Chapter 4 - The Parking Lot Talk
The air outside the boutique felt too bright after the fitting room lights. I had to squint across the small parking lot while my eyes adjusted. The asphalt smelled hot, and a delivery truck rumbled past on the main road, shaking the heat in waves.
I still had my phone in my right hand and my car keys in my left. I hadn't put either down since I'd changed back into my jeans and blouse. The dress stayed inside on hold. The associate had smiled like nothing was wrong and printed the slip. My hands were full on purpose.
Daniel came out behind me. His suit jacket was over his arm now, his white shirt damp at the collar. He glanced back at the glass door, then stepped closer to me beside my car.
"Can we talk alone for a minute?" he said. His voice was low. "Just you and me."
I didn't unlock the door yet. I held the keys tighter until the metal edge pressed into my palm.
"Talk," I said.
He breathed out and rubbed the back of his neck. He wouldn't look straight at the phone.
"That thing in there, it wasn't what it sounded like," he said. "My mom talks crazy when she's nervous about money. She didn't mean it like that."
I waited. A car door slammed two rows over and a woman laughed into her cell.
"What did she mean?" I asked.
He shifted his weight. "She just meant after we're married, we'll all share stuff. Like family does. You're taking it wrong."
My throat felt dry. I wanted to swallow but I didn't. I looked at his hands. They were empty and restless, opening and closing.
"You want me to delete it," I said.
He nodded too fast. "Yeah. Just delete it. It's a misunderstanding and it's going to sit on your phone and poison everything. Please."
That please landed flat. I had heard him use that same tone when he wanted the check brought faster, polite but expecting yes.
Before I could answer, the boutique door opened again and his mother stepped out. Her heels clicked sharp on the pavement. She still had the beige handbag on her wrist, and she walked straight to him and took his arm just above the elbow, the same way she had held him inside by the curtain.
"Daniel," she said, smiling at me but gripping him. "Give her some air."
She turned that smile on me. "Honey, I could hear how upset you got in there. You misheard me. I was talking about the catering deposit. I said after the wedding, her apartment — meaning mine — and money will belong to us to sort out. You know how venues are."
I stared at her hand on his arm. Her nails were perfect and pale pink. He didn't move away.
"That's not what you said," I said.
Her smile didn't drop but her eyes narrowed a fraction. "You had a phone pointed at us. You can't really think that's fair, recording family without asking."
I felt the weight of the phone in my hand. It was warm from my grip. I slid my thumb along its light-colored case so I knew the buttons by feel.
"I'm keeping it," I said. "I'm not deleting anything."
Daniel frowned. "Come on. Don't do this. Let me drive you home so we can talk normal."
"No," I said. I hit the unlock on my key fob. My car beeped once. "I'm driving myself."
His mother tightened her hold on his arm and gave a little tug. "Let her go, Daniel. She needs time to calm down."
He looked between us, worried now, his mouth opening and then closing without sound. Sweat stood along his hairline.
"At least call me tonight," he said.
May you like
I opened my driver door and got in. I set my phone face-down in the cup holder for one second while I buckled, then picked it right back up again. Through the windshield I could see them standing together by the empty parking space, her hand still on his arm, his jacket bunched in his fist.
I started the engine and backed out. I didn't roll the window down. I drove past them toward the exit, my keys now in the ignition and my phone in my lap where I could feel it every time I braked. In the mirror, she leaned in and said something close to his ear, and he nodded without looking at me.
