“Me too,” said Alma pleadingly, as if trying to convince Rachel that it was true.
“What’s your favorite word that pisses other people off when you use it?” Rachel seemed to be testing Alma.
She thought about it for a minute. “Xi. It’s a letter in the Greek alphabet that’s in the Scrabble dictionary.”
Rachel’s eyes widened and she squeaked in pleasure. “I love you so much right now, Alma. I studied the Scrabble dictionary and came up with all sorts of little words that no one else knows. It pisses people off so much, but I’m always just like, ‘Go ahead and challenge me.’ They learn not to real quick.”
“True,” said Stephen. “I won’t play with her anymore.”
Rachel stepped toward Alma and took her hands. She had an oddly serious look on her face as she spoke. “Alma Harper, would you do me the honor of playing Scrabble with me tonight?”
Alma laughed. “I’d love to, as long as you promise not to take back all the stuff you bought me after I beat you.”
“Oh, those are big words, little girl,” said Rachel. “I haven’t lost a game of Scrabble in over a decade at least.”
“Lord have mercy,” said Stephen. “It’s like the dork circle is finally complete. My wife found her soul mate. I guess me and the guys will just have to break out the Xbox or something.”
“Oh yeah,” said Alma. “Which friend of Paul’s is coming along?”
“A big guy,” said Stephen as he held his hand well above his head, “named Jacker.”
“Oh, okay,” said Alma. She looked at Rachel and added, “You’ll like him. I only met him last night, but he’s a really nice guy.”
“Jacker is a weird name,” said Rachel.
“He’s into computers,” said Alma.
“He’s a cool guy,” said Stephen. “I feel bad about what happened with his girlfriend.”
“Why?” asked Alma. “What happened?”
Stephen looked like a deer caught in the headlights as he stared at Alma and Rachel. “I’ve said too much.” He made a zipper motion over his lips and tried to walk away.
“No, no, no,” said Rachel. “You have to tell us now. What happened?”
“Sorry, babe, I’m not one of your gossipy friends,” said Stephen. “If you want to know, you’ll have to ask him. It’s not my place to say.”
“Oh fine, be like that,” said Rachel. “How long until food’s ready?”
“It’s good to go. I was just waiting on you two.”
There was a knock at the back of the apartment and then a door opened down the hall. Jacker leaned his head inside, uncertain if it was appropriate for him to just walk in. “Hello?”
“Come on in,” said Stephen.
Jacker and Paul came in through the door on the opposite side of the apartment. Jacker saw Alma first, and put his hand over his heart as he stumbled backward, emphasizing his surprise. “Holy shit, Alma. You clean up well.”
Paul walked around his friend and was astonished by what he saw. He blinked his eyes and shook his head. “God damn, babe.”
Alma felt her ears burn as she blushed. She ran her hands through her hair and asked, “Do you like it? It’s not too short, is it?”
“Do I like it?” asked Paul. “Are you kidding? You look like a super model.”
“Stop it.”
“No, he’s right,” added Jacker. “You look,” he stopped in search of an appropriate descriptor, “stunning.”
Paul walked past his friend and came to stand before Alma. He put his hand on the side of her face and then gazed up and down at her. He was at a loss for words and could only smile. Alma never felt prettier in her entire life.
“You must be Jacker. I’m Rachel.” The strawberry blonde reporter was quick to introduce herself.
“Hello,” said Jacker as he shook her hand.
“Tell me what happened with your girlfriend,” said Rachel, unfettered by common restraint.
“Rachel, Jesus,” said Stephen, embarrassed.
“Sorry,” said Rachel. “I don’t like to beat around the bush with people. Stephen said you had something bad happen with your girlfriend, and I want to know what happened.”
“Normal people try to get to know someone before grilling them with questions like that,” said Stephen as he headed for the refrigerator to get a beer.
Rachel shrugged and walked hand in hand with Jacker toward the kitchen table. “Well, I’m not a normal girl. Here, sit down and talk to me.”
Jacker obeyed, although he looked uncomfortable.
“Now tell me what happened. I know a lot of pretty girls who are suckers for a guy with a broken heart. Trust me.”
Alma and Paul went to sit at the table with them as Stephen got everyone something to drink. The dining room, living room, and kitchen were all connected, but there was a thin, paper partition adorned with Japanese symbols that broke up the area. Paul tried, and nearly failed, to not knock over the decorative wall as he edged his way around the table.
Jacker splayed his hands out over the dark wood and tapped his fingers as he sighed. “It’s my fault, really. I’m as much to blame as she was.”
Paul grimaced and shook his head. “Bullshit.” He accepted a glass of beer from Stephen and Alma assumed that Paul had already taught the host how to properly pour their favorite beer because it had the perfect amount of head on it. “Don’t blame yourself for it. That bitch cheated on you, plain and simple.”
“Is that true?” asked Rachel.
Jacker nodded and then crossed his arms. “Yeah.” He was fidgeting, obviously uncomfortable with the conversation, but Rachel either didn’t notice or didn’t care. She was a consummate journalist, more interested in the details of the story than the ramifications of discussing it.
“Why do you think it’s your fault then?” asked Rachel.
“Because, I don’t know, I should’ve paid better attention to her, taken her out more; that kind of stuff.”
“But, she cheated on you, right?” asked Rachel.
“Yep, with the stock boy at her work,” said Jacker. “She’s a cashier down at the grocery store on Thirtieth and Boston.”
“If she’s the one that cheated, then she’s the one to blame,” said Alma.
She hadn’t meant it as a barb for Paul, but realized that it would be after she said it. Still though, she didn’t feel bad. He deserved to feel guilty for some of his past mistakes.
“All right,” said Stephen loud enough to end the conversation. “Let’s give the guy a break and focus on the next few days.” He set a glass of beer in front of Jacker.
Jacker tipped the glass in Stephen’s direction and said, “Thanks.” It was obvious that he was thankful for more than the beer.
Stephen sat down and leaned back until the top of his chair rested against the wall. “Let’s talk about Widowsfield.”
“No, no, no,” said Rachel. “Let’s save it for the show.”
Stephen let his chair drop back down and then crossed his arms. He nodded his head as if coming to the conclusion that his wife was right. “Okay, fine. But let’s at least go over the agenda.”
“Okay,” said Rachel.
“If we leave tomorrow morning we can get there before dark,” said Stephen. “I figure we should stay the night in Branson, which is about forty miles from Widowsfield. Then, on Monday morning, we’ll head out to the old Main Street. It’s a ghost town now. We can do some filming there, and get a bunch of b-roll, that’s just exterior shots that we’ll use to fill in places for the actual show. It’ll give us a chance to explore some of the more famous spots around town.”
“What spots are those?” asked Alma.