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As I tookher into my arms, Pris broke down in a series of convulsive sobs. “I wasn’t supposed to tell.”
I rubbed her back until she suddenly straightened up with a sniffle. “I shoulda known it.” She pulled away and started to unscrew the top to the tequila bottle she hadn’t wanted to let go of. “He isn’t the kinda guy to not call,” she cried.
At least she was using the present tense now.
A man came out of the store and after noticing Pris’s expression, decided on a wide path around us.
I urged her by the shoulder. “Let’s get out of here, and you can tell me about it.”
Her head lolled to the side. “I need a drink first.”
“Come on,” I urged. “I’m a good listener, but not here.”
She held up the tequila. “The bottle listens good.”
“No way.” I wrestled the bottle out of her grasp. “I promised Boone I’d take care of you.”
The exaggeration got her attention. “Men suck. My brothers are always trying to tells me what I can’t do.” Her cheeks bulged out and her expression turned pukey, but she recovered after leaning on her knees for a second.
“Preachin’ to the choir, girl.” I ushered her toward my car. “Can you make it without barfing?”
She followed on wobbly legs. “Sure. I’m a Benson.” She said it like the family had won all the drinking contests in the state. “I promise.”
“Then you can come to my place. The dogs are good listeners just like me.”
We’d barely started the drive when she complained, “Boone’s place? No way. Turn left up here.”
“Tell me about Lee.” I figured anything that kept her mind busy would increase my chances of not having to clean puke out of the car. But all I learned on the drive over was that she didn’t like the nuts in Rocky Road ice cream. “Scratchy when yaz swallow ’em.”
Well, that wasn’t exactly all I learned. She deflected twice by saying how cute a couple she thought Boone and I made. “Boonala, Angoone, Boongela? Which one do you like?” she asked.
“Hey. I like the guy, but I won’t be here long enough for a couple name, and all of those suck.”
She waggled a finger at me. “I seez that look…” She pointed excitedly. “Here on the right. That little cabin.”
Littlewas no exaggeration for the structure she pointed out.Dollhousecame closer thancabinto describing it.
“Home sweet home,” Pris said as I pulled to a stop. Ten seconds later, her promise to not barf in my car didn’t protect the bush by the side of the road. “Why did I drink so much?” she asked.
The interior of her cabin was even smaller than Grace’s shack. At least she was the only one living here.
Once inside, she rushed to the sink to rinse her mouth out. “Maybe that package of Heydecker loaves wasn’t such a good idea.” She spit again. Seeing my confused look, she added, “Twinkies to a northerner like you.”
I settled her into the love seat when she was done. A regular-sized couch wouldn’t have fit in the space.
“You can tell my stupid brother you did your good deed.” She held out her hand. “I want my bottle now.” She seemed to have already forgotten about her pukefest.
“Not yet.” I took the bottle with me and went in search of bowls and spoons in her kitchen nook. “You promised to tell me about Lee first.” It was a simple lie. I needed her to explain things before she passed out. If she’d hidden a secret since her boyfriend disappeared, there was no telling if I’d get it out of her tomorrow.
“I did not.”
“Yes, you did,” I lied. Locating bowls in a cupboard, I took two down. “So, what were you going to tell me about Lee?”
She didn’t answer. Her head lolled back against the cushion. “There’s a spider up there.” She pointed at the ceiling.
I spooned out ice cream for us. “It’ll wait. So…Lee?”
“I went to Baallimore, like I was supposed to.”
