Coda 01 - Promises

fridge looks a little better than this.” He closed it and turned to me, rubbing his hands in anticipation. “Let’s stop by the deli and get some sandwiches to take with us. I’m starving already.”
    I wasn’t sure our sandwich shop (I couldn’t quite call it a deli) would be open yet, but we could at least hit the grocery store.
    “You ready?” he asked.
“All set.”
    “Great. We’ll get some food, then, um”—why was he looking so flustered?—“we need to stop by and pick up Cherie on our way out of town.”
    I felt like he had just punched me in the stomach. “Cherie?”
    He at least had the decency to look miserable. “I know. Here’s the deal: A few nights ago, we got a call for a domestic disturbance. And it turned out to be her house. Her loser ex-husband—what’s his name again?”
    “Dan Snyder.”
    “Right. He was there. He was so drunk he could hardly stand up. She was crying, and he was screaming, calling her a whore and worse. And it looked like maybe he had hit her, too, but of course she denied it. On domestic calls, we have to take somebody in, so we arrested him. And that got ugly.
    “Anyway, she tracked me down the next day. She showed up at my house, for Christ’s sake. Said she wanted to thank me, so would I come to dinner at her place? She didn’t seem to want to take no for an answer. So I got her to agree to come along with us today instead. Seemed a lot safer than going alone to her house.” He sighed and then cocked his eyebrow at me, one corner of his mouth barely twitching up. I was beginning to realize this was what amounted to a smile for him. “Consider yourself our chaperone.”
    “So you need me to defend your virtue?” I was trying not to smile.
    “Not my virtue so much as my independence.”
“I’m defending your independence?”
He winked at me. “Exactly.”
    I had to laugh. “Sweet! I’ve always wanted to be a goddamn freedom fighter. But you’re definitely going to owe me a beer for this one!”
    He looked enormously relieved. “I promise.”
    Knowing that he wasn’t too interested in seeing her made me feel a little better. It was obvious when we picked her up that Matt hadn’t really clarified that they weren’t going to be alone. She wasn’t any happier to see me than I was to see her. Still, she seemed determined to make the best of it. I got out of the Jeep and started to climb into the back.
    “Jared, don’t be silly. With your long legs, you’ll be miserable back there. It’s no problem for me to sit in the back.” I guess chivalry really is dead, because I didn’t argue. She obviously did not consider me a rival for his attention. And why would she? I had to remind myself that I wasn’t. She situated herself in the middle of the back seat so she could easily lean forward between the seats to talk to us, and we set off.
    We had the GPS location of the cache. Given that and a handheld GPS, it seemed like it should be easy to find the spot. But actually, finding a way there turned out to be surprisingly difficult. We had a big book of topographical maps, which would have been great if they hadn’t been ten years old. We spent several hours roaming the high country, trying to find the trail that would take us to the little box of goodies.
    “So, Matt, where did you move here from?” Cherie asked. “I’ve lived a lot of places. Oklahoma most recently, but I’ve also lived in Texas, Arkansas, and Kansas City.” He looked pointedly at me when he said that last one.
    I laughed at him. “That explains it! I was wondering why a boy from Oklahoma would be a Kansas City Chiefs fan! Now that you’re here in Colorado, where we have a real team, you really need to change your tune. I’ll take you to a game, and you can be converted by the Mile High Magic!”
    “You Coloradoans are so deluded. You think Mile High is so great? You ever been to Arrowhead? Those people know how to tailgate! Barbecue cooking all day all over the lot. You can smell it for miles. You Broncos fans have a lot to learn!”
    “I love barbecue as much as the next man, but it really doesn’t justify cheering for a mediocre team, does it?” I was still laughing, and although his expression was still pretty guarded, I could tell he was having fun.
    “Mediocre? We only finished one game behind you last season, and that’s only because our running back was out for half the season. I bet—”
    “So ,” Cherie cut in from the back seat. We both jumped a