I don’t have much time. Graham is upstairs in his office, and I’m sure it won’t be long before he discovers his keys are missing. If I’m going to leave, it has to be right now.
And I’m not sure I can do it alone.
I slide my phone out of my pocket. I bring up the text messages from Harry, which I never deleted. Hell, I’ll be in enough trouble if Graham discovers the phone—the text messages are the least of my problems. I quickly type in a message to Harry:
I found Graham’s keys. I’m leaving this place and I’m never coming back. Meet me at the McDonald’s we always used to go to.
He’ll know what I mean by that. Back when we first bought the house and were feeling broke from the huge mortgage we signed, we tried to save money by eating at McDonald’s. A lot. I would order six chicken nuggets and a small french fries with a Diet Coke. Harry would get a quarter pounder with a Sprite and large fries. We always used to sit in the far corner, at the same table if we could snag it.
If I still remember, I’m sure he still remembers too.
I grab the sneakers that I abandoned at the front door. I have to be quick. Graham could come out of his office at any moment. After I tie the laces, I check my phone again. This time, Harry has responded:
This is a mistake. Don’t do this. I can’t meet you.
I type my answer:
I’m going anyway. Whether you meet me or not. But I have no money and no driver’s license. I could use your help.
The three bubbles appear at the bottom of the screen. I can’t wait for him to make up his mind. I have to leave. If I don’t go now, I’ll have missed my opportunity. And I don’t know if I’ll ever get another one.
I imagine waking up tomorrow and remembering today.
That would be nice.
I shove my phone back in my pocket and grab my jacket. As I’m unlocking the front door, I hear whimpering next to me. I look down and Ziggy is by my side.
Shit. I can’t leave him behind. Graham hates Ziggy. God knows what he’ll do.
“We’re going on a little trip, Ziggy,” I tell him. Hopefully, Ziggy is good during car rides.
I’ve got my fingers and my toes crossed that Graham does not drive a stick shift, because I have no idea how to operate one of those. He’s exactly the kind of guy who would drive a stick shift. But thank God, his BMW seems to have automatic transmission.
This morning, Graham told me something about how I couldn’t drive because of having seizures. But truthfully, I don’t believe a word he says anymore. I don’t know if I have seizures or not. But I know how to operate a car. And I know how to get to that McDonald’s. And despite what he said, I think Harry will be there, waiting for me. I’m counting on it.
I herd my dog into the backseat of the car, then I slide into the driver seat. The seats are leather, and there are so many controls, at first I’m scared I can’t drive this car. But it’s got an ignition and a gearshift to put the car in the drive. There’s a gas pedal and a brake. That’s all I need to know.
The roads are crowded as I make my way down the familiar twenty-minute route to McDonald’s. It’s rush hour,
after all. But that might work to my advantage. Nobody will notice me. Harry and I can take off from here and nobody will even remember us.
I hope he shows up. I think he will. Maybe.
By the time I reach McDonald’s, my hands are shaking. I don’t know what to expect anymore. Maybe Harry was right. Maybe this was a mistake. I spent the day being suspicious of Graham, but it’s obvious I did have a head injury. There’s a giant scar on the right side of my skull. Maybe I’ve got this all wrong.
I pull into the parking lot of the McDonald’s. Ziggy lets out a yelp from the backseat. I crane my neck to look at him. “Listen, you’ve got to stay back there. I promise I’ll be back soon.”
He whimpers again like he’s trying to tell me something. Unlike me, Ziggy remembers yesterday. If only he could talk
—that would be such a big help.
I crack the window open a bit for him, then I lock the doors and head into the McDonald’s. The restaurant is appropriately crowded for the dinner time rush, and the smell of grease permeates every corner of the fast-food restaurant. There’s a low thrum of activity throughout the room—families eating, orders being taken, fries being salted. I scan the room, my heart thumping in my chest. There must be at least thirty people in this restaurant.
But no Harry.
He didn’t come. Dammit.
Even though he said he wasn’t coming, it’s still a blow. But it’s fine. I can do this myself. Okay, I don’t have any money. That part isn’t good. But I bet Graham has a twenty stashed away somewhere in the car. Or I could sell the car and trade it in for something much cheaper. Although I’m not sure how easy that will be if I don’t have the title. But at least, I could try to—
“Tess?”
I turn around. Oh my God. It’s him. It’s Harry. He came.
This morning, when I saw him through the gate, I couldn’t touch him. But now he’s here in the flesh. Inches away from me. And I can’t help myself. I propel myself at him.
And then we’re kissing. And it’s not a church kiss, that’s for sure. I melt against him like it’s been a decade since we’ve kissed, which it almost has been. He pulls me closer, his fingers strong and warm. This morning, I wasn’t sure if this would ever happen again for the rest of my life. And now here he is. And we’re going to leave here together.
When we finally separate, we’re both breathing hard. I rub my chin with my finger and it feels tender. “Your beard is scratchy,” I whisper.
He manages to smile, but there’s a worried crease between his eyebrows. “Tess,” he says. “Did you get my last message?”
I nod. “About not coming? Yes. But you came anyway.
Thank you.”
There’s a panicked look on his face. “No, not that message. The one after.”
I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone. There’s one final message from Harry on the screen, which I never saw before I left the house:
Leave your phone behind.
Harry’s face falls. “You’ve got your phone.”
“I had to bring it. So I could be in contact with you…”
He tugs on the collar of his shirt. “But he can track you through your phone. That’s the only reason he ever let you have it in the first place.”
I get a sinking feeling in my stomach. “Oh…”
“It’ll be okay.” His Adam’s apple bobs. “But we need to get out of here right now. We’ll ditch your phone.”
“He may not have even noticed I’m gone yet…”
“I think he has.” Harry shakes his head. “I think he gets an alert if you leave the house. But we’ve got a head start. And you took his car. But we have to go right now.”
Harry leads me to the exit of the McDonald’s. We’ve got time. Even if we just have ten minutes, we can take off in Harry’s car and he’ll never know where we went. This will be fine.
Except the second we get out of McDonald’s, I see him.
Graham. Standing there, a dark look in his eyes.
And in the distance, I can hear the police sirens.
