On impulse she invited him to dinner—which she thought would qualify as a different reality from what his evening would otherwise have been. She wanted to do this, for him and for herself, too. She immediately added that she’d pick him up and drop him off. He hesitated and a moment later, agreed.

CORD GOT ANOTHER unexpected message from Shallie; she was leaving Russell’s place (aka the Painted Pony Motel) and confessed that she’d been presumptuous enough to invite Russ to dinner. At Cord’s. Just like she’d done this past Monday with the Lewises. Was he willing to accommodate another guest? If not, she’d make some excuse and treat him to a meal at Bailey’s instead.

He immediately texted back his agreement, wondering what this evening was going to be like. He’d never known Russ very well, hadn’t seen him in years; his awareness of the guy these days was based on reputation more than anything. Russ was a veritable hermit in that dump of a motel, not someone who seemed interested in being part of the community. Cord added a suggestion to his text. What if I invite Tina and Mitch, plus Eli and J.P., if they’re available? They all used to know Russ.

Sure. And we can’t forget Carly, Shallie texted back.

Nope, no forgetting Carly.

Cord called Tina and Mitch. Tina answered. “That should be an…unusual evening,” she’d said when he invited them. “I can’t even recall the last time I saw Russ. Let me see if Mitch has any plans.” Half a minute later, she was back on the line. “Mitch would like to come, too. Oh, and I’d be happy to cook.” She told him she had a couple of lasagnas in the freezer—one regular and one vegetarian, both homemade. She’d also prepare a salad and some simple dessert. Cord put a bottle of Shallie’s favorite wine (he’d stocked up) and a case of beer in the fridge.

Shallie came in with Russell soon after and made the reintroductions. “Cord, you and Russ remember each other, right?”

“Sure.” He thrust out his hand in greeting. Russ’s shake was more than firm, it was aggressive. Trying to prove something? That aside, Cord found him remarkably similar to the guy he remembered—a little heavier, a little grayer, just as awkward. But he seemed pleased to be there, which pleased Cord, too.

He supposed Russ wasn’t a bad guy, never had been. The two of them hadn’t been friends in the past, and given their age difference of several years, plus their circumstances, that made sense.

Carly followed them inside a few minutes later, claiming she’d been “answering email,” but the expression on Shallie’s face, quickly hidden though it was, made him wonder what the girl had really been up to.

“Russ,” he said. “This is Carly. Reba’s daughter.”