I was safe from him and he was safe from me.

And I’d listened to my heart twice in my life.

I knew better.

Right then, it didn’t feel that way.

Right then, it felt like if I didn’t act immediately to fix the damage I’d inflicted on Merry and me that morning, I’d be making the biggest mistake of my life.

I lifted the coffee and sipped it.

It was very strong.

But it was good coffee.

Then I engaged my phone, my thumb moving over it.

I went to who I needed to go to and typed in a text to my mom.

Don’t know if you heard. They got him. It’s all good.

I hit send, took another sip of coffee, and stared out the window, my mind filled with Merry’s low, deep, beautiful but hollow voice.

My phone sounded and I looked down at it.

That’s good, sugar. And Garrett?

I pretended I didn’t know what Mom was asking and sent, He’s fine. Everyone’s fine. Marty Fink tackled the guy behind Dairy Queen.

Within seconds, she returned, Good to hear, Cher. But what your mother wants to know is why he was holding your hand last night or just why he was with my baby girl.

I hated doing it, but I didn’t want my mom to know just how incredibly stupid I was. She knew I could be stupid because I’d handed her a lot of stupid for twenty-five years before I started to get smart. She was now living in a world where her daughter was a little less stupid. She didn’t need to think I was sliding back.

So I lied.

He was just tweaked, I sent. Then added, He happened to be at the bar when he got the call. Worried that the dude was at large in our neighborhood. You know he’s a good guy, Mom.

I know that. I’m glad he’s OK, she returned, and in her first three words, even through a text, I actually felt her disappointment that a good guy like Merry wasn’t holding her daughter’s hand in the way she hoped he would.

Then again, he was.

And I’d fucked it up.

Shit.

Two words. I knew Merry would accept them. Easy to type them out.

I’m sorry.

I turned my attention back to my phone, hit what I had to hit, and put it to my ear.

It rang three times before Vi answered, “Hey, babe.”

“You got lunch plans today?” I asked.

“I do now,” she answered. “Frank’s? The Station? Feelin’ like Chinese?”

“My pad,” I told her.

“Cool,” she replied. “What time?”

“Noon good for you?”

“Yeah. And hey,” she went on, “Bobbie’s got mums on sale for half off and I got my tradesman discount. You want some for your outside pots?”

“That’d be good. The usual. Purple and white.”

“Hmm…not sure she has white. But she has cream.”

“That’ll work.”

“Right. See you at noon.”

“Yeah.”

There was a pause before she asked, “Hey, you okay?”