Page 111 of I Hope This Finds You Well

“Thank you,” I pretty much whisper. After everything tonight, all I want is to collapse into my bed and sleep for a million years. Taking the bus would’ve taken me out.

He holds out a paper box. “I smuggled one before the vultures emptied it. It’s lemon custard.”

I accept his offering and pull open the lid. Inside, there’s a single donut with pale yellow icing and white sprinkles. I want to cry when the decadent scent pulls toward me. But I think I’m out of tears for this quarter. “This donut might save my soul.”

He laughs and gazes through his windshield toward the office building. “Where’s Caitlin?”

I swallow the first glorious sweet-and-tart bite. “She just caught the bus, right before you pulled up.”

He taps his steering wheel. “Ah.”

I let out a breath, thinking about what might happen when she confronts Kyle tonight.

But there’s nothing else I can do. I have to believe that.

I lean toward Cliff. “So, did you score any great Warhammers?”

“I... may as well just say yes.”

“Oh, it’s like that?” I can’t help my smile. “Do you really paint the little game pieces yourself? How do you do the eyeballs?”

He turns to face me, brow raised. “You googled.”

“I did.”

“I have painted many a game piece, but the eyes are a whole other layer to get into. I’ll need five hours of your focused time as a starting point.”

“Probably for the best we leave it for another day, then.” I drop my head back against the seat. “Tonight was long.”

Cliff’s eyes are soft under the car’s faded overhead light. “That bad, eh?”

“We got the work done. It was just... hard.”

He nods. “Then let’s get you home.”

I watch through the windshield as the car pulls away from the curb, turning onto the street.

“Thank you for picking me up,” I tell him. “I know you said you were nearby anyway, but I’m glad you checked.”

“No problem.” We stop at a red, and he nods toward the digital car clock. “It’s really late to be taking the bus.”

Before I can stop myself, I nudge his arm with mine. “Aww, you do care.”

He looks toward me and says, with too much feeling, “Very much.”

And it’s like an anvil has dropped between us. All the air in the car feels charged. A palpable urgency crawls into me.

“I care too,” I whisper.

Cliff’s voice softens. “I know you do.”

The words float in the car between us, neither of us daring to say more.

We spend the rest of the drive home in comfortable silence. I stretch my hand into the back seat and let Biscuit lick it, laughing a little because he’s really going to town.

Finally, we pull up in front of my building. I look out at the darkened street, the flickering flood lights.

Cliff inhales. “Hey, Jolene, I want to tell you something. Off the record.”