Ex drink to excess. I'd never seen him do anything to excess. He pointed at me, his expression almost comically somber.
"You," he said, then paused. "You have nothing to apologize for. Not to me. Not to Aubrey. Not to anyone."
"Are you drunk?"
"No," he said. And then, "Yes, but that's not the point. It's that you are just fine. You don't owe anyone anything. Eric was great, but you don't owe him anything. Or Aubrey."
"What room are you in?" I asked, reaching back for my key card on the dresser. He was on the same floor, but not the same hallway. Key card in the pocket of my robe, feet bare, I took Ex by the elbow and steered him back to his room. An older couple in evening wear passed by us, and I saw myself for a second as they would see us. A young woman with her hair still wet. A slightly older man with his hair coming out of his ponytail. Both of us had to have circles under our eyes dark enough to approach raccoon masks. The woman of the couple smiled at us indulgently.
Scenes like this weren't uncommon in New Orleans, I guessed.
I opened Ex's room with his key card, then stepped him through the threshold, turned him around, and pressed the card into his hand. He looked at it like it was a note from God, written on his flesh. His balance corrected two or three times while I watched.
"Get some sleep," I said.
"You don't owe an apology to anybody," Ex repeated.
"Thank you," I said.
He nodded solemnly, then leaned forward unsteadily and kissed my forehead. Even drunk, he was weirdly paternalistic. Maybe especially drunk. Still, there was something endearing in it. I closed the door.
My experience with alcohol was seriously limited. Apart from my brief sixteen-year-old rebellious phase and two semesters at ASU, all I had were old sermons about poisoning my body and blunting my God-given judgment. Still, as I padded back to my room, I would have put a hefty bet that Ex wasn't going to remember our little conversation in the morning.
In bed for the second time, snuggled deep under the sheets, it struck me that Karen's walk with me and Ex's drunken visit were probably related. The pair had spent the day together, and whatever had prompted Ex to decide I needed reassuring he'd probably shared with Karen. And she had taken the hint. The idea was a little embarrassing, but it was also sweet.
I wondered, sleep soaking my brain, my eyelids heavy as weights, if in the rush and confusion of my new, chaotic life I had maybe found people who really did care. Chogyi Jake and Aubrey and Ex. Maybe Karen Black.
That someone as confident and powerful as Karen might give a rip about my feelings was the most flattering thought I'd had in weeks, and as I lost consciousness, I let myself be comforted by it. It wasn't so bad feeling vulnerable when people had my back. I didn't analyze what Ex had said with any particular care.
If I'd understood what he'd actually been trying to say, it would have saved us both a lot of pain.
Chapter 6
SIX
The inside of my new house in Pearl River was pretty in a Spartan way. Without any furniture, the rooms echoed a little, and the space felt bigger than it probably was. It smelled of fresh paint and bleach. The five of us walked through it in the wandering but focused way people get when they're planning a defensive position. There were big picture windows in the front living room and back in the kitchen that looked out on the green grass and trees on the verge of popping out new leaves. Those would be a problem. On the other hand, both front and side doors were solid-core with double dead bolts and interior latches.
The Realtor was an older woman, her hair dyed a soft auburn and her face caked with too much makeup. I thought she looked a little stunned. I tried not to say anything spooky about riders or kidnapping teenagers.
"The former owner was a very dear man," she said. "Lived here for thirty years."
I nodded. There were deep marks in the living room carpet. The couch had gone here, the coffee table there. Something wide and heavy along the wall, the line of crushed nap the only evidence of its passing.
"It looks great," I said. "Do you have the key to the shed too?"