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“We think you need a break.” Davis tells me. He speaks slowly and calmly. Davis does not sound like himself. He doesn’t sound like anyone I know.
“Why don’t you take a trip?” Johnny says, and it’s not really a question. He makes that much clear with his sharp tone. “This house is taking its toll on you.”
“It makes sense you would say that, seeing as you’re just dying to sell it out from under me.”
“I’m not the bad guy, Ruth.” Johnny looks down at the table. “When’s the last time you took a day off?”
“People around town are starting to talk,” Davis says.
“How is that anything new? That’s all anyone around here ever does. They talk. And nothing changes. It’s called living in a small town. It’s a fishbowl.”
“A vacation might do you good,” Ashley says. “I know it has me. You never know. Getting out of the fishbowl could be cleansing for the soul.”
I glare at her for a quick beat. “Go fuck yourself.”
Both Johnny and Davis shake their heads. I know it isn’t exactly lady like to speak that way. I’ve tasted enough soap in my lifetime to know. People in this town gossip about my outbursts. But I don’t care. This woman walks into my house, walks in from nowhere, and thinks she knows what’s best for me. That’s cute.
“Don’t be rude,” Davis says. “Ashley’s just trying to help.”
“I said what I said. I have zero remorse.”
My gaze flits between Davis and Johnny. “And who came up with this grand idea, anyway? Her? It couldn’t have been you two, that’s for sure. It’s not like you’re going to step up to the plate and take care of things around here. Obviously, this place doesn’t just run itself. But you wouldn’t know that, given either of you hardly lift a finger.”
Johnny folds his hands and places them on the table. It looks like he’s praying and it reminds me of so many dinners we’ve had in years past. “We could always put selling back on the table.”
I sensed this coming, but that doesn’t mean it stings any less. They’ve been bringing the subject up more and more lately.
“Ashley thinks she might have found a buyer,” Davis says.
“Fuck Ashley. And fuck her buyer.”
“I won’t allow you to speak to my fiancée that way, Ruth.”
“Well then, fuck you, too.” Then, I turn to her. “You know, it’s funny. Everything you touch in this town ends up dead or worse.”
She looks at me and swallows hard. “What’s worse than dead?”
“If you’re not careful you might just find out.”
“Ruth, don’t threaten people. Ashley is a guest. Could you try to maybe be a little less offensive?” Johnny says. He seems almost serious. But I can tell he’s mocking the situation. My older brother always has loved a good cat fight. Even better if he’s the source. I can also tell that he’s envious of Davis, and that is doing me no favors.
“Is that what she is?” I ask. “A guest? No, it can’t be.”
Davis pushes away from the table.
“Because guests—” I say. “They pay their way. They bring something to the table. Her, she’s done nothing but cause trouble. And”—I motion around the kitchen— “all on the trust’s dime.”
“See?” She looks at Davis. “This is what I’m talking about. She’s abusive.”
“Ashley is right. We’ve planned sort of an intervention here,” Davis says. “I don’t think you should make things worse for yourself.”
I walk over to the door and hold it open. “Get out.”
“Ruth,” Johnny and Davis say at the same time. “Calm down.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down!”
“This,” Ashley says, tossing up her hands. “This is what I’m talking about.”
