Chapter Seventeen
They sat on Ira’s back deck. Beyond a wide expanse of lawn was thick, lush forest. The wind blew lightly making the leaves shimmer. “I love the sound of the wind in the leaves,” Honey said with a sigh. “There’s an enormous poplar right outside my bedroom window, but it isn’t the same.” She’d calmed down a bit since he took his jab at her career choice. It had been difficult to let her anger go.
“Ever considered moving to the country?” Ira sipped his iced tea.
“I’d probably enjoy a more rural life. Not too far into the sticks. I’d still need to be in town for work. I need people.” More than she ever let on. People were her safety net.
“Why is that?” Ira asked.
She sensed the curiosity in his words, but felt no pressure from him to respond. She considered the question as she stared across his lawn. “My folks died in a car accident when I was in university. I was devastated. I had no siblings; all my grandparents were long gone. I’ve never felt to totally alone in my life. I had friends, but it’s not the same thing as family.” She paused and looked around the yard.
“You really need some perennials out here to brighten the place up. Poppies, hollyhocks, Clematis. Anything with color.”
“Agreed.” He didn’t add anything else.
“Anyway. I was waitressing at the time. Being around people soothes my jagged nerves. Crazy, right? Most people are the exact opposite. But I’ve learned to listen to my brain. If my heart wants people, my heart gets people. Although I have to admit total silence at night would be a blessing. Not that Coyote Creek is noisy.”
“There’s an ever-present low-level hum. It’s like your mind can sense everyone around you,” Ira responded with startling understanding. “I didn’t notice it when I lived in the city. But when I got to town, I noticed how much quieter it was. Moving out here was a surprise.”
“How so?”
“It’s totally quiet. The hum is gone. But it’s also incredibly noisy. I can hear the train and it runs nearly three miles from here. Coyotes howl all night. The owls hoot. Last week, there was a bear in my garbage.”
“Really, in the garbage?” She looked around, half expecting to see a bear watching them.
“I only ever saw him once. Now, the cans are in a shed I built behind the garage. Haven’t seen him since. It’s weird how the night out here is so quiet, and so loud all at once.”
“It sounds fabulous. I always wanted to go camping in the woods and I never had the chance. Living out here would be incredible.”
“It really is. I’m glad I made the move. I’ve got isolation and I’m close to town. Bill loves it out here.” He waved toward the black and white dog running wild circles on the lawn, chasing nothing.
They watched him in silence for a few minutes. He ran toward a wooden play structure. The small house on stilts with ladder up and slide down had a covered box under it. Sandbox, maybe. The house had arms stretching out left and right. Three swings dangled from each arm. Bill raced toward the swing and leapt over one of the seats. He ran toward the woods. Stopped at the tree line, barked twice and raced back to the deck to slurp noisily from his water bowl. He dropped to his belly at Ira’s feet, panting heavily.
“I swear he’s grinning at me.” Ira scrubbed the dog’s head with his fingertips.
“He looks like he’s grinning. Obviously, he loves it here. I’m glad you adopted him.”
“Me too.”
“So, swings? You planning a family?” Honey asked without looking at Ira. She couldn’t face it if he didn’t want kids. She wanted a large family. She’d always longed for a sister or two. Maybe even a brother.
“Honestly? I don’t know.”
She peeked at him. He was staring across the yard, but she could tell he wasn’t seeing anything tangible.
“What do you mean you don’t know?” She shifted lower in her padded deck chair, and set her feet on the matching green ottoman.
“Sometimes. I’d love to have a family. But when I’m around the Flints it’s so crazy chaotic. In a good way. The weird dynamic between everyone confuses me. Everyone nags everyone else. They meddle and tease. But they also support and help each other out.”
“Sounds like the perfect family to me.” It was her dream. A house in the country. Pets. Kids. A big family to call her own. “I sense there’s more going on in your head.”
After a long tense pause, he responded, his voice pitched low, barely over a whisper. “But I’ve done things. Ugly things. I don’t deserve a family. I’ve killed people. What if I did something awful to my family? What if I passed on the killing gene?”
Wow. That was a pile of baggage.It must be so difficult to deal with thoughts like his on a regular basis.She realized at once even though his fears were baggage, they were also bull crap. She didn’t judge him harshly for the mistaken idea, she felt sorry for him. She understood the root of his fears. How tragic to think you were a monster? Especially when he was nothing of the sort and was, in fact, the opposite.
“You didn’t enjoy killing. You did what you were ordered to. That’s not something you can pass on. Plus, I’ve watched you with kids. Kids you don’t even know. You’re kind and generous. I think you’d make a great dad.” Sure, he tended toward serious, but he was great with children, and old people. She’d seen him carrying old ladies’ groceries more than once.
“Do you like the Flint kids?” she asked.
