Free Brine by Kate; Smith Page A

Allen asked. “A peck?”
    Allen looked hard at Ishmael and then turned his eyes back to the road.
    “Allen, I said yes when another man asked me to marry him. Clearly I’m not in love with you anymore.”
    Diane gasped.
    “Sorry ,” Diane said when they both glanced back at her. “This is better than my soaps.”
    “Clearly,” Allen said. He shifted and looked over at Ishmael. “Clearly, since you popped by my apartment with no clothes on this morning. Clearly, since we’re off to the pawnshop to pawn your engagement ring.”
    Ishmael took a deep breath.
    “Allen, I appreciate this,” she said. “I appreciate you. You were the only one I could trust not to ship me off to a psychiatric ward or Sea World. No one else would have done this for me. Let’s just—let’s not do this tonight. Let’s not get in a fight.”
    “I think you should get your own room when we stop at the hotel tonight.”
    Ishmael shot a look at him, amused. A broad smile swept across her face.
    “You actually thought we were going to sleep together tonight?” She stared at him even harder. “Seriously?”
    Allen didn’t answer. Eyes on the road.
    Ishmael shook her head and huffed out an incredulous laugh.
    “Did it ever cross your mind that I might have come to you because at one point in time you were my dad’s best friend? We’re like family, Allen. We should never have crossed that line.”
    “We crossed a line? I think it’s you. You’ve gotten in over your head.”
    “Well, then, it’s a good thing I’m a mermaid,” she said.
    Allen pulled into the pizza place, slammed into park, and loudly shut the door. The inside of the truck fell to silence.
    Ishmael was fuming: she wasn’t sure whether she wanted to kiss Allen or slap him. She rubbed a hand across her buzzed scalp.
    “I know you’re awake, Diane,” Ishmael said after a moment in the quiet.
    “You’re doing the right thing, sugar.”
    “I know I am,” Ishmael said. “Doesn’t make it easy though.”
    “He’s heartbroken,” Diane said, sitting up. “You know that, right?”
    “Yeah, well, I care about him.” Ishmael looked off for a moment, but then brought her attention back into the truck. “And we all know after what I’ve been through; I could stand to get laid.” She took a deep breath. “But I’ve got to keep a clear head. Not get side-tracked.”
    “That-a girl.”
    “Whatever lies ahead is all mine to deal with. I don’t need anyone holding my hand through all this.”
    Ishmael glanced out the window.
    “Here he comes,” Ishmael said, cracking open the door. “I’m going to ride in the back.”
    “I’ll pass a slice or two back to you,” Diane said, reading Ishmael’s mind.
    Ishmael climbed into the camper, which was a sea of blankets. Allen had laid out two sleeping bags and tossed a few pillows back there as well. She needed to get some rest. Even from the back, as soon as Allen opened the door, she caught a whiff of cheese melting on warm dough. She distinctly smelled the anchovies, suddenly aware of her hunger.
    “Where’d she go?” she heard Allen ask.
    “She’s riding in the camper, darling,” Diane answered. “We figured that was the safest place for her. You know, in case we get pulled over or anything. Don’t want anyone recognizing the dead girl we’ve got riding around with us.”
    Ishmael was suddenly grateful Diane was along for the journey.
    A sound of shuffling pizza boxes, and Diane tapped on the sliding window between the truck and the camper, passing back an entire pizza box with napkins on top. Diane winked at Ishmael, then slid the window shut.
    Ishmael heard Diane moving into the front seat, seatbelts buckling.
    “What do you say to rushing this special delivery?” Diane asked.
    Ishmael peeked through the curtain between the camper and the cab of the truck.
    “Drive straight on through. Cross country like Kerouac. I’ll grab us some energy drinks at the next gas station.”
    “Yeah. Sure,” he