Page 55 of Demo
“And please don’t bring that shit up around her, OK? I mean,” I handed the papers back over to Jenny, “she knows about my past, but she doesn’t need to know every gritty detail, OK?”
“Got it,” Jenny said with a little bit of attitude.
***
Three days later, I was back on campus. The college job was nearly finished, but a few of us were assigned to do some finishing work. While there was less activity since the new semester hadn’t started yet, students were still using the library. Because Lizzie graduated in the spring, she wasn’t one of those students, and therefore I was less excited to be there.
I was headed toward my truck with my toolbox when I stopped short at the sight of Lyzbeth leaning against the tailgate with a shopping bag dangling from her fingertips. She was in jean shorts and flip-flops. Her feet were crossed at the ankles, her flip-flops loose on her feet. Her hair was down and swirled around her.
“Fancy seeing you here,” I said as I drank her in, and a smile spread across my face. When I was just a foot or so away from her, I bent down and dropped my toolbox on the ground, then when I reached her I took her face in both my hands and kissed her. As always, I felt the heat immediately. I intended it to be a friendly hello kiss, but it was quickly turning into an indecent public display of affection. Using every ounce of control, I pulled away and ran my hands down her neck, over her shoulders and down her arms until our hands joined.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“I just thought I’d bring you lunch.” She lifted our joined hands with the bag dangling. “Unless you already ate.”
“No,” I said quickly, giving her another quick kiss on the lips. “I’m starved, actually.”
Releasing one of her hands, I used the other to tug her away from the tailgate, then I pulled the handle and dropped it so we could sit on it. “This work for you?” I asked as I gestured to the back of the truck.
“Yep,” Lizzie said, hoisting her ass up and plopping herself down, legs dangling as she dug into the bag.
“I stopped at Wegmans and got you a sub. Ham and cheese OK? I couldn’t remember if you like mayo so there are those little squeezy packets in the bag here somewhere.”
“Perfect,” I said as I slid onto the tailgate beside her and accepted the wrapped sandwich. As I started to unravel it, Lizzie pulled out a plastic container and popped the lid open, revealing a small salad.
“That looks … unsatisfying,” I said as I tore into one of those mayonnaise packets and squeezed the contents onto one side of my open sandwich, before pressing it back together.
“Yeah, well, I’m trying to be less fat.”
I nearly choked, but before I could get a word in, Lizzie started stammering. “I’m stressed, Knox. I’m freaking stressed!”
“What?” I asked around a mouthful of food. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Nothing is wrong. Actually, things are great. I have this really great opportunity at work to interview someone. You know the woman who tried to kill her whole family by driving her car filled with her kids into the lake?”
I nodded as I watched her stab at a rogue cherry tomato in her salad.
“Well, I get to interview her tomorrow. It’s kind of a big deal, especially since I'm just an intern. She isn’t talking to many reporters, but she mentioned me by name. She said she liked the story I had about the arsonist, and she wanted me to interview her.”
I swallowed a huge bite that was nowhere near ready to go down so I could get a word in. “Lizzie, that’s awesome!” I said.
“It’s fucking stressful, Knox!” she replied.
She was panicking. I was getting to know this side of her, and as adorable as it was to see, I also understood how hard it was for her. Nodding, I wiped my hands and face on a napkin, leaving my sandwich resting on the paper wrapper in my lap.
“OK,” I said, rubbing my hands together. “So, how do we prepare? Do we need to come up with questions? Do a little background research? What’s our move?”
Lyzbeth froze for a moment, staring at me. “We? You want to help me?”
I stared back at her, dumbfounded. “The fuck kind of question is that? Of course, I want to help you.”
I can’t be certain, but I think her eyes may have glossed over before she quickly turned away. “OK. Great. Well, yeah, I need to come up with questions, but that’s the thing—I don’t want to just ask the same ‘Why did you do it?’ questions, you know? I want to get a different angle on this woman and what was going through her head.”
“OK, makes sense.” I wondered where this was going.
Still pushing her salad around with her fork, Lizzie let out a breath. “I just feel like I’m going to screw it up. I’m so awkward and unpolished, and I just know any attempt I make to ask her tough questions is going to come with this terrible delivery. God, Knox, sometimes I wish I were a different type of person.”
“I don’t.” The words just fell out of my mouth as I picked my sandwich back up. “Not for one second. If you were a different person, I wouldn’t be sitting here on my tailgate having lunch with you, I can tell you that.”
