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“Retreat into yourself?” she supplied.
“Yeah. That,” he agreed. “I’ll also reiterate that I don’t want to screw your life up. If we decide to…hang out, I have to warn you that friendship is as far as things can go. There can’t be any girlfriend/boyfriend things going on between us. Ever. And if I hold your hand, it’s simply for comfort. No other reason. I won’t…kiss you or hug you, and we certainly won’t be, uh, imagining a different kind of future together. If that’s something you can live with…” He trailed off, his voice gruff and his face troubled.
Pixie took only a short second before responding. She was a snap-decision kind of girl. “Done. Because that’s all I’m looking for from you, anyway,” she told him. “A friend with whom I feel safe to go out and have some fun.”
It looked like her words had an impact. He relaxed enough to eat a few more bites.
“I’ve already told you I don’t trust easily,” Pixie continued. “And the thought of having…” Dare she say it? She cleared her throat. “…any kind of intimacy with a man? That’s the farthest thing from my mind. My experience with Skeeter in that department isn’t the stuff of good memories. So if you’re worried I might try to jump your bones, don’t be. I’m not asking for anything other than what you’ve offered.”
Doug blinked. Twice. Then gave her a tentative smile before extending his hand over the table toward her. “Friends?” he asked.
“Friends,” she agreed, taking his proffered digits but making sure not to linger.
“Okay.” He seemed relieved. “But I promise Iwillbe talking to Will about you. I want to be the best friend that I can, and I don’t want to screw it up.”
Pixie regarded him evenly. “Do me a favor?”
“Sure,” he answered, with only the slightest bit of trepidation.
“Will you talk to me, too, when something bugs you, or when you don’t know how to act? I’m not going to judge you. I promise. And maybe I can help.”
Doug nodded. “I can try.”
“Good.” It was time to change the subject. “So, do you want to help me clean up, then we can find something to watch on TV?”
He grinned, a real smirk this time as he pointed at her plate. “You sure you want to lose that mountain before you head off to find the aliens?”
“Smart-ass,” she said, using her fork to smoosh down the pile. “Just answer the question.”
“I like movies, but I’m not much of a TV guy. Idolove to play cards, however. Game night at my uncle’s house was, and still is, a big thing.”
Pixie pondered. She was familiar with a lot of children’s games, since she encouraged her students to play during their down time, but as far as adult matches, and playing herself…
She tilted her head toward her bad arm. “Sorry, Doug. I, uh, can’t hold a hand of cards and play down at the same time without setting my other cards aside every time.” She screwed up her mouth. “It makes for a very long, boring game.” She’d tried it with the teacher’s at school on break, and had been found lacking.
He didn’t look put off. “What about something simple where the cards are in a pile in front of you so you can use your free hand to play?”
Now she wrinkled her nose. “Like War, you mean? That’s a little…young.”
He smiled again, and it was becoming addicting. “I was thinking more along the lines of Cross Crib.”
“Cross Crib?” She tipped her head. “I’ve never heard of that. I used to play cribbage with my grandmother before I lost the use of my hand. Is it anything like that?” She was all ears, now. Cardshadbeen a favorite of hers growing up; a way she’d bonded with her grandmother who’d been in an elderly care facility.
Doug was talking again. “The two are pretty much the same, but instead of using a board to peg, and the cards being in your hand, your cards are face down in a pile in front of you, and you build your plays on a table grid; you scoring vertically while I score horizontally. The points system is exactly the same as it is in cribbage.”
He went on to explain all the rules while they cleaned up together. And after she fed May and located a new, unused deck of cards, she was excited to try her luck.
Two hourslater Doug was actually laughing again. “Remind me never to bet money against you,” he chuckled. “You’ve won all but two games, and I feel like a real idiot, thinking I was going to have the advantage since I play every Sunday.”
“You play Cross Crib every Sunday?” Pixie marveled, sweeping up the cards with one hand and placing them in front of Doug so he could shuffle for her. He’d made that concession to her disability, seamlessly.
“Didn’t I mention game night at Uncle Frank’s?” He snorted. “Just because we’re older and I’ve moved out, doesn’t mean we don’t still get together for some healthy competition. The four of us; me, Uncle Frank, Aunt Suze, and my cousin Dieter convene every Sunday night. We have supper, then settle down to talk smack and play cards. Sometimes my friend Cisco joins us. Maybe you—”
He cut himself off.
Pixie took a deep breath. She wasn’t offended. Doug had clearly been about to offer, in the heat of the moment, that she join the standing party, but he’d quickly realized his mistake. She wouldn’t hold it against him. She was used to it.
“That’s okay, Doug. You don’t have to explain. I know it would be awkward having me there since I wouldn’t be able to play most of the games.” She wiggled the shoulder on her left side.
