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I cock a black brow at her.
“Gets kind of lonely, doesn’t it? Farm life.”
“Yeah, at times,” Darcy murmurs, looking a bit sad all of a sudden.
I reach for a biscuit and slather it with butter. “There are times when I’m surrounded by folks, though, and that can also be real lonely.”
“The last time I was surrounded by folks was back in high school,” Darcy laughs. “So I’ll take your word for it.”
We smile at each other and enjoy the last bites of dinner. Once she finishes hers, Darcy rises to start putting dishes and pans into the sink.
“I can help. Here – ” I start to get up, but the young woman practically pushes me back into my chair.
“No, no. I’ve got it. You’re injured, so just relax.”
When I start to protest again, she holds a finger to my lips. “Not another word.” We’re both clearly a little surprised by the bold move, and Darcy quickly retreats to clean up our meal.
Part of me is offended by her lack of desire for help, but I’m also worn out, feeling better after the delicious dinner but still weaker than I’d prefer.
Plus, the view ain’t so bad.
Sitting at the table affords me a good view of Darcy’s figure. I smile appreciatively as she moves around the kitchen with ease. But I notice that, again, she appears exhausted. There are dark circles around her otherwise lovely brown eyes and her body is somewhat stooped from a hard day’s grind.
With Darcy otherwise occupied, I look around the kitchen more carefully. It’s shocking how dilapidated it is. What should have been cheery yellow paint on the walls has faded to a pale and spotty white. The kitchen faucet leaks a slow, steady, drip, even after Darcy has turned it off. The doorframe is cracked and the buzzing from the refrigerator is not a good sound. In fact, the very chair I’m sitting in has a loose leg, and I’ve been balancing as carefully as possible on it throughout dinner.
Finally, Darcy sits back down across from me at the table, having brought me a small brandy snifter for the port. It’s not the right glass but I don’t have the heart to tell her. Instead, I reach for the burgundy liquid and take a long whiff before I pour it into the glass and take a sip. It’s smooth and heady, and I’m grateful she was willing to share her father’s special drink with a stranger.
Darcy is watching me as I sip on the drink, so I offer her a taste. She shakes her head fiercely. “You’ve never tried it?”
“Well, once, when I was little. I didn’t care for it.”
“There’s lots of things we don’t like when we’re little that we may change our minds about as adults.” I offer the glass again.
Darcy takes it from me, and I feel a thrill of electricity as our fingers brush. Playing it cool, I lean back in the chair, nearly forgetting its precarious state. Darcy takes a tentative sip from the glass, the same part where my lips had been seconds prior.Wonder what her lips taste like?
Easy boy. Don’t push things.
Darcy smiles as she hands the port back to me. “Not for me, mister,” she laughs.
“More for me then.” I feign nonchalance as I look around the kitchen, completely aware that Darcy is watching me do so.
“I’m sorry it’s not much. I’ve just had a lot to deal with since Pa…” She goes quiet.
“Did your father pass away?” I ask gently. Darcy nods. “I’m sorry. It’s hard to lose a parent. I lost my mom years ago.”
“Oh I’m so sorry,” Darcy says, taking my hand on instinct. “I lost my mom, too, when I little though, so I don’t really remember her.” She drops my hand.
“Wow. Both parents. That’s awful.” I want to grabherhand, but refrain.Clearly, she’s uncomfortable. “Got any siblings?”
She swallows a little.
“No, it’s just me. I don’t even have any grandparents.” What could have come out as a bitter statement sounded only sorrowful coming from Darcy. I wince inside, thinking about all her loss at such a tender age.
“I’m trying to keep things going, but it’s a lot,” she continues. “The farm takes priority, then the house.” She gestures around the room. “But lately seems like all Ieverhave time for is the farm.”
This is it, play it cool, bud. “Seems like a lot. How are you managing on your own like this?”
Darcy laughs, a hollow sound. “Well, not to put too fine a point on it, but I’m not sure that I am. I mean, the farm’s fine,” she catches herself, “but all the little things are just being swept out of sight and out of mind.”
