Page 95 of Blood Moon

Resuming a fragmented life with no Beth in it? It was a bleak prospect, and he realized why, and the realization caused him to lean weakly against the sink.

“Bowie, you dumb shit, how did you let this happen to you?”

The epiphany left him feeling depressed. He joined Mutt outside and tossed him a few sticks, but his heart wasn’t in it. Mutt sensed it and lagged before he did. Back inside, he filled Mutt’s food bowl. While his dog chowed down, he made coffee, then called Molly.

Trying to sound upbeat, he wished her a good morning.

She sounded no bouncier than he. “Hi, Dad.”

“Did I wake you up?”

“No. I got up early to work on my art project. It’s due next week.”

“You haven’t told me what it is.”

“It’s a surprise. You’ll get your private showing after I get my grade.”

He could tell she was in the doldrums and guessed they had nothing to do with her art project. “How are things on the home front?”

“They suck. I heardhimleaving a while ago, so at least he won’t spoil breakfast. But Mom and I had a knock-down,drag-out fight last night. She barged into my room still angry with me for not eating dinner with them. She called me a spoiled little shit, said, ‘Who do you think you are?’ and asked when I was going to grow up. I told her I would as soon as she did.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“I know. It is what it is.”

“Only for now. Not forever. When things get bad, remember that. And, listen, don’t forget to keep your wits about you.” He reemphasized everything he’d warned her of yesterday. “If you sense that something’s off, anything out of the ordinary, call me immediately.”

“I promise.”

“If you can’t reach me, call Mitch.”

“Cross my heart.”

“In fact, call me when school lets out.”

“Seriously, Dad?”

“Just to check in. Okay?”

“Okay!Jeez.”

That sounded like a spoiled little shit, but he let it go and told her goodbye. By then the coffee was ready. Beth reappeared looking restored and dressed similarly to how she’d been when they’d met in the bar.

The jeans and white t-shirt stirred him now even more than they had then, because now he knew what she looked like out of them. That made it difficult to cool his jets, as he’d resolved to do only fifteen minutes earlier.

He passed her a mug of coffee. She inhaled the aroma. “Ahhh. Thanks.”

“I didn’t really get to tell you last night how sorry I am about Longren.”

“Your actions spoke louder than words,” she said softly.

Damn. Thatlook. Did she practice it?

When he didn’t say anything, she glanced around the room. “I think that being here, in a totally different environment and having distance from the reality of his death, has blunted the pain somewhat.”

“Which leads me to the inevitable question, Beth. Are you going back, or staying on?”

“Staying on here? You mean past Thursday?” She put her hand to her cheek. “Oh God. That’s tomorrow.”