No Good Deed

FOUR

"Deanna Vines," the woman introduced herself, extending an open hand. Her mouth turned upward in a half smile, deepening the creases that anchored her eyes and cheeks. Chunky highlights streaked her hair and aged her beyond her years.

Cam made to extract the phone from the cross-body bag that straddled her shoulder, but realized that Deanna had other intentions.

"Please, sit! I have to thank you somehow. A coffee is the least I can do."

Before Cam could object, Deanna had already occupied a chair at an isolated food-court table. A single, modern bulb illuminated the space, reminding Cam of one of those old film noir movies Dad loved so much. "Oh, okay..."

She placed the lost phone face-down on the table, and Deanna snatched it up with almost unnerving dexterity. The device disappeared in her bag just as a somber server dressed in all black passed by to take their order: a Sprite for Cam, and a plain black coffee for Deanna.

"You have no idea how grateful I am," Deanna fawned.

"Don't mention it. I hope someone would do the same for me." Cam blinked into the soda that fizzed before her. She took a zealous sip that resulted in brain freeze and set it back down. She didn't know what to do with her hands.

Deanna leaned in, and a thick wave of lavender wafted in Cam's direction. Instinctively, she scooted back ever so slightly. "You didn't happen to see any of the messages on the phone, did you?" Deanna asked with a conspiratorial grin.

"Of course not," cam blurted out. What was this woman's deal?

Deanna laughed and relaxed a bit in her seat. "Of course I'm only kidding. It's actually my daughter's phone. Janna." Her eyes flicked from the table, to Cam, to a table in the distance, back to Cam. "She's uh, she's about your age." This time, she smiled congenially.

"Oh, okay," Cam responded. She didn't know what to say, and the silence was growing more and more uncomfortable by the second. She felt as if she had engaged in a game of chess without knowing the rules.

What next? The gap that followed dragged on; it was even more prolonged than the awkward gaps with Karla. Thinking spontaneously, she pulled out her own phone, careful not to reveal the screen to her new acquaintance. "My dad is texting," she invented. "I've got to get going."

"Your dad?" The tone was inquisitive, but Cam didn't understand Deanna's line of questioning.

"Uh, yeah. Thanks for the coffee!" As Cam secured her bag and turned to leave, Deanna cleared her throat. "You remind me so much of my daughter. Maybe we can all meet for coffee again."

For reasons unknown, and despite the warmth of the cozy face in summertime, goosebumps populated Cam's bare forearms. She forced a non-committal smile and turned to leave.

If she had turned to look over her shoulder, she would have seen Deanna's face melt into a frown, a wicked glint in her eye.