Hidden Palms by Harry Bryant

Author:Harry Bryant [Bryant, Harry]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-63023-101-9
Publisher: ROTA Books
Published: 2017-04-10T21:06:27+00:00

The food, when it arrived and spared me further embarrassment, was delicious. We continued to talk about everything and nothing, laughing more often than not. Finding excuses to touch more often than not. Our legs, pressing against one another. Moving apart, and coming back again. Her lips, lingering on the rim of her glass. Her eyes, watching me.

By the time Julio had cleared the plates and was working on getting us after-dinner coffees, I was ready to sweep the decorative candles off the table and climb over it and kiss her. Judging by the look in her eye, she was hoping I would.

Julio cleared his throat, and I pulled my gaze away from Dolly's face. "Would you like to see a dessert menu?" he asked.

"If it's more complicated than pudding in a cup that is ready to serve right now, then no," I said.

Julio looked at Dolly, who shook her head politely. He may have rolled his eyes slightly as he walked off.

I started toying with the edge of the decorative display, sliding it back and forth an inch or so.

A phone rang somewhere close by. Dolly's eyebrows pinched together, and her lips firmed.

"Is that . . . ?" I asked.

"It's my cellphone," she said.

We listened to it ring twice more.

"Shouldn't you answer that?" I asked.

"They'll leave a message," she said, and the phone stopped ringing. "See?" she said.

Ten seconds later, it started ringing again.

"I'm sorry," she said, reaching for her tiny purse. "It's probably Rick, at the hotel. This'll just be a second."

"It's no problem," I said.

She found her tiny flip phone in her purse, and a puzzled expression crossed her face when she looked at the display. She flipped the phone open and put it to her ear.

"Hello?" she said. "Yes, this is she. Uh, okay."

She glanced at me, and there was something in her eyes that I hadn't seen all evening.

"Yes," she said, breathlessly returning her attention to the phone. "David? What's going on?" She listened intently, her eyes tracking back and forth. "My God," she muttered. "You didn't. Oh my God, David. No." She put her hand over her mouth, fighting back some emotion that threatened to spill out of her.

"No," she said sternly in response to something said to her. "I am not calling Mom. Just—no, damnit. David. We talked about this. You were supposed—" Her lips made a tight line and she shook her head slowly as she listened. "I'll be there," she interrupted. "I'm coming down there now. No! I'm coming down."

She hung up the phone before anything else could be said, and then she put her head in her hands. Her shoulders shook as she drew in a long breath. She dropped her hands to the table, and raised her face to me. Her eyes were bright with tears. "I have to go," she said in a tiny voice.

"What is it?" I asked.

She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Bliss. I'm so sorry."

She stuffed her phone in her purse as she pushed her chair back from the table.

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