Page 100

Me: Still pretty.

Baby Becks: Debatable.

Me: You seemed impressed on Saturday.

The dots appear.

Disappear.

I grin.

Baby Becks: By the hockey.

Me: Sure.

Baby Becks: How soon until your ego gets back to Chicago?

I lean back against the stall.

Me: Flight’s tonight.

A pause. Then…

Baby Becks: Good.

Just good.

My thumb hovers over the screen.

Another message appears.

Baby Becks: Darcy is being unbearable.

There it is.

I shake my head.

Me: Blaming the cat now?

Baby Becks: He misses you.

Me: He hates me.

Baby Becks: Thin line.

I chuckle.

Mercer glances over from two stalls down.

I ignore him.

Me: Tell him I’ll deal with him when I get home.

Three dots. Then…

Baby Becks: See you soon, Ken.

There's a slight stirring from deep inside my chest. I read it again.