“Let’s drink this and get out of here.” I indicated the bottle in front of us, realizing Vickie had forgotten to uncork it. I didn’t know how to do it, so Christy wrestled with the cork for a moment, then poured us both a glass.
“So, what’s up with her? You two must have some history for her to run and hide like she did.” Christy pulled no punches normally, and alcohol was only making her curiosity more potent.
The silverware was in my hands for no apparent reason, knife in one hand, fork in the other. I put them down, grabbed the napkin and held it in my lap. Thankfully it wasn’t made of paper, or I would have shredded it in a matter of moments.
“She’s, well, the catalyst for many things in my life.” God, I didn’t want to think about this right now.
Christy stared at me with open eyes
