W Is for Wasted

significance as far as I could see. Gasoline receipts and parking tickets, plus paper trash of every conceivable sort. I returned all the miscellany and used brute force to get the glove compartment closed.
    • • •
    At 4:00, Dietz dropped me at my place while he returned to the hotel to shower. He said he’d be back to pick me up at 7:00. In an earlier conversation, he’d mentioned Emile’s for drinks and dinner, but he hadn’t mentioned it since. As I got out of the car, I leaned in the window. “What’s the dress code?”
    “Wear what you have on.”
    I looked down at my filthy hands and my sooty jeans and decided against. “I look like shit.”
    “No, you don’t. You look cute.”
    I watched him drive away, and I then passed through the gate and around to the rear patio, where I let myself into the studio. The first thing I did was to sit down at my desk. The bulky package Dace had mailed to himself had been sitting there since the volunteer had handed it over to me.
    I pulled the mailer closer and turned it over. There was a tag at one end of the padded envelope and I tore the strip open along the length. Inside were medical charts for three patients: Terrence Dace, Charles Farmer, and a man named Sebastian Glenn. All three charts were fat with lab work, doctor’s notes, and medical reports. How had Dace managed to get his hands on them?
    I took the bundle upstairs with me. I stood in the loft trying to think where I might stash the contents for safekeeping. I cleared the footlocker at the near end of my bed, removing a pile of heavy sweaters to make room for it. I closed the trunk and placed the stack of sweaters on top. Maybe Dandy would have some idea what Dace had in mind.
    In the meantime, I went through my usual routine: shower, shampoo, and a change of clothes. Dietz and I were doing okay and I was happy with the pace we’d set. I wasn’t prepared to jump back into the relationship without getting my bearings first. For now, there was a blank space between us, packed with all of the moments that had flown by while we were apart. On prior occasions, when we’d come together after a separation, there was this same period of adjustment. Last round, I’d been cranky at first, only gradually letting down my guard. This time I was less resistant, but the chemistry was still on hold.
    The phone rang as I was coming down the stairs. I picked up on the second ring to find Dietz on the line.
    “Kink in the works. I just got a call from Nick. He’s on his way down from San Francisco.”
    “What’s going on?”
    “He says he’s taking time off work, but that’s as much as I know. He called from the road and said he’d explain the rest when he gets here.”
    “Well, that’s worrisome.”
    “Remains to be seen. He sounded fine.”
    “What time’s he getting in?”
    “Depends on where he was when he called. The city’s a six-hour drive, so I’m guessing ten at the earliest.”
    “If you want to take a rain check on dinner, it’s fine with me.”
    “Let’s don’t do that. Nick’s a big boy. If he gets in while I’m out, he can pick up a key and make himself at home. I’ll leave word for him at the desk.”
    “Here’s another plan. Why don’t I come over to the hotel and we can order room service? That way if he gets in, you’ll be on the premises.”
    “Not a bad idea, but it’s up to you.”
    “We can go out another night.”
    “You sure you don’t mind?”
    “Not a bit,” I said.
    “Great. I’ll see you shortly.”
    I hung up, found my jacket, and shrugged myself into it. I grabbed my shoulder bag and fished out my car keys, realizing as I stepped out the door how dark and chilly it was. A trip to his hotel was a bad idea. I was tired and I really didn’t feel like driving across town. I stopped in my tracks, wondering how tacky it would be if I called and begged off. I’d spent much of the day with him and I’d have been happy with a stretch of time on my own. I stood there, wishing I hadn’t piped up. Me and my big mouth. I should have done us both a favor and let him off the hook. Now, since I was already in motion, it felt easier to proceed to my car. I unlocked the Mustang and slid under the wheel. I sat for another brief interlude, conflicted and out of sorts. Finally, I turned the key in the ignition and pulled away from the curb. I’d have one glass of wine and a quick bite to eat and then I’d come home. Nick was probably more in need of his