She drops the carrot on her plate and stares at it for a moment before picking up a celery stick then continues stirring the ranch dressing with it. I think she just needs something to do with her hands.
I remember telling myself the same thing, that no matter what, Mom was going to make it. I didn’t want to believe she could actually die. I also remember the day the doctor told us it was only a matter of time, that there was nothing more they could do. Ash was a mess and it was the only time I’d ever seen Elsie cry. I was trying to be strong for both of them, but I wasn’t doing a very good job of it. Knowing my mother’s battle was coming to an end was a lot to deal with.
I reach over and gently rest my hand on her arm. “I’m so sorry. I know what you’re going through, and it sucks.”
She looks directly into my eyes, and her face softens. “Yeah, it does suck. People who have never gone through anything like this don’t understand.”
As much as I enjoy the warmth of her soft skin, I bring my hand back and study her for a moment. You never know what people are going through. She appeared to be a carefree, beautiful woman who, I’m sure, just needed a short break to catch her breath. That’s probably how she ended up here. If I had to venture a guess, her mother probably set it up and insisted she come to get some much-needed rest. Our mother did the same kinds of things.
“They don’t understand, yet they always offer advice,” I add. “Well-meaning people would encourage me to not give up hope because a miracle could come at any time. I was so sick of theirunrealistic optimism.”
“And everyone feels sorry for you,” she says gripping the celery stick like it offended her. “I hate that.”
A slight gleam is returning to her eyes, probably because someone else understands. “I did, too, but what can you do? It’s just how people act. We all do.”
“I know, but it doesn’t make things any easier. I just wish my brothers would help.”
“Are they working a lot?”
“They’re drinking and fishing a lot. My dad owns a roofing business, if you can call it a business. He spends most of his time at the casino playing poker. When my brothers should be roofing, they’re at the gravel pit fishing and getting drunk.” She drops the celery stick in the bowl and slouches in her chair with her arms crossed over her chest. Suddenly her brows scrunch together the same way Elsie’s do when she’s wondering if she could get away with murdering me and Ash for having done something she deemed unforgivable. “Before you suggest it might be their way of coping,” she adds as if reading my mind, “nothing has changed. They were doing the same thing before our mother had cancer. The only difference is, I wasn’t living there, so it didn’t bother me, at least not as much.”
“It sounds like a terrible situation. If I learned anything from our mother’s situation, it’s that you can’t worry about everything all at once. You have to learn to tackle one thing at time and remember you have limits. You can’t fix what you can’t fix. It’s one day at a time, right?”
“Yeah,” she says nodding thoughtfully. “One day at a time.”
I think maybe it’s a good time to change the subject. “How long are you here for?”
“We leave first thing Monday morning. You?”
“I guess it depends on how things go with the film crew.” Instinctively I check my watch again. “If they haven’t come by now, my guess is it won’t happen until sometime tomorrow. That means we’ll probably leave tomorrow night, maybe Sunday at the latest. Either way, I need to get my sorry ass to LA for the event Elsie set up for us.”
“What kind of event?”
“We’re supposed to show a bunch of kids how to do outdoor stuff.”
Her eyes light up. “Kids? That sounds fun.”
I can’t keep from smiling just thinking about it. “It will be, actually. I love kids.” Then, without thinking, I blurt, “If I’m lucky, I’ll have a couple of my own someday.”
As soon as the words come out, I regret it. Why would I tell her something like that? I never talk about my hopes and dreams, not with anyone, so why now? Maybe it’s her. She’s been so easy to talk to, and even though I know nothing about her, I already feel like I can tell her anything. Strange, I’ve never felt that way with a woman. Even after dating Veronica for a while, I never mentioned wanting to be a dad someday. Blondie is so different.
I look up only to realize she’s glaring at me like… I don’t, like maybe I shared too much.
“Really?” she says. “You want kids?”
I’m taken aback by the question, or rather, how she’s asking it, like it’s a big surprise. Maybe it wasn’t as cringy as I thought. “Yeah, of course I want kids. Why? You don’t?”
I can’t read her blank expression, but something tells me I hit a nerve.
She’s playing with hernapkin now, staring at it like it’s a window to the past. “Until a few months ago, it’s all I thought about.”
Her voice trails off. Clearly this whole thing with kids is a sensitive subject. Should I say something encouraging? What? For all I know, she just found out she’s not able to have kids?
Finally, her gaze lifts to mine and I’m guessing there’s a story behind those sad eyes. “I love kids,” she says, gripping her napkin. “But it’s… it’s just not worth it. You know, all the head games and bullshit that comes with dating. You think you know someone only to find out you don’t.”
Ah, I see what’s happening. “Sounds like you’ve had the wrong kinds of relationships.”
Her brows shoot up into high arches with a tiny gasp, and I have no idea why. The same thing happened out at the camp when I mentioned she had been gone for a while, only this is different, maybe worse. It’s starting to feel like I’m walking through a minefield and one misstep triggers her. If I had to guess, some guy hurt her, and from the looks of it, pretty bad.
