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“Sure. That sounds good.”
He brushed his lips with mine, and then left.
***
I should’ve been paying Minnie this time. At a minimum we should’ve called it even. We’d finished our session, but I’d stayed to chat while doing a little first aid.
The blisters on her fingers from her incessant checking that the front door was locked and the stove was off had opened, and I was concerned that they might get infected. Snapping on rubber gloves, I cleaned out the raw wounds and wrapped her fingers as we chatted away about my life. I’d told her all about Hunter over the last two months.
“There are only three reasons a man is noncommittal. Either he’s a fisherman, a milkman, or a priest.”
I glanced up at her. “You’re going to have to explain that one.”
“A fisherman knows there are plenty of fish in the sea, and he doesn’t want to spend his life eating cod when there’s tuna and striped bass that he still hasn’t tasted yet.”
I wasn’t sure if Minnie realized her euphemism for a player was rather gross—eating fish. But I got her point.
“I really don’t think that’s Hunter’s issue. Although maybe I just don’t want to believe he’s like that. My gut says it has nothing to do with needing to move on to the next woman.”
“Alright. Then maybe he’s a milkman. Good woman at home, and yet keeps going out to make deliveries to unsuspecting housewives.”
I laughed. “I don’t think that’s possible. I’ve been to his house, and there’s no sign of a woman. Plus, Derek and Anna would know if he had a serious relationship.”
“Then he’s a priest.”
I cut the tape on the last finger I’d wrapped, and smoothed it down as gently as possible. “He’s definitely not a priest.”
“I didn’t mean he doesn’t like a little no-pants dance. A priest is someone who sacrifices for the benefit of others,” Minnie said. “They’ll give up their own happiness so the people in their flock don’t get hurt.”
Hmmm. “But why? What could he possibly be trying to protect me from?”
“He knows your story. Maybe he’s afraid to let you down, or that he’s not good enough for you.”
I scoffed at the last part. “Hunter Delucia has more confidence in his little pinky than I do in my entire body.”
“Sometimes confidence is worn like a mask to shield people from seeing insecurities.”
“I suppose. I just…that doesn’t seem to fit either.”
“Maybe the last woman broke his heart. Has he ever had a serious relationship before?”
“Once.”
“Did he tell you what happened?”
“No. He actually gave a really vague response, and I have no clue why things ended.”
Minnie lifted her newly wrapped fingers and wiggled them around. “Might want to see if you can get more information about that.”
***
After Izzy went to bed, I curled up with a cup of tea and picked up my cell. It was almost eleven in New York, but still only eight in California. I’d thought all afternoon about my conversation with Minnie and decided going straight to the tightlipped source wouldn’t be half as productive as calling my best friend.
“Hey,” Anna said. “It’s the fairy godmother.”
I smiled. “You know, when I was little, I always imagined my fairy godmother looked like Stevie Nicks.”
“I think Stevie Nicks would be a kick-ass godmother. Maybe I should see if she’s available instead. Pretty sure she lives in L.A. Then again, who knows, I might have you here after all. Derek said you and Hunter were all kissy face.”
