“I suppose I am,” he said slowly. “I get like this sometimes. Not my best quality, but it’s part of who I am.”
“One thing I’m not clear about. You’re aware that your essay has caused trouble for your agent and publisher.”
He nodded. “Which I feel bad about. I didn’t anticipate it stirring things up as much as it did.”
“If you end up telling the world that your essay is right, won’t that cause them even more trouble?”
“If that’s where I land, then I’ll give my team advance notice.”
“Will advance notice be enough?”
He shrugged. “They’re smart people. They know me and their business. I’m sure they already have a Plan B and Plan C in the works.”
“You seem dead set on being stubborn.”
“Only if I’m right.”
“Do you think you’re right?”
He regarded her for a long moment. “Do you think I’m wrong?”
Of course I think you’re wrong, she almost said. Irritation coursed through her, surprising her.
“It’s getting chilly,” she said abruptly. “We need to get inside.”
Without waiting for him to agree, she headed into the hardware store, her irritation —with him? herself? both of them? — growing. As expected, the place was packed with shoppers. As she squeezed past the line at the sales counter, her friend Ted, the store’s owner, gave her a quick nod before returning his attention to the customer he was ringing up.
“The decorations are this way,” she said to Daniel, who’d caught up. Squeezing past customers, she made her way to the store’s home-decor aisle. “Here we go,” she said briskly. “Lots of options to choose from.”
“Penny,” Daniel began.
“We’ll want lights,” she said, ignoring him. “And tinsel —lots of tinsel. And at least a few boxes of ornaments.”
“Penny,” Daniel said again.
Despite the irritation still pulsing through her,she reluctantly turned her attention back to him.
“Yes?” she said.
“You think I’m wrong,” he said, his voice level, his gaze serious.
“Oh, very much so,” she said immediately, the words leaping out of her before she could stop them.
He didn’t seem surprised to hear her say that — though she was. She’d had every intention of not engaging with him on the topic, yet here she was, jumping in.
Is that why I’m so irritated right now?she thought.Because I’ve allowed myself to get drawn in?
“Tell me why I’m wrong,” he said.
She took a deep breath, willing herself to calm down. “Okay,” she said, as much to herself as to him. “Fine. If your essay is, as Ed and Ike said, the ‘opening salvo’ of an ongoing campaign against my favorite holiday, then yes, your essay is very wrong.”
“I’d like to hear why,” he said. “Your opinion matters to me.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Why does my opinion matter to you?”
“I care about what you think.”
For the first time today, she detected a hint of nervousness in his expression.
