I feel a little bad about pokingfun at them. “Thanks again, Tim. For coming to my rescue.”
“No problem.” He smiles at me.“Thanks for covering my ass at work. You have special plans withthe lady tonight?”
“I hope so. She’s coming backfrom Vancouver today.”
He gives me a quizzical look. “Idon’t see how she pulled that off.”
“What do you mean?”
“Hank and I went to town thismorning for breakfast at Molly’s Inn. We saw Annie there.”
Now it’s me giving him aquizzical look. “No. That’s not right. It can’t be.”
“It sure looked like her. Shewas with some dark-haired guy a few tables over. I waved, but shedidn’t recognize me, I guess. She left soon after. It was odd.”
Stunned, I stare at him. I’mtrying to do the math in my head.
It’s impossible. How early doeshe start drinking?
“Is something wrong?” heasks.
“She had to drive all the wayfrom downtown Vancouver to Horseshoe Bay, then probably had to waitforever in line because of the weekend traffic. There’s no wayshe’d be getting on a ferry before noon, and that wouldn’t put herinto Nanaimo until 2:00pm.”
Tim shrugs. “Well, if Annie isthe same girl that you brought to our summer barbeque and lastyear’s Christmas party, that was her. Seemed different, though. Notas friendly.”
There’s no point in arguing withhim. I might as well just write his words off as babbling from adrunk. He’d met her twice, months ago and months apart.
Then again, it’s hard for me tobelieve anyone could forget her face.
The thought of Annie not beingwhere she said she was—the thought of her with an unknown man—sendspain through me, and I rub my face hard. Tim reaches under the seatand pulls out a silver flask, which he offers to me. I shake myhead, and he takes a huge swig himself. When he exhales, thepungent odor of alcohol fills the cab. I can only imagine what thecops would think if we’re pulled over. We’d all be searched and itwould probably take hours.
At that moment, Hank opens thetruck door and gets in. “We have to meet my cousin at the shop hewhere he works downtown. He doesn’t have anything to fix a tirehere.”
I feel a wave of irritation. Hadhe not called his cousin beforehand? It’s seven o’clock—I shouldhave been on the boat by now. The last thing I want is to waituntil the 11PM ferry, and now I’m starting to get worried aboutmaking that.
I shake that thought away. I’llmake it. I have to.
On the long drive back toNanaimo, Tim and Hank resume their earlier debate over Sasquatch,making the trip borderline unbearable. Finally, we arrive at awarehouse-type shop in an industrial section of downtown. Hank’scousin takes my tire and works on it for a good half hour while Timand I stand against the building outside and wait. I keep checkingmy phone for the time and any messages. Annie hasn’t sent anything.She expects me home soon.
I imagine what she must bedoing. Lighting candles, scattering petals, filling glasses withwine—she’s into that kind of thing. I’m lucky as hell.
My mind drifts back to what Timsaid. I’m thinking he probably did see someone that looks a lotlike Annie, but it would’ve been physically impossible for her tobe at that restaurant this morning. She was still at Sandy’s—atleast, her phone was. She wouldn’t have left Vancouver withoutit.
Thinking of this reminds me ofthat phone call with Sandy, the shushing and the name, Raj. I feelmy gut tense up again. I focus on the noises in the garage, hopingthey’ll distract me, but all I can think about is how fucking longit’s taking.
It’s pitch black by the time wereach my truck. Tim holds a small flashlight and Hank and I worktogether to put the tire on. I shake their hands and quickly getinto my truck, feeling a weight lift from my shoulders as the truckroars to life.
I decide to call Annie before Ileave. She’s probably wondering why I haven’t walked through thedoor yet.
She answers on the first ring.“Hi, babe.”
The sound of her sweet voicemakes the stressful tire fiasco leave my mind. “My Annie. How areyou?” I hear rock music in the background. Setting the mood forme.
“I’m great. I thought you’d behome by now. You’re not going to believe what’s happeninghere.”
“I know. I had to work late andthen got a flat tire, if you can believe that. Anyways, I’m mobileagain, thanks to Tim, and I’m on my way to the terminal.” I realisewhat she’d just said. “Wait, something is going on there? Oh, andbefore I forget, who the hell is Raj?”
There’s a pause. “Sweetie, Igotta go. I’ll text you in a minute. Love you.” The lineclicks.
What the hell was that? I thinkthat’s the first time in the two years we’ve been together thatshe’s cut off one of our calls. A bit insulted, I redial her andput it on speaker. I chuck the phone on the passenger seat beforeputting the truck in gear and continuing down the road.
This time when she’s answers,she’s talking to someone and then turns her attention to my call.“Jade. Sorry, I just can’t talk right now.”
“Why? What’s going on? Who’s inthe background?” Raj? I want to say, or scream.
“Denny and Robbie.”
My anger, which had beenbubbling high, turns to shock. “What?”
“They showed up a while ago. Youcalled right when Robbie was rummaging in the cupboard for a beerglass. I had to run and help him before he broke something.” Shelaughs—delicate and relaxed.
“Please tell me you’rejoking.”
“Don’t get excited. Everythingis fine. Denny brought his boat over because he has some papers foryou to sign. He apologized to me for the last time he was here. Heknows he was being a jerk. He’s acting really normal, Jade. Youwould be impressed.”
I’m so upset, I can barely makewords come out of my mouth. “Annie, please, either you leave or hehas to, right now. He’s dangerous, no matter how nice you thinkhe’s being.”
“Oh, stop. You underestimate me.I can handle this situation. Everything has been really calm and….”She stops and talks to someone in the room.
The next voice I hear isDenny’s. “Jade, where the hell are you? I need
