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This Close to Okay(61)

Author:Leesa Cross-Smith

“It’s not that easy,” he said to Tallie once the waitress walked away, leaving them alone again.

“Tell me why not.”

“Because there’s nothing left for me in that town, and it’s better this way, trust me. Besides, when I wrote my parents the letter, I truly thought I’d be dead by now, so I’m being completely honest when I tell you I didn’t think this far ahead,” he said.

He’d wanted to spare his parents the horror of finding his body themselves, so that meant no gun, no pills, no hanging. The hovering possibility of the body his spirit was currently inhabiting dead-floating in the Ohio River was perfectly macabre and fitting for the holiday. He refrained from letting a dark smile of relief slide across his face.

“But this is too important—”

“I can’t explain it all; I really can’t. Everyone’s life gets so tangled up with everyone else’s. And everyone has dark secrets they don’t want anyone holding up to the light.” Emmett stopped and took his time, tried to think of how to put a positive spin on what he was saying because it was what Tallie would do. “But also…there’s forgiveness, right? Out there floating in the ether if we can find our breath and catch it?”

“True forgiveness is severely underrated, for both the forgiver and the forgiven. I knew I had to find a way to forgive Joel so I could go on with my life.”

“Right. So would you be okay with seeing him again? Or if he reached out to you? What if he walked in here right now?” Emmett asked.

“I…don’t know. But I don’t think I want to see him? The photos on social media are enough, I guess. Too much,” she said.

“And you said he and Lionel were friends. How did he react to what Joel did?”

“Lionel would be civil to him now, because that’s how Lionel is. But there was a point last winter, before Joel moved away, when he wanted to pretty much kick his ass,” Tallie said, digging into her food. “Nope. Enough about me, you sneak. I’m not letting this thing go about your family. I’ll ask you again.”

“I understand. I’d be doing the same thing you are…if our situations were reversed,” he said. He ate a couple of fries, dipped them into the ramekin of tart vinegar. He took some bites of his fish, too. He’d cooked and plated a hundred million orders of fish and chips at his family’s lake restaurant, but this lunch was out-of-this-world delicious. Had food tasted better since Thursday evening, or was he imagining it? Deciding to stay alive for a few more days had done wonders for his appetite and taste buds.

“And so what would you do now, if you were me?”

“This is delicious.”

“You’re not changing the subject this time, by the way.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. She glared at him. “Yes, Tallie,” he said, correcting himself. “If I were you, I would enjoy this delicious lunch, go home and get dressed for my brother’s dope costume party, and enjoy my evening. That’s what I would do.”

“Emmett—”

“Happy Halloween?” he said, wry as sandpaper.

“You’re taking advantage of your lilac puff. Things would be completely different if not for your lilac puff.”

He winked at her before speaking again.

“Now, all right. Please tell me who’s going to be at this party tonight. I want to hear more about the Tallie Clark kith and kin,” he said with his salt-vinegar mouth, rubbing his hands together underneath the table.

“Well, you know my mom isn’t coming. She was clear about that,” Tallie said.

The waitress refilled their waters. A man at the bar turned and looked out the window beside them, leaving his eyes on Emmett for too long before swiveling around. Did he recognize him? Would the man say something to someone? It wouldn’t matter. Remember, nothing matters, Emmett’s brain chanted, forcing him to listen.

(The man at the bar is wearing a white pocket T-shirt that is too tight around his stomach. The woman next to him is wearing a pointy witch hat—felt, black. They have sausages, fries, and beers in front of them; they’ve ordered the same thing. The woman is drinking her beer. She’s wearing a white T-shirt, too. She puts salt on her fries. Someone at the end of the bar is speaking loudly into a phone. “Tell him I’ll call him later,” he says. He laughs. Someone else in the back of the restaurant is laughing, too. The cash register dings.)

The man at the bar turned away from him and looked at the other window, not paying any attention to Emmett. He’d considered someone possibly recognizing him at the Halloween party but knew people wouldn’t be paying close attention to him. Instead, they’d be drinking and dancing and whatever else, lost in the costumes.

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