Page 80 of Waste of Worth

Sighing, he let his leg drop off the dock and leaned back, using his hands to keep him upright. He surveyed the peaceful lake, taking in the two other properties he could see from his position on the other side of the pond. It was unlikely whoever owned the places—if they were even home—could see his position without binoculars. It had been the one sense of relief he had when Karen had wanted to take the boat out the day before.

It wasn’t like Dino could refuse her.

It was a weekend for her, after all.

Well, for them.

Frankly, Dino had made a far greater effort to ensure Karen was happy and had all the time in the world to do whatever she wanted the past two days and evenings. And she had gotten to do whatever she asked of him, from taking the boat out, hiking through the trails, taking pictures of this or that, and then more of that again.

He never complained.

He didn’t have a reason to.

Seeing her beam with every ‘yes’ he gave only made him feel lighter.

Why wouldn’t he want to feel lighter when all he ever seemed to feel on a good day was weighed down?

Peering out at the lake once more, Dino was reminded that this was really the first time he had taken any sort of moment to fully enjoy what this place had to offer. Previously when he’d come down, he hadn’t even bothered to ask the groundskeeper to pull the sheets off the furniture. Dino was lucky if he bothered to drag himself beyond the wood shed.

Karen hadn’t given him much of a choice this time, and he hadn’t minded following along to feed her whims about whatever adventure she wanted to try.

He’d be back soon, he knew.

With Karen, of course.

Dino grabbed his coffee cup sitting beside him on the dock and lifted it for a sip, taking in the lukewarm, bitter liquid. He’d been up before dawn—not because he couldn’t sleep, as he had slept quite well—and quickly got bored with wandering the house.

He thought it would be selfish to wake Karen from her dreams because he couldn’t amuse himself while he was alone.

Strange as that is, he thought.

Dino had never minded being alone before, and certainly had no problem with keeping himself company. Yet, whenever he was with Karen, his entire outlook seemed to change and the very last thing he wanted was to be left to his own devices. She was far more interesting, anyway.

The gentle sound of a camera’s shutter going click-click-click behind him had Dino resting his cup back to the dock as he glanced over his shoulder. He found Karen standing at the very end of the dock, her camera raised and shielding most of her face as she took another round of shots. For a second, he thought she was taking pictures of the lake.

It took him far too long to realize she was actually taking pictures of him.

“I’m not a very good subject,” Dino said.

He didn’t smile very often, and he didn’t perform.

Karen never lowered the camera as she came closer. “You’re a perfect subject—haunted, alive, beautiful, and real. What more could I ask for?”

Dino swallowed the thickness building in his throat, and turned back to face the lake. He could still hear Karen’s camera clicking wildly as she continued taking his picture. He was so accustomed to staying out of the limelight that even something like a photograph felt strange.

Still, he let her take the pictures.

Whatever made her happy.

Soon, Karen was at his side, her camera lowered as she too stared out over the lake. He took her in from the corners of his eyes, the swell of her hips under tiny, khaki shorts and the dip in her waste accentuated by the crop-top with a fringe bottom. She was always so professional at the restaurant, dressing for her job, the establishment, and the position she carried. Even when she was home alone, she dressed comfortably, but modestly.

Here, Dino had gotten to see a bit more of Karen in a different element.

He liked to think it was probably an element she was more comfortable in.

“I’m going to miss it here,” she said.

Dino nodded his agreement. “But we’ll come back.”