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“You won’t find me, I write under a pen name,” she says.
I wait. “Are you not going to tell me what your pen name is?”
She shakes her head. “If you try you could probably figure it out.”
We sit in silence again for a few minutes. This seems to be a pattern. Fortunately, the silences aren’t too awkward, just silent.
“I didn’t ghost you,” I say suddenly, “you ghosted me.”
Her mouth drops and she looks angry.
“I think maybe you should leave,” she says and gets up to refill her coffee.
“Or we could talk it out like mature adults?”
She turns, hands on hips and looks at me, really looks.
“I’ve had enough mature conversations lately to last me a lifetime. I just want to be here, down the shore, in peace. I’m not looking to rehash old hurts.”
“Fair enough,” I say, getting up to clear my coffee and plate. Before I leave, I turn to her, “Enjoy your time here, I won’t bother you.”
She’s silent and looking out the kitchen window as I walk out.
When I get home, I get to work on a custom piece I’m making for a local couple. I put my whole body into it, listening to music instead of a podcast. I don’t have the patience to listen to people talking right now.
People are disappointing and I only wish I didn’t have to include Mollie in that generalization. Maybe it was too soon to bring up our past, but I feel it holding us back from becoming real friends again. On the other hand, she has a lot to work through and deserves a chance to do that without some weird blast from the past mucking it up.
The urge to help her is strong, and I thought if we could get past what we did to each other, we could maybe move on together.
There’s a knock on the side of the house and when I look up, I see it’s Dirk. I put down my sander and wipe my brow, heading to him.
“Hey man, didn’t see you there.”
“It’s all good, I waited until you were done with the heavy machinery.” We shake hands and I gesture to him to follow me inside.
I pour two glasses of water and hand him one. “Was hoping for something stronger, but I’ll take it.”
“It’s not even noon, man,” I say joking.
“I’m kidding,” he says. “I’ve been sober for over ten years now.”
“Good for you, that’s a great accomplishment.”
“Yeah, when I got out of the army, I had a few issues and tried to make them go away with pain killers and tequila. Turns out, they just make things worse. Who knew?” he says and we both laugh, because we all know that doesn’t make it easier.
“Well, I’m glad you’re in a better spot now.”
“Oh yeah, years of therapy, food, and a good woman will do that for you.”
“Where do you find one of those?” I ask.
“Well, probably not down here with all the senior citizens, but you didn’t seem to have much luck in the city either.”
When Dirk first found me, I was a wreck, he listened to me whine about my girlfriend and my job. I’ve been to his house a few times for barbecues, but mostly I’ve been keeping to myself. Guess I have been up my own ass and not realizing he didn’t drink.
“No, I