Dirty
Page 26In the distance a lawn mower roared to life, doing its thing. How bizarre to think our dramas didn’t even touch upon the bulk of most people’s everyday lives. They seemed so big and all-encompassing from within. Any happiness felt fake, phony. Or worse yet, as if it were about to be stolen away. Which was ridiculous, really: Vaughan would work his way out of his money troubles and I would date again. I’d find a job I liked, or least tolerated, and he’d start another band. Life would go on.
Right now, however, it just all seemed phenomenally shit.
“Okay, here’s what we do,” said Nell, her spine snapping straight. “You come work for us at the Dive Bar.”
“But—” An imperious hand halted him.
“No, Vaughan,” she said. “You need money, we need a new bartender. Hell, we’re probably about to need more waitstaff too. One way or another, you’re covered. You can do Pat’s shifts behind the bar for now.”
“I only planned on being in town for a few days, a week at most.”
Lines appeared beside Nell’s mouth. “Fine. Whatever. Work while you’re here. You start at six. Don’t be late.”
“Okay. I won’t be late.”
“And bring Lydia with you.”
“Why?”
“Right.” Vaughan crossed his arms.
“Thanks for the coffee and pastry,” I said.
“No problem. See you later.”
It took a while for the man to make any move once his sister left. For a long while, he stood staring after her, lost in thought. Useless platitudes filled my head, the usual reassuring crap. For now, I let it all go unsaid. Neither of us was really interested in hearing the obvious.
This summer was genuinely proving to be a motherfucker.
Wonder what nonsense was being said about me around town. Not that it mattered. No way I’d be accompanying Vaughan tonight to find out. First, I needed to find somewhere to stay until things were settled with the Delaneys. And if I hoped to have anything to wear in the near future, finding my clothes in this jungle needed to happen faster.
I brushed off my hands, leaving the empty cup on the step to throw away later. “You okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Liar,” I whispered.
“Are too.”
He gave me a look most dubious.
“That was a heavy conversation. All I’m saying is, it’s okay not to be okay after it.”
He snorted, pushing his shoulders back. “You want to talk about feelings, Lydia? Is that what you want?”
“Hell no.” I laughed. “After yesterday I’m pretty much emotionally wrung out. I vote we be as shallow as humanly possible.”
“Thank god for that.” A big hand reached out and smoothed down my most likely still psycho bed hair. “You had me worried.”
“But on the off chance it’s necessary,” I said quickly, “I do want you to know I’m here for you, just like you were there for me yesterday.”
“That sounds dangerously like feelings talk.”
“Not really.”
“Fine. Take it how you will.” I shrugged, getting back into the search and rescue of my belongings. Something glinted among the long grass. An earring. “I want to do a drive-by egging of Samantha and Ray’s place, but they’ve got this big fence and gate.”
“Could be a problem.” Beside me, Vaughan dropped to his knees, rifling among the vegetation. “How about we toilet paper their front fence?”
“That could work.”
“Knew this guy once who dumped his girl by text. They’d been going out for like four or five years. Serious stuff. She got a couple of syringes full of fish oil and injected it into his car through the gap between the doors. Just squeezed it straight past the rubber lining and into the interior.” He gazed up at me with a hint of a diabolical smile. “Dude comes back from touring for a couple of months and the inside of his GTO stinks so bad it’s not funny. You couldn’t even get near the thing, let alone drive it.”
I all but clapped my hands. “That’s genius.”
“Isn’t it.” A pair of green silk underwear hung from his finger. “These yours?”
“No. They probably belong to someone else whose belongings were dumped in your yard. But I’ll take care of them for now.”
“That makes sense.” Carefully, he inspected them. “French-cut cheekies, huh?”