Page 9 of Sublimate
“I love that,” I said, smiling. “How lucky! I always wished I had grandparents. Did your grandma make crafts with you? Did you go fishing with your grandfather?”
Nolan shook his head and also smiled. Maybe it shouldn’t have been called that, though, because smiles were supposed to have been expressions of happiness and joy and his just looked bitter. “No, we certainly never did any of those things. They were both very busy.”
“Do you have brothers and sisters?”
“No,” he said again. “I do have a lot of cousins and second cousins because I come from a big family. I’m a Whitaker. We’re all over the country but there’s a large population of us in this area and another clump around Detroit, where my parents live.”
Nolan Whitaker. Whitaker. “I’ve seen that name,” I said, nodding.
“Maybe you saw it on the athletic complex. Maybe you visited the Willa Whitaker Botanical Gardens, or the Whitaker Theater downtown. There’s also the Whitaker Museum of Michigan History, the Whitaker Archive, and the Whitaker Reading Room at the public library.”
“I think I saw it on a car dealership,” I told him.
“There are a lot of businesses, too,” he agreed.
“Do you work at one of them?”
“No.” He pointed at me. “Las Vegas. Is that where you’re from?”
“A lot is coming back to you! Yes, I told you that I was born north of there.” I glanced through the restaurant window at the sun, which seemed to have sunk a lot lower. Had we been here that long? “I don’t have my phone. Do you know what time it is?” He checked, and it was definitely later than I’d realized. “I have to get home,” I said. “I guess I cleared up a few things for you. You did for me, too.”
“Did I? Oh, you mean about why the ride got canceled when I was already in the car. My friend thought it would be funny.”
I had meant that, but also more. I had been curious about how he’d had a tab at the bar, Roy’s Tavern, and about why he’d been passed out in that car. But the way he’d just poured all the liquor into his cup and drank it, and the way he was talking now without a slur or a mumble, proved to me that this was habitual. He was very used to alcohol. “Are you safe to drive?” I wondered.
“Yes.” He stood and picked up the tray, which was mostly empty because I’d eaten everything.
“Did I answer all your questions?” I asked next. But he had walked to toss the garbage and then he went to the door. I got up too and when I approached, he held it open for me. “Thank you,” I said. I shivered a little because it felt like the temperature had dropped along with the sun.
“Where’s your coat?”
“I must have lost it.” I didn’t have my phone and Kolter couldn’t see my location, but it meant that I couldn’t see his either. Iwondered if he was already at his house, waiting. I could practice my story about where I had been as I drove back there.
“Thank you for coming out with me,” Nolan said. “Thank you for saving me that night. Here, this is for you.”
He was holding something out, his palm facing down so that I couldn’t see what it was. I reached for it anyway and came away with several bills. Hundred-dollar bills. “What is this for?” I asked.
“Since I didn’t pay you that night, now I am,” he answered.
“Thank you. And thank you for the food.” I wasn’t sure what to do next so I reached out to him for a second time, not to return the money but to shake like we were ending a business meeting. He smiled again but he seemed amused instead of angry. We briefly clasped hands and then his went back to his pocket, but he didn’t take out the empty flask. Now he held his phone.
“Could I get your number? Just in case,” he explained.
“Just in case?” Then I realized what he meant: just in case he needed help, he wanted to have a reliable person to depend on. I was glad he thought that about me so I recited mine aloud but immediately added, “Don’t text me right now! Only do it if you have an emergency.” It would have been a very bad thing if Kolter was home and saw an unknown message come up on the phone that I’d left on the couch.
“Then you won’t have my information,” he pointed out. “You might have an emergency yourself and need it.”
“You can just tell me. I won’t forget because I’m good with stuff like that,” I said.
He did recite the digits, speaking slowly and with an expression that made me sure that he didn’t have a lot of faith in my memory. “Bye, Vivi.”
He was still in the parking lot when I left and went home, driving a little too quickly because I was so anxious. But Kolter’s car wasn’t there and I parked exactly where I had before, so he wouldn’t notice that I’d even been gone. My phone was still on the couch and there were no new texts or missed calls from him, either.
I drew in a deep breath and nodded slightly, thinking that this had worked out ok. But it had been a silly thing to do, a dumb risk to take.
I took out the money that Nolan had just given me and admired the crisp, green and white bills. Was this enough to fix the dryer so I could take in laundry again? Probably, but Kolter would question how I was able to do that and he might have gotten mad that I was having strangers touch his stuff, even a repair person. For now, I added this windfall to my secret stash of funds.
My boyfriend got home a little later and I had his dinner already finished. It wasn’t much, because we didn’t have much and also because the stove kept turning itself off, but he seemed fine with it when I handed him a plate as he sat on the couch. “What did you do with that Christmas tree?” he asked.
