel stupid even saying this: get your novel finished and get out of that house. I would tell you to leave now—leave with me, for f*ck’s sake—but I know you won’t. There’s nothing good there. I’ve relied on my instincts for most of my life and they haven’t steered me wrong before. Everything inside of me is revolted by that place.”

Lance looked at his best friend standing the bright morning light. Andy had never lied to him—he might even be incapable of it—and now he had told him to leave the one place that inspired him. Lance grimaced.

“The funny thing is, right now I’m probably two-thirds of the way through the novel and I’m clipping right along; in fact, it’s faster than I’ve ever written before. But you know what? Right now, standing here talking to you, I cannot for the life of me remember the ending of the story. I can remember everything I’ve written so far, but the resolution? Gone, like it never was. There’s not a bone in my body that tells me if I drove away today I’d be able to finish that story. It might actually fade away completely.”

“And could you live with that?” Andy asked.

“You know I couldn’t. How could you even ask that?” Lance said, as he put his hand against the warm hood of Andy’s car.

Andy looked at the street like he hoped to pluck an answer from the nearly spotless gutter. “I know” was all he replied. Andy turned from Lance and pulled his car door open. He stopped before sliding into the driver’s seat, looking hard at Lance, closer than he ever had before. “Be careful. If you need anything, call me. I’ll be waiting for a draft,” Andy said.

Lance exhaled through his nose and smiled halfheartedly as he listened to the soft thump of the car’s door shutting. He didn’t look up from the pavement until the Audi had vanished from the town’s main street.

He turned, meaning to walk to his own vehicle, unsure of what he intended to do after that. A body collided with his shoulder and he reeled, anger flaring within him as he staggered and turned, words aching to fly off his tongue at the person who had ran into him so carelessly.

Mary stood in the middle of the sidewalk, a half dozen books pressed to her chest. Her mouth curled up in a smile that instantly forced away his anger.

“I’m sorry, are you okay?” Lance said, stepping forward.

“I’m fine, although you should keep an eye out for people smaller than yourself.”

Lance smiled, heat blooming in his face. He rubbed the back of his neck and started to apologize again, but instead, Mary cut him off. “The answer’s yes,” she said, and the whole block seemed to go silent.

“Yes?” Lance asked, his mind jumping several steps ahead and paving a path of sheer joy at what he hoped she was suggesting.

“I’ll have dinner with you if the invitation is still open.”

The air was gone from Lance’s lungs, and he struggled to think of something witty to say as excitement danced a two-step in his stomach. “Great! I, ah, where …” he sputtered, glancing around at the surrounding buildings.

Mary grinned. “The Lighthouse is a good place. A little progressive for the locals, but everyone seems to go there when they want to dress up and act like adults.”

Lance laughed and felt his mood pull out of the nosedive it had been in since the night before. “Sounds good. I’m sorry I haven’t stopped in lately, I’ve been writing and—”

“Oh yeah, I know. Deadlines to meet and fans to appreciate, all that.” She waved her hand in a prima donna sort of way, her smile disarming in the light of the sun.

Lance beamed like the idiot he knew he was. “What time should I meet you, or pick you up?”

“How about six thirty? That’ll give me time to get pretty after I close up shop. I’ll meet you there. It’s that trendy-looking place made of stone a few blocks north.”

“Great! Okay, I …” Lance trailed off, and stared at her. The foreboding of his conversation with Andy, and even the events of the night before, paled as he looked at her. Only after a few moments of silence did he notice she had her eyebrows raised in an expectant expression. “I’ll see you tonight,” he said at last.

She laughed and shook her head as she walked away in the direction of the bookstore. He watched her go, reveling in the feeling that flooded him. It wasn’t that he was new to women or relationships, but the fact that they had been few and far between held sway. Especially as pretty and smart as the one who now walked away from him.