Part 19 (2/2)
”They've been ogling you since we got here,” I said.
She put down her beer and leaned close until our lips were almost touching. ”Want to give them something to talk about?”
”I thought we were friends?” I said.
”We are.” She eased back in her chair and took another sip from her pint. ”Actually, I was worried about you this morning.”
”Why?”
”You got out of your car like a black cloud. Grim.”
”Sorry.”
She waved her hands around us. ”It's the summer. A parade. We're young and drinking beer. How bad can that be?”
”You're right.”
”I know I'm right. So why?”
”Don't mess around, Sarah.”
She slipped her hands over mine. They were warm and strong.
”I'm not messing around, Ian. If you have a problem, I'd like to think I can help.”
”It's not a problem.”
”Then what is it?”
Maybe it was the beer. Maybe it was her. Maybe it was just the need to feel something more. Something I could hang on to. Whatever it was, it opened the door. And I walked through.
”I visited a graveyard this morning.”
She didn't expect that. Probably wished she'd just drunk her beer and kept her mouth shut. But now she was in for it. And so it went.
”Why?”
”I had a twin brother, Matthew. He died when he was ten. Today's the anniversary.”
”I'm so sorry.”
It was the second time she was sorry for me. And I still hated it.
”Let's just forget about it.”
”No.”
”Yes. It was a long time ago, and I paid my respects this morning.”
She was quiet for a bit, studying the dregs in her gla.s.s. ”Can I at least ask how?” she said.
”How Matthew died?”
Sarah nodded.
”You don't want to know.”
”What does that mean?”
”We were swimming in Lake Michigan and he drowned.”
”You were there?”
”Me and my stepfather. Matthew got caught in a riptide. They found his body three days later.” I watched her face pale as she realized what I was telling her. ”That's right, Sarah. Jake and I both had brothers who drowned when we were kids.”
”What does it mean?”
”Probably nothing.”
”It doesn't freak you out?”
”I told you the other day, the Wingate letter bothers me. As far as my brother's death goes, there's no connection to Havens.”
”You don't know that. What if the person who sent the letter knows about your past and is manipulating you as well?”
”How? I decided to take Z's seminar myself. I didn't tell anyone. No one influenced me. And I didn't receive the Wingate letter. Havens did.”
”It's still a little strange if you ask me.” Sarah's phone buzzed. She checked the number. ”It's Jake.” She clicked on her phone. ”Hey, we were just talking about you. Yeah, he's right here.” Sarah reached over and squeezed my hand. ”You want to come over?”
She pulled the phone from her ear. ”He's at Medill now.” She put the phone back to her ear. ”Jake, we're at a place called Clarence's on Central. We've got a table outside.” A pause. ”Cool. See you then.”
Sarah clicked off and slipped her phone onto the table. ”He's gonna come over.”
”Fine.”
”I think you need to tell him about Matthew.”
”There's no connection, Sarah.”
”We don't know that. We can't know that.”
When I didn't respond, she ordered us two more beers. With their arrival the dark talk vanished. At least for the moment. We were sitting and sipping when Havens walked in.
”You guys look like you're having fun. What's up, Joyce?”
I gave him a nod. Sarah patted the seat beside her. Our waitress materialized at Havens's elbow. He ordered whatever we were having and sat back in his chair. ”You go to the parade?”
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