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It’s easy for her. To find the good in the bad and to be perky and happy and wondrous while seeing the good in the world. Clearly, she hasn’t encountered much of the other side of it. I’m willing to bet my left nut that her happy outlook on life would wilt like a flower in a drought if it were tested. My nuts are pretty damn precious to me, so I’m utterly confident in my assessment.
“You know what I think?” She crosses her arms and gives me the hairy eyeball staredown that would put even the cats to shame.
“I don’t, but I have a feeling you’re going to enlighten me,” I tell her.
“I think you’re scared.”
There we go. There it is. I wasn’t bracing for it because I wasn’t expecting this from someone who didn’t even know me. “Scared of what?” I challenge automatically. I shouldn’t even be engaging in this since this is what she wants.
“I think you’re scared that if you let yourself, you might actually find that nothing is as bad as you believe it is.”
Ahh, finally. She’s genuinely and truly wrong about something. I want to fill her in and give her some rock-solid proof to counter her words, but there’s no way I’m going there. I’m not walking into that nicely sprung trap, no matter how prettily she baited it.
Damn it, I’m walking into it. “I find your relentless optimism and bone-deep knowledge of life, humanity, and the human psyche to be absolutely exhausting. The only thing I’m afraid of is how many more wrong philosophies you can spout in a single evening.”
She just smiles at me despite the hard edge in my words. “Oh, don’t get me started. This is just a warm-up. I could keep going if you like.”
“I very much wouldnotlike.”
The silence stretches between us. I’m uncomfortable while she’s blissfully content over there, still munching away on crackers and cheese. Damn it, she’s the intruder, the interloper. I shouldn’t feel this edgy. Like I’m the one who needs to get up and take a walk or leave—leave my own freaking house and yard and property, leave the one place on earth that brings me a measure of peace.
“You think I’ve lost my way.”Fiddle fucking sticks. Shut up.“That I’m hiding out here, taking the easy way out, severing all connections.”Okay then. That’s right. Just keep going.Nope, I’m done now. So done.
Nina’s eyes drop down to the grass. “It’s not my business why you’re out here. But if you had pain and it brought you here, I’m sorry for it.”
“You’re probably one of thoseevery single day, do something that scares youkinds of people.”
She twines her fingers through the blades of grass. They’re long under the tree, as I haven’t mowed over here in a while. “Not really, but if we’re not connected, and we’re not living our lives for others, within reason, then are we really living at all?”
“I knew you were a secret philosopher.” A distant baaaaaa puts an exclamation point on that.
Nina laughs. Despite everything, I still think the sound of her laughter is pretty. “I don’t know about that, but I guess if you want to live for your sheep, your donkey, your dog, and your cats, that’s okay too. I’m still sorry for your pain.”
“What if I told you there was no pain?”
Her eyes jerk up, and she looks right at me in that unnerving way that makes my skin crawl and my heart flop over itself at the same time. “I’d have to tell you that the soul is written in the eyes, and yours are grieving. These things change us, whatever they are. The past, I mean. We wear the marks on our souls for a long time.”
“The sheep cheese will change you too if you’re not careful.” I have to make a joke, or at least attempt one. Things are getting way too heavy and personal for me, and I’m bugging the heck out, packing all mylet’s get the hell out of heremental bags and running.
Her mouth falls open, but damn it, she’s intrigued and not at all disgusted like I hoped she would be. What is wrong with this woman? She’s looking for a prince charming who swoops in and saves her, rescues her on his white stead in his dazzling armor. Thank sweet fucktarts—told you I’d break out some gooders—that I don’t have a horse here. She’d probably get ideas about it.
“Well, I’m hopeful that it will. For the better. I like it out here. I can see the attraction.” She shifts and looks toward the house. “Thanks for letting me spend the night.”
“Did I really have a choice?”
“Obviously. You could have packed me off with my car, given me money for the parts and a hotel, and told me not to come back.”
“Maybe I still will.”
“I don’t think so. I think you’ll prepare the spare bedroom for me and let me spend the night, and tomorrow will look all fresh and beautiful, and we’ll have things figured out.”
“Tomorrow, hopefully, your car will be finished because I’ll pay anyone as much as it takes to get it done, and then you can be on your way, safe and sound.”
“But you’ll talk to a lawyer first? Before you take me to pick up my car?”
She’s so relentless. I don’t know why this silly contract matters so much to her. It’s absurd. About as absurd as our grannies putting our names on one, to begin with. I blow out a long sigh and decide to just give her what she wants. If it means having her out of my life and seeing the end of this, then I should just darn well give in.
“Yes, I’ll contact a lawyer. But there’s no guest bedroom. The only bed in the whole house is mine.”
