CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Corbin

I closed my eyes and sighed. Yes, there was a lot here with Aimee, and I hated the idea of leaving her, but Jason clearly needed me if he was calling in the favor. “How long do you need me, and when do you need me there?”

“One day, tops. We got all the intricate stuff recorded before Nick went psycho-killer on that fan. The two missing songs are basic twelve-bar blues, no solos.”

“No zydeco?” I joked, then quickly added, “Never mind. Inside joke.” I couldn’t see a heavy metal band like Thrasherville adding in that unique sound that had gotten under my skin. Come to think of it, I couldn’t imagine Point Break incorporating the sound, either. Somehow that made me feel heavy and a little sad.

“Yeah, well…uh…we kinda need to start today,” Jason continued. “We have until midnight tomorrow to get the producer the recordings.”

I checked the time—9:30 am—and flipped open the airlines app on my phone to find available flights. If I drove like a bat outta hell and hoped the Security line at the airport was fast, I could catch the 10:49 out of Lafayette. That would put me in Chicago before 4:00. As far as return flights went—

“I can get in at 3:38 at O’Hare today, and there’s a return flight leaving at 9:30 on Saturday. Would that give you enough time?”

Jason’s sigh of relief was audible even over the poor cell service. “Thanks, man. You’re a lifesaver. A real rock and roll hero.”

Guilt surged up my back with the knowledge that I’d have to bail on Aimee’s dessert tasting date. But Aimee knew a thing or two about loyalty—the way she helped her Uncle Daniel out at Evangeline’s spoke volumes. She’d understand that I couldn’t let my friend be fucked over. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Silence met my statement, and I realized I’d lost even that one little bar. I frowned at my useless phone and shoved it in my pocket before bolting back into the house and up the stairs to grab a change of clothes. I didn’t have time to sort through the clothing, just stuffed all my shit into my one duffle bag, then grabbed my shaving kit from the bathroom before heading back down the stairs. Even if my phone was working, I didn’t even have Aimee’s cell number, I realized. I’d have barely enough time to find Aimee at Evangeline’s and explain why I couldn’t indulge in today’s dessert-fest, or tonight’s Aimee-fest, before heading to the airport at Lafayette. Damn, this was cutting it close.

I jumped in the GTO and left the car unlocked in Evangeline’s parking lot, then took the wooden steps two at a time into the roadhouse. I flung open the doors only to see a middle-aged waitress setting up tables. I didn’t see Aimee, but she could have been in the kitchen.

Walking over to the waitress, I waited until she set down some plates, checking out her nametag. “Excuse me, uh, Beth, but do you know where Aimee is?”

“No, can’t say I do at the moment. Why, sugar?”

I started to swear but paused. This town would turn me into a fucking choir boy soon, but I didn’t want to embarrass Aimee by being a dick. “Do you know where she might be?” When Beth shook her head, I frowned and pulled out my cell phone. Still no service, so I couldn’t call or text her. I noticed Beth was still staring at me, and asked a little, “Do you have some paper? I need to leave her a note.”

“Sure, I can get you something,” she said, reaching into her pocket and pulling a sheet from her order pad as well as a spare pen. “You can leave the note with me or shove it under the office door over there.” She gestured to a door next to the double swinging kitchen doors. “I do know she’ll be back by noon. She said she had a special guest coming.” The waitress eyed me, grinning knowingly, and said, “I take it you’re the special guest she’s all excited about. I haven’t seen our Aimee smiling this wide since, well…it’s been a while.”

And here I was, about to wipe that smile off Aimee’s face by not showing up. Damn. I really wanted to be able to break all this to her in person, to be able to explain to her that I’d far rather be staying here instead of heading out of town for a day. But with Aimee having flown the coop to who the fuck knew where, and with no way to call her, I was shit out of luck. I had to hope she wouldn’t be hurt when she read the note and knew I’d bailed on us being together today.

I sat at one of the tables and quickly jotted out a few words. It just felt like there was no way for me to create the right letter, that she’d still think it was so much bullshit. I’d just have to prove it to her after I got back from Chicago. The note wasn’t going to make it up to her, and that much I knew.

When I felt that I’d done as good a job as I could explaining the situation without going into too much detail—I’d just said a band I’d worked with before was recording an album and needed me on an urgent basis—I folded the note and stood, intending to slide it under the office door, the way the waitress had suggested.

But when I turned around, I found Deputy Dickhead staring at me. He was a little taller than I was and built like a football player. I had a feeling Brad was the type of guy who off duty would shoot the shit at the local hardware store or even at Evangeline’s and tell them about his glory days and winning the big game. The loser had “peaked in high school” written all over him.

He also had been giving too hard a sell to Aimee a couple nights ago. I didn’t trust him, and that broad smile on his face looked as fake as a two-dollar bill.

“What are you up to there, uh…sorry. Forgot your name.”

“Corbin,” I reminded him, shoving my one hand in my jeans pockets and holding tightly to the note in the other. “Nothin’ much. Just leaving a note for Aimee.”

Brad raised an eyebrow. Part of me wanted to brag, to be the old time Corbin, crowing that I’d bagged Aimee last night, but I just couldn’t be that guy. It would hurt her to dig in that we’d made love, but part of me still hoped that Brad was frustrated with the choices Aimee had made.

“I take it you’re headed out of town, moving along. Travel safe.”

“Nah, I’m not leaving Pontmaison,” I corrected. I didn’t much like how this asswipe was trying to run me out of town. “Just have some business in Chicago that will take me away for an overnighter.”

Brad’s face tightened, and the superior expression he wore changed to petulance. “Tell you what. I can just give that note to her in person.” He held out his hand for the note.

