He nodded. Something settled in his face. Something that had been held slightly taught unwinding. Good, he said. You?
She asked. He looked at her for a moment. The regional director role is the most challenging thing I've done professionally in 10 years. He said Lily got a speaking part in the school play, Mrs. Patterson is flying up in February for a visit and she's already emailed me twice about which restaurant she wants to go to.
He paused. And you're here? I'm here, she said. Then yes, he said. I'm happy.
She pointed at his sandwich. Eat, she said. You have a 2:00. How do you know I have a 2:00? You always have a 2:00 on Wednesdays.
You've mentioned it 11 times. He picked up his sandwich. He ate it. and they sat in a Nashville office on a Wednesday afternoon eating lunch like people who work near each other and like each other and have built lives in the same city like something that had always been this simple and had just taken a while to arrive. There was a night in March, 6 months after Clare had moved to Nashville that became the night they talked about the highway. They were at Marcus's kitchen table after dinner.
Lily was at a sleepover, which happened more often now that she had friends she trusted enough to sleep at their houses and the dishes were done and the coffee was made and neither of them had anywhere to be. Marcus said out of nowhere, "Do you remember exactly what you thought when you saw my headlights?" She looked at him on I-20. "Yeah," she thought about it. "I thought it was going to pass," she said.
"I was counting on it passing. I had calculated that if I got to the next exit, I could probably find a gas station or somewhere with Wi-Fi. I had a plan. You were alone on a highway in the dark with a dead phone and a plan. He said, "I always have a plan," she said.
And then the headlights slowed down. And then the headlights slowed down, she said. And my first thought was, "Of course. Of course. Of all the nights, this is the night someone stops."
"You were annoyed," he said. "I was terrified," she said. And then I saw it was a truck, which made it worse. And then I saw it was you, which I didn't know yet was better. He looked at his coffee.
I almost didn't stop, he said. She went still. I saw you, he said. I recognized the walk. And my first thought was, she's fine.