“Oh, maybe we have gone t
oo far, Ryder.”
“They’ll get over it.”
“What will you tell them when you go back?”
“I went somewhere to think. They like that. I’ve used it a few times before. It makes me sound authentic. Worse comes to worst, I’ll have to join Summer at the therapist’s office. Let’s not worry about it right now. I like Kiera’s idea of having a good time. And I’m getting hungrier. I didn’t eat much at lunch.”
He sat up and looked at his watch.
“Maybe we should just meet her somewhere.”
“I’ll see where she is,” I said, and got up, too. We both dressed, and I went to my cell phone. Hers rang and rang, but she didn’t pick up. Her silly message came on.
“I know you’re just dying because I didn’t answer, but have hope and leave your name and number. I might call you back.”
“Kiera. We were wondering if it wouldn’t be better for us to meet you to eat. If you haven’t ordered anything yet, call me and tell me where you are.”
“She’s probably in a place in that mall where cell phones don’t pick up,” Ryder said.
He went to the minibar to look for something to eat and found a package of peanuts and some cheese and crackers.
“Dinner!” he cried, and offered me some.
We both gobbled it all.
“This is the best meal I’ve had in a long time,” he said. He checked his watch again. “I’ve got to get over to the mall, too, wherever it is, and buy a few things I’ll need for the next day or so.”
“You going to stay the whole time?”
“Maybe. What do you think?”
“Might look better if you leave earlier. I’ll need to give Kiera some attention anyway.”
“Right.” He poured some juice for me and for himself. Then he sat back with a wide grin on his face.
“What’s so funny?”
“How wonderful you are and how great this is,” he said. “Yesterday at this time, I was about as depressed and down as I’ve ever been.”
“Me, too.”
“To us,” he said, raising his glass.
“To us.”
We had started to drink when we heard a knock on the door.
“Isn’t she considerate?” Ryder said with a wide smile again.
“If anyone knows what goes on behind closed doors, she does,” I said. “Coming,” I called, and opened the door to face two California highway patrolmen. They looked past me at Ryder, who slowly rose.
“Ryder Garfield?” the one on my right asked.
“What’s this?” Ryder asked.
“You’ve been reported as a missing person,” the other patrolman said, moving in quickly.