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“Thank you,” he said quietly. “And thanks for worrying about my mom. If it weren’t for you, I’d have already been three states away.”
She nodded. “What are you going to do?”
He sighed and rubbed a hand over his eyes. “I don’t know.”
Sophie tipped her head toward the couch without even thinking about it. “Want a beer?”
“Fuck yes.”
She handed the kitten over and went to the fridge to get them both beers. Then she grabbed two more. She didn’t know about him, but she thought she might down her first in one long draw. Her mouth watered at the thought.
“Thanks,” he said when she handed him a beer. The kitten curled up on his lap. Sophie wished she could forget everything else and do the same.
“I need to apologize,” she said. “For the other night. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”
“I deserved it.”
“No. You were right. I talked to my dad. He doesn’t need me, he just thought I needed him. I guess I did.” She finally tasted her beer, hoping to swallow her welling tears away. By the time she was halfway through the beer, she felt better.
Alex’s hand touched her knee. “I shouldn’t have said it the way I did. I’m not very good at helping out. But I guess you know that.”
“You’re helping your mom right now.”
He shook his head. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“That doesn’t matter. You’re trying. And you were trying the othe
r night. I just didn’t want to hear it.”
“So we were both right? Just not about ourselves?”
She smiled. “Maybe that’s how most people are.”
“Most fucked-up people anyway.”
He opened his second beer and finally relaxed into the couch, his head dropping back, eyes closing.
“What’s going to happen with your mom? Will she be okay?” Sophie asked.
“I think so. She’s already doing better today with some hydration and supplements. But she’s got arthritis, too. I think that’s why she stopped using the second level of her house. The first floor is a mess.”
“But she’ll get better?”
“Yes. She’ll be able to go home in a few days. I don’t know what will happen then. Her place needs work.”
She watched him. Studying the blunt eyelashes against his cheek, and the shape of his nearly smooth skull, and his wide mouth. “When are you leaving?” she asked, hating the way her voice went rough at the idea.
“I don’t know,” he rasped. “I have to be in Alaska in three weeks. I can’t stay.”
“You could stay for a little while.”
His eyes opened. He turned his head to watch her, but didn’t say a word.
“You could just help until she’s better.”
He still didn’t say anything, and Sophie felt like squirming. Could he hear the selfish thread wound into her words? That she wanted him to stay? Even if he didn’t want to?
He sat up a little and took a swig from his beer, then he kept his eyes on the bottle. “I don’t know them, Sophie.”
