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“Shane!”
“Maybe just once? For a Halloween party when you were eighteen? Work with me here.”
“Good God, it even infected cowboys in the wilds of Wyoming.”
“Hey, we had satellite dishes and VCRs. And active fantasy lives.”
Merry groaned. “No, I only dressed up as Princess Leia once, and that was the kick-ass rebel fighter Leia.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Figures,” she sighed, then shook her head in disgust. “Wait a minute. Have you ever seen Firefly?”
“No. Is that a Star Trek thing?”
“Star Wars,” she muttered. “And no. It’s a completely awesome sci-fi series that’s like an epic space Western. You have to watch it. Have to!”
“Okay.”
“Seriously. We’ll rent the first episode one night, okay? Please?”
Shane found himself grinning wildly at her, but told himself it was probably just the beer. “Let’s do that.”
He liked this girl. Really liked her, which settled the issue. He couldn’t touch her. And he definitely couldn’t sleep with her. Not unless he wanted to live with the sure chance that at some point in the future she’d hate his guts. Even without the complication of the lawsuit, it always ended the same for him.
He couldn’t commit. Women tried to accept that, but eventually they left and made clear that he was an asshole and an immature prick. He was. There was no denying his genes.
Shane dropped his head. “Next time, let’s do that.”
Reluctantly he stood and set his empty beer bottle down. “I’d better go. I’ve got an early start tomorrow, but I’ll try to get to Providence in the evening.”
“Don’t wear yourself out. I feel guilty enough as it is.”
“It’s not a problem,” he said. And the strange thing was…it wasn’t. His goal was to make sure that Providence was never anything more than its current state: a forgotten ghost town remembered only by a few old-timers. But somehow being out there with Merry was the most relaxing thing he did all day. Knowing she was close by, even when he couldn’t see her…he liked that. He’d like it even more if she came by and bothered him as much as he’d expected her to.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Merry.”
“Night, Shane.”
He closed the door behind him and waited to hear her lock it. Somehow the world was heavier out here, and the weight only got worse as he walked the few steps to his door.
Hearing the beep from his answering machine as soon as he stepped in, Shane grabbed the phone in resignation and called his mother.
“Mom, it’s late,” he said without greeting her. “I have to get up early tomorrow.”
“I know, hon, but it’s important.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Well, you know. As okay as it ever gets. But listen to this new story I found.”
“Just—” he interrupted, then paused to take a deep breath so he wouldn’t lose his temper with her. “Mom, please. It’s the internet. I’ve explained before that—”
“Yes, yes. You can’t believe everything you read on the internet. But that doesn’t mean some of it’s not true.”
He couldn’t argue with that, unfortunately. He couldn’t, but he’d tried plenty of times.
“Listen! ‘A sixty-five-year-old man whom locals in Guyana call The Gringo is rumored to be an American man who appeared without any identification in 1998, claiming to have no memory of who he was or where he’d come from. The man—’”
