Page 125 of Rhodes

"Yes."

"Why the fuck would she do that?"

Jo stands and walks over to a trash can to throw away her empty cup without answering me. Then she walks back over to me, standing directly in front of me.

"Because telling them the truth means explaining you."

I don't answer.

"She wanted Oak Moss fixed. That's it. She didn't want another family war because of her."

Her voice stays low, which makes me lower mine.

"She shouldn't take the fall for me."

"Again, this isn't about you. Do not mistake what this is, Rhodes."

I look up at her.

"She isn't protecting you," she says with a huff, crossing her arms. "She's containing the damage. If she tells Banksie what really happened, then she has to explain why you cared enough about Oak Moss to pull strings behind her back. Then she has to explain Italy, and whatever the hell you two have been doing since you got home. She has to explain every bad decision tied up in this instead of talking about Oak Moss."

Bad decision. My thumb digs into the edge of the paddle handle. Jo looks away first.

"I'm not saying that to be cruel."

"No, you're right."

"Right now, she wants one problem. Oak Moss is her priority, and has been since this all came up. She doesn't want you turning into five more."

"I didn't ask her to lie for me."

"No. You just left her with a mess where lying was the cleanest option she could find."

I deserve that one, so I take it. She studies me for a few more seconds, then she sits back down.

"Jo."

"What?"

"Don't tell her about this conversation."

Her eyebrows lift, as if to say she doesn't owe me shit, especially when it comes to Tallulah.

"Tell her about the house. That part is hers, and she deserves it. The rest of this is just me, and she doesn't need one more person passing information around behind her back."

That gets the first change in Jo's face since I walked over.

"Okay."

"Thanks."

I jump off the wall and head back toward the courts.

My bags aren't on the floor anymore.

Sometime around week three, I got tired of digging through them and put my clothes in the dresser at Creston.

I drove down Audubon exactly once in those three weeks, the Sunday after I talked to Jo. The Cruiser was in my driveway with the hatch up and a laundry basket sitting on the bumper. The house is hers until the end of the semester, as I said, so I didn’t slow down. I’ve thought about that laundry basket more than is appropriate.