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My mom was trusting like that. How she ever ended up with my father I’ll never understand. The two of them were complete opposites. Maybe that’s what he wanted. Someone completely different than himself to remind him that good people do exist. But then why didn’t he love her? I just met Sage and already feel something for her, so how could my dad be with my mom all those years and not love her?
Sage moves in her sleep and must’ve hit the remote because the TV suddenly blares so loud it wakes her.
She quickly sits up, searching for the remote. “What happened?”
“I got it.” I get up and grab the remote, which fell on the floor when she moved. I turn the volume down on the TV.
“Was I asleep?” she asks, looking up at me. Her eyes are droopy and her hair’s a mess. Damn, she’s adorable.
“Yeah. Here.” I hand her the remote. “I should get going.”
She checks the clock on the wall. It’s a wooden clock carved in the shape of a tree that has birds on the hands, pointing to the time.
“It’s after ten?” She stands up. “I didn’t know it was so late.”
“Yeah. So I guess I’ll see you around. Thanks again for dinner.”
She laughs. “Sorry I couldn’t give you anything better than grilled cheese.”
“It was great. Best dinner I’ve had in a long time.”
It’s true. Sometimes simple is better. After my mom died, my father hired a chef to make dinner every night. The guy would only make what my dad told him to, which was always gourmet shit that looked better than it tasted. When my mom made fancy meals, they actually tasted good so I’m not sure why this chef couldn’t do the same. And since he was afraid of my dad, he wouldn’t make what my brother and I asked him to, like burgers or hotdogs.
“That’s pretty sad,” Sage says, and for a moment I panic, wondering if I just said what I was thinking out loud. I relax when I realize she was referring to my comment about dinner, not my mom. “I thought they had decent restaurants in L.A.”
I make a mental note to do some research on L.A. I’ve been there a few times but never lived there so I really need to learn more about it in case people ask me about it.
“They have a few decent places but so many people there are on some kind of diet that it’s hard to find a restaurant that serves real food. Cheese is like the devil out there.”
She laughs. “I doubt that. California is a dairy state, isn’t it?”
Is it?Hell, I don’t know. She seems to know more about the state than I do.
“Before you go, would you mind helping me with this?” She points to the window in front of her. “I can’t get it closed. It’s stuck.”
“Why don’t you leave it open? Let the place air out all night.”
“I would, but I won’t sleep knowing the windows are open. It’s too dangerous.”
So she’s cautious in some ways, but not when it comes to me. I wonder why she trusts me so much? And why I trust her? I told myself I’d live like a hermit in this town, hiding away in that house and never going out. Yet here I am, only my second night here, and I’m hanging out with my neighbor and have revealed more about myself than I wanted to.
“What if I stayed?” I ask, despite knowing it’s a bad idea.
“Stayed where?”
“Here.” I look around. “You have a sleeping bag? I could sleep on the floor.”
“Why would you stay?”
“So you could keep the windows open. Air the place out.”
“You’d really do that?”
“Sure. Why not? Your floor’s probably more comfortable than Miller’s bed. The thing’s gotta be at least thirty years old. It sinks so low in the middle I almost couldn’t get out of it this morning.”
“Maybe you should buy a new mattress. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”
“Maybe I will.” I walk over to her and open the window she was trying to close. “What do you think?”
