She smiles at the color that continues to spread, and when he stands and goes closer, she squeezes his hand. “It’s so good to see you again. Go inside and wait with Nora. I’ll just be a moment more.” She releases his hand, and watches as the trio – because of course the dog joins them – makes their way inside, so the door shuts with a soft bang, and the only people who remain are me, Luke, and Sonia… and a dozen or so dog treats littering the ground.
The silence is deafening. The pressure almost too heavy to stand under.
“So…” Sonia smothers a soft chuckle. “You guys took the llama?”
“Oh god.” I sit back on the bench seat and groan. “The llama! I forgot about the damn llama.”
“I seem to have gotten a somewhat clearer idea of how your weekend went, Ally. It would have been nice if you’d told me about it sooner – offense, rather than defense. But what is done is done.”
“Right,” I sigh and push up from the seat. “What’s done is done. I’ll head home in the next couple days and get out of your way. I understand I’ve done the wrong thing, so I won’t ask for a recommendation for my resume. That would be immeasurably rude.”
“She talks in big words when she’s nervous.”
My eyes flash with rage as I glare at the man standing over Sonia’s shoulder. Shut up!
“I would like for you to work with Luke,” Sonia says in her calm, therapist voice, so her simple words, her quiet demeanor bring my attention back to her with an ache in my neck.
“What?”
“Work with him,” she repeats with a smile. “I want you to put the llama back, but you cannot get caught. That would be a terrible move, career-wise.”
“Put the– the–” Images of dancing llamas and flashing police lights float through my mind. “Are you crazy? We can’t put it back! I don’t even remember where we took the damn thing from in the first place.”
“I told her the other day that we had to put it back,” Luke taunts. “I said it had to be done.”
“Luke knows where it belongs,” Sonia says. “Despite what most everyone in this town thinks of the illustrious Miss Dixie, stealing the second statue, especially all these years after the first was stolen, borders on cruel. She’s a special type of woman. She needs the companionship, and even if it’s just plastic, even if we think it’s foolish, it’s not for us to judge.”
“But I don’t… I’m not…”
“You’re not allowed to get caught,” she continues. “You must place Chester back in his rightful place, under the cover of d–”
“Wait. Chester?”
Sonia stops, bites her bottom lip, and lifts her brows. “Hm?”
“You called him Chester. He has a name?”
“Oh, yes.” She waves me off, like I don’t notice the way her cheeks warm. “He has a name, though I’m not sure if Miss Dixie herself knows his name.”
I bring my brows together, narrow my gaze, and lean closer to my innocent-at-first-sight great-grandmother. “You had something to do with all this, didn’t you? We speak of the llama, but my drunk brain still remembers the ice cream statue in Luke’s kitchen. There are two statues, Gigi! What the hell did you do?”
Silence drops down over our small group. It’s like a blanket being draped over us, as Sonia’s eyes scan mine, and I realize my mistake.
“Oh…” Warmth spreads through my cheeks. “The Gigi thing. Don’t worry about– That was just…” I scramble for a single coherent thought. “A slip of the tongue.”
“You know I like it.” She reaches out for my hand. “If it does not make you uncomfortable, I would love it if you continued using that name for me. It creates a special type of relationship, doesn’t it? A special bond.”
“Um…”
“But you can think on it. As always, no pressure.” She takes a step back and releases my hand. “As for your accusation, I had nothing to do with the first statue.”
“Lies,” Luke coughs so hard that Sonia’s hair flutters. “She knows.”
Sonia firms her lips, but forces a smile. “I did not steal the first statue. However, I know who did. Fortunately for that person, they are protected under client confidentiality.”
“It was my aunt!” Luke explodes. “My aunt and her friends stole him in the middle of the night because Dixie is a bitch.”
“And now you will return Chester,” Sonia grits out. “Without getting caught. Return him,” she looks to me, “and you may come back to the office tomorrow. You have not admitted to any crimes. Luke has, and he did so during a session, which means he is protected by one of the many clauses in our contracts of engagement.”
“Get rid of old man Rivera,” Luke drawls for Sonia, “and I’ll enter a contract of engagement with you.” He flashes a playful grin when she looks over her shoulder and glares.
“I see a little resemblance,” he continues. “The angry eyes look the same. The cranky lips. And now that I know, I’m feeling all sorts of conflicted about my therapist and the way she speaks to me. Firm but compassionate. Unbending but bending.” He winks, just to be as obnoxious as absolutely possible in this moment. “If you get me.”
“I’m about to fail you out of these sessions,” Sonia whips out. “Zip it, Hart. Return the damn statue, do not get caught, because if you do, the judge will order a hell of a lot more than therapy and community service down at the lake. Now go.”
“Wait.” My stomach dips. “Go?”
“Go!” she repeats. “Figure out your plan, put the frickin’ statue back where it belongs. And do not hit on me ever again,” she says for Luke. “I’m about to boot your ass back to your mother’s house. She’ll deal with you.”
“We’re going that way anyway.” Luke grabs my hand and holds on tight when I try to yank it back. “Catch you on the flippity-flop. Thanks for excusing Ally from work today.” He looks to me with childish glee. “Ándale. Let’s go.”
“Luke!” I try to pull my hand from his. “Stop.”
“You can ride in my truck.” He drags me toward the road, to the row of cars parked out front of the practice. An SUV, a truck that looks especially expensive and extra bomb-proof – could be Kane’s – and then an older Bronco with rusted panels and half of the roof missing. Luke holds my hand right up until he opens the squeaky door and he’s able to herd me in, then he slams it shut again and bolts around to his side before I’ve had a chance to escape.
My phone goes off – buzz, buzz, buzz – as Luke closes his door and jams his keys into the ignition, but before I can make a single move, we’re rolling away from my work and heading toward Main Street.
“You gonna answer that?”
It feels like my brain is foggy all over again. Like perhaps the hangover I suffered through this weekend wasn’t a hangover at all. Perhaps it’s just what I feel when Luke is near. Foggy-brained, swirling stomach, homicidal tendencies.
“Yooo, Allyson. You in there?”