“Okay.” I slowly walk to the door, and she follows me.
I turn toward her, and we stare at each other for a moment. So much I would like to say . . . to do.
Harry steps between us, forcing me back from her. “Do you mind?” I ask.
“Not at all,” he snaps.
I glare at him. “If you want to do something useful, keep Paul from Pilates off the property and away from your mother. He’s no good, that guy.”
Claire tries to hide her smile and fails abysmally. “Goodbye, Tristan.”
Harry’s eyes widen in horror. “Who’s Paul from Pilates?” he says as he looks between us.
I smile at Claire and give her a wink.
She narrows her eyes in return. “Nobody that you need to worry about,” she says. “Tristan is delusional.”
“Goodbye,” I say, feeling pleased with myself.
“Oh, Tristan,” Harry calls, and I turn back toward them. “Tick. Tock.” He smiles darkly, as if he has a secret.
I narrow my eyes . . . what the fuck does that mean? I shake it off. “Goodbye, Claire. Goodbye, Wizard.”
I walk out to my car, and I hear a little voice call, “Tristan?” I turn and see Patrick running out after me. He’s all messed up and just woken up. His hair is standing on end.
“Hey, buddy.” I smile.
His face falls. “Where are you going?” he asks.
“I have to go home.”
He catches his lip with his teeth, as if worried. “Well, are you coming back?”
“Of course I am.”
“When?”
“Um.” I glance up and see Claire standing at the door, watching us. “Soon.” I ruffle his hair and smile. “Thanks for hanging out with me last night. Next time I get to pick the movie.”
He swings his arms happily. “Okay.” He turns toward his mothe
r and smiles proudly.
With one last wave, I get into my car and drive away.
Half an hour out on the highway, and my car begins to shudder. I turn the radio down to listen to the engine. I accelerate, and it shudders again.
What’s going on?
I slow down and continue to drive, but the car seems to have no power.
What in the world?
It begins to shudder violently, and it limps along for a while. I eventually pull the car over and turn it off.
I sit for a moment and then turn it back on. It won’t click over.
The engine ticks as it tries to start, but it just won’t. “Oh, come on. You’ve got to be kidding me.”