I stiffened and shook my head. The last thing I need is to get into some pissing contest with the local law enforcement. But I didn’t put it past good ’ol Brad to shove me in jail for a bullshit charge to keep me away from Aimee, and that would not only ruin Jason’s chance to finish Thrasherville’s record, but would also make tabloid headlines around the world. Point Break Bassist Arrested for Obstruction. I had no interest in either of those things.

But I sure as shit didn’t trust him.

If I gave that note to him, then he’d crumple it up or throw it in the trash, or something just as vindictive. I’ve met that meathead mentality before, and I can sniff out a lie from those kind of jerks a mile away.

“It’s fine,” I said, stooping quickly and shoving the note under the door. I stood, held out my open hands, and said, “All finished.” I offered the best smile I could, hoping my cocky grin said “Don’t fuck with me.”

Then I headed out of Evangeline’s, knowing I was leaving behind a very pissed off deputy and a soon-to-be very pissed off …what was Aimee to me? My lover, even if after only one night, yes. But the truth was, that didn’t seem like an appropriate moniker. It seemed too casual. Too temporary. And even though I knew that’s exactly what we were supposed to be—temporary lovers until the end of summer—I didn’t want to think of her that way.

What I wanted to think of her—no, what I did think of her as—was mine.

And I didn’t know if that made me crazy ass bonkers, or the smartest man on the fucking planet.

* * *

Aimee

When I got back to Evangeline’s a few minutes after noon Corbin’s car wasn’t in the parking lot, but that didn’t worry me. Miss Cecily had probably shown him the trail from the boarding house and he’d walked over. I figured he’d be waiting inside, ready for a tasty treat—and me. I couldn’t stop the butterflies in my tummy from dancing all around like they were listening to Uncle Daniel’s zydeco.

Elmer Lamell had made sure the electricity and water were still on at the old diner, so I’d been able to wash up and put on a little makeup after scrubbing the countertops and washing the front windows until they sparkled. I was ready for my date with Corbin.

Somewhere along the way, I’d realized that as much as I’d protested that I wasn’t dating Corbin, I was. What else would you call an arrangement to spend the summer together? This dessert tasting was a date, as sure as anything.

I ran up the steps lightly and pulled open the door to Evangeline’s, casting my gaze around the room. At their regular tables sat the folks who always came for Thursday’s red beans and rice. Remy stood behind the bar, polishing glasses ahead of service, and Toni, one of our substitute waitresses, was coming through the swinging doors, steaming platters of shrimp n’ grits in both hands. I frowned. Beth must have gone home sick if Toni was here. Elaine was right. Beth was great, but with her illnesses messing up the schedule, I needed to find another back-up waitress.

But no Corbin.

I wasn’t worried until I couldn’t find him in the kitchen. I even checked the office, which was unlocked—I’d have to remind Beth and Toni that they had to lock it back up if they used the office to change in. I even checked out back, wondering if maybe he’d taken a stroll along the banks of the bayou.

Corbin was nowhere, though.

I checked my phone then realized that although Corbin had asked for my number the first night we’d met, I actually had never given it to him. Even if I had, there were no bars and therefore no signal to receive calls or texts. I asked around, but Remy said he’d just arrived and hadn’t seen Corbin. I gave Corbin’s description to the regulars, but none of them had seen him, either. Even Brad, who’d been hanging out at the bar chatting with Remy, just gave me a shrug. Toni suggested I call Beth and ask her if Corbin had stopped by. I used the landline to call Beth’s house, but got no answer. Miss Cecily couldn’t afford the phone, so there was no landline at the boardinghouse for me to call.

Fear nudged me. He could have gotten lost, or fallen into the bayou, or crashed his car somewhere—

Best not let your imagination run away with you, Aimee, I reminded myself. There could be plenty of explanations. First, I had to get myself home and see if his car was still there. If it wasn’t, I could assume he’d either gotten lost or was injured. I could always call the sheriff and ask for help at that point.

I headed home and arrived to find Corbin’s car wasn’t out front. I fought back the worry and the bad feeling in my gut and checked inside the house, first the living room and then the kitchen. Neither Miss Cecily nor Corbin were in sight. With Miss Cecily, I wasn’t worried. Some days, she’d spent late into the night collecting her special ingredients and didn’t return until the moon was up. But Corbin?

Reality dawned on me slowly.

The worry and concern I’d felt earlier thinking something bad had happened to him faded away, replaced by fear. Bile ate at the back of my throat. “No,” I whispered. I rushed to where Miss Cecily kept her spare keys, then hurried up the stairs to Corbin’s room. The key seemed to stick in the door, but I realized that was because my own hands were shaking. When I finally got the lock to turn, the door fell open.

What I saw made me want to vomit.

The entire room was empty. His clothes and his duffle bag were gone. I ran down the hall to the bathroom, where I remembered he’d hung his shaving kit on the peg marked with his room number. Even that was missing.

Everything was gone.

Everything, including Corbin.

Slumping down onto the wooden bathroom floor, I brought my hand to my chest and even though I tried, I couldn’t stop the tears from falling. I’d only just met him. We’d only been together one night, but that night with Corbin had meant something to me. It had meant more than the entire summer I’d spent last year with that graduate student, Bill.

This was what it must have felt like all those years ago when my deadbeat father disappeared on Mom. This must be how she felt time and time again when a man would come into her life, allow her to feel for him, and then take off into the night. As I sat and sobbed, tears streaming down my cheeks, I realized that although my mother had made terrible choices when it came to parenting me, she’d done so out of a need for love. I couldn’t quite forgive my mother, but finally I understood, if but a little. She’d been abandoned time and time again, and without realizing it, had abandoned me the same way.

Just as Corbin had abandoned me, leaving me behind without a care.