Although they only met twice—when Cate brought Neale to Toaster for breakfast—they clicked right off the bat. Of course they did, because Neale could see how perfect she and Cate were for each other. Although really, she’d probably like any girlfriend of Cate’s who was politically progressive, with a blue-collar background, a degree from a culinary academy instead of a college.

“They did a scan, to see if the concussion was serious. It wasn’t. But the woman kicked her in the face and her cheek is broken. There’s going to be a surgery around that. She also has a sprained wrist. And the guy was trying to rape her. So of course she’s flipped.”

“Jesus. I guess I figured that was probably in the mix. How long is she going to be in the hospital?”

“Two more midnights. I got that off the wall chart in her room. I guess that’s how they measure time in the hospital. Regular night and day must get mixed up inside. I have to tell you something else. Today I looked at the menu on her tray table. She’s on soft foods because of the broken cheek. For breakfast she can have pureed waffle. I hate to say this, but I’m kind of glad you came by so I could tell you about the waffle.”

“That’s hilarious. But you can tell me the bad stuff, too. Your bad stuff. Maybe that’d help?”

“So. The thing is, I don’t have a solid memory of a lot of it. I don’t have a full picture. I was just operating on impulse. You know. Something bad happening. Stop it. Smash smash smash. I can see this part all over again if I want to. And then when he stopped moving, I rolled him and his flopping dick off Neale. Jesus. I can see any information about this is kind of TMI. But also NEI, not enough information about the whole thing. Patches are still blacked out, like with a Sharpie. I supposedly whooshed a rather large amount of spray from the extinguisher at the woman, got her in the eyes. But then what? Where did she go and how did I get to the guy while he was still gettable? I think I’m censoring my own mind.”

Cate’s cell buzzes its way across the table. She looks to see who it is, then lets it buzz on. “Private caller. No idea. I mean, I always thought it was you. But you, as you can see, are here.”

“It did used to be me. Are you in something new? I thought you were seeing someone on the up-and-up.”

“I am. And it’s something I’m hoping goes somewhere. It has a lot of promise.”

“Yeah. I’ve seen her. Very presentable.”

“Where’d you see her? You mean from half a mile off at the beach?”

Dana doesn’t say anything.