Page 241 of Break Away
Debra arrived in a red minivan with three bumper stickers, six dashboard crystals, a dreamcatcher hanging from the rearview mirror, and the emotional energy of a woman who had never minded her own business in her life.
She rolled down the window as we approached. “Easton?”
Easton glanced at me.
I smiled sweetly. “Go on.”
He sighed. “That’s me.”
Debra’s eyes went from him to me, then back to him with immediate, predatory delight. “Oh, this is a date.”
Easton opened the door for me. “It was supposed to be.”
I climbed into the back. “Still is.”
Debra gasped. “That was beautiful.”
Easton muttered, “Please don’t encourage her.”
Debra put the minivan in drive before he had fully shut his door. “Where we headed, beautiful disasters?”
“The North Pier Room,” Easton said.
Debra whistled. “Fancy. Somebody messed up.”
I pointed at him. “He’s groveling with napkins.”
Easton’s head turned slowly. “I am not groveling with napkins.”
“Then what would you call this outfit?”
“Appropriate dinner attire.”
Debra looked at him in the rearview mirror. “Honey, that shirt says apology and upper-body confidence.”
I slapped a hand over my mouth.
Easton stared at the back of her seat. “This is going poorly.”
“No, baby, this is going memorable,” Debra said. “Poorly is my second husband trying to propose at a funeral because, and I quote, love should meet grief where it lives.”
I leaned forward. “Debra, I need you to know I’m obsessed with you.”
“I get that a lot.”
Easton looked out the window like he was praying for patience in a nonverbal way.
Debra took a turn that did not appear to be toward the lake. Easton sat up. “Isn’t the restaurant the other direction?”
“Construction.”
“There wasn’t construction on the app.”
“The app doesn’t know everything. The app also told me my third husband’s house was four minutes away, and that man was emotionally unreachable for eight years.”
I nodded. “Valid.”
Easton’s jaw flexed. “We’re going to miss the reservation.”
