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“Bread’s by the toaster. You mind putting two slices in?”
“I think I can handle that,” I said, getting up. “Then I can pretend I actually helped.” I untwisted the tie holding the plastic bread bag closed. “Colt?”
“Yeah?”
“Why didn’t you go to college?”
“Because I wanted to work with my hands, just like Zip said.”
“You really expect me to buy that explanation?”
“Everyone else does.” He fished out an egg from the pot of water and gently slid it onto a plate.
“I don’t think everyone else knows the real you. I think you hide it.”
“Thought your almost degree was in accounting, not psych.” His tone had hardened and I knew I’d struck a nerve.
I took a deep breath and powered through. “I saw the photos of you on the wall. It doesn’t take a genius to see the evolution of your smile. I thought I was closed off, but you—you’re something else.”
“Why do you care so much?” he demanded. “You don’t know me. You’re just crashing here until you can get your truck and get out of here, remember?”
I recognized insurmountable walls. I had a fortress of my own. But there was something about Colt…
His curt attitude masked a great pain.
So I waited, not rising to the bait, not taking his tone or accusations personally. It would’ve been easier to let it go. To walk away and let him suffer in his own silence. But I thought of Joni and Zip; both had said something about Colt acting differently around me. Maybe they’d been trying to open him up for years, and he’d remained steadfastly clammed shut.
The toast popped and he grabbed the two slices and settled them on the plates.
“It was Dad,” he finally said.
“His death?”
“No. I mean, yeah, partly. But it’s what happened before he died. He found out he had lung cancer, right? Except his was treatable. His case wasn’t terminal.”
I looked at him.
His brown eyes bored into mine as he waited for me to put the puzzle pieces together.
“Wait,” I said slowly. “Are you telling me your dadrefusedtreatment? Treatment that would’ve saved his life?”
He nodded, his jaw clenched.
“Does Joni know?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. We’ve never talked about it. Not directly.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Seriously? That’s a pretty big thing not to have discussed.”
“Thanks for your opinion on the matter. I definitely remembered asking for it.”
“Well, why did you tell me, then?” I asked in exasperation.
“Because you are relentless,” he replied.
I pointed my fork at him. “No one else challenges you, do they? Mr. Biker President with a fierce scowl and a mean disposition. You’ve been left alone for too long. You’ve gotten comfortable in your isolation and you didn’t expect anyone to have the wherewithal to get in your shit.”
“You wanna talk about getting in someone’s shit?” He leaned over so his face was close to mine. “You’ve been here one day, Mia. And you’ve got a lot of opinions about how things are. You don’t know shit.”
