love? Yes. Of course that had initially angered him. Angered the hell out of him. He still wasn’t sure if Amy’s eyes had betrayed her or not, but the mere possibility that she’d truly seen what she claimed boiled his blood.
And finally there was the finger in the bait. That bothered him. It did. But the whole incident seemed so random, so unrelated to all the bizarre goings-on that had already transpired. Logic simply had no say on that one. So what choice was there but to ultimately laugh at the absurdity of it all?
“You don’t think it bothers me?” he said.
Amy shrugged. “It doesn’t seem to. At least not a whole lot.”
“I think it’s too surreal,” he said. “Everything that’s happened…it’s just so absurd. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just not digesting it all yet. Call it a defense mechanism. Call me a stubborn dummy.”
Amy took another sip of her wine. She smiled at Patrick, weak and small, but there. “I know you want everything to be okay, baby,” she said. “You’re like Chevy Chase from the Vacation movies in your quest to showing your family a good time—nothing’s more important to you.”
Patrick smirked at her wit.
“And I’m willing to write off the whole weird experience with that Arty guy. But the other guy I just can’t let go of,” she said. “Even if I didn’t see him in our window; even if my eyes were playing tricks on me, the whole incident at the supermarket and in the parking lot with the rice is enough to stay with me for a bit.”
Will she mention the finger? Patrick wondered.
“And let’s not forget about the finger,” she said.
Patrick sipped his martini, kept his eyes down and chose silence. Amy reached across the table and took hold of his free hand. “Don’t get me wrong, baby—I’m enjoying myself tonight, I really am. But I wonder if we should even be here.”
“Out to dinner?”
“Crescent Lake.”
Patrick asked something he already knew. “Do you want to leave?”
She looked at her wine again. There was a small sip left that she swirled in her glass with two fingers on the base of the stem. “No,” she said. “I don’t. But don’t expect me to suddenly forget everything that’s happened. That finger could have been made of rubber, been a prank from a kid. And I could have been seeing things when I looked out the window and saw the supermarket guy last night. But it still doesn’t put my mind at ease, Patrick. You can’t expect otherwise.”
“I don’t. You know I don’t. And if I was in your shoes I’d feel exactly the same way.” He picked up her hand and kissed it.
She smiled, a stronger one this time, then gulped the remainder of her wine. “I think I need another.”
“Then another you shall have.”
Another good smile. “Why did we even start talking about all this crap again?”
Patrick shrugged. “Beats me. Small talk until the main course arrives?”
She pursed her lips. “Oh right—that conversation definitely qualified as small talk.”
Patrick laughed and kissed her hand again. The waiter came by and cleared their salad plates and Patrick used the opportunity to drain the rest of his drink as well.
“Would you folks care for another round?” the waiter asked.
“Yes please,” Patrick said.
When the waiter brought their next round, Amy said, “So is the plan to keep drinking until we forget about everything?”
Patrick raised his glass. “Works for me.”
23
Arty and Jim squatted in the backyard of the cabin they’d selected, their bodies cloaked by the surrounding black the woods provided. The cabin was close to the Lambert’s, making it an ideal transitional spot for them to prepare.
“Could be on a timer,” Jim whispered, motioning to the lit windows of the transition cabin.
“Doubt it,” Arty said.
They shuffled side by side, to the left of the cabin. There was a car in the driveway. Arty pointed to it. “Somebody’s home.”
24
On the ride home, Patrick said, “Such a great meal. Lorraine and Norm have discovered a little gem in that spot.”
Amy leaned back against the headrest and sighed. “It was good wasn’t it?”
“Very. Duck was amazing.”
“Better than Nicola’s back home?”
“Pretty damn close.”
Amy curled to one side, closed her eyes but asked, “So what now?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean do you want to head back or do you want to go somewhere for a drink?”
“I thought you might ask that.” Patrick released the sneaky smile he’d been fighting since leaving the restaurant. “Your wonderfully thoughtful husband happens to have a bottle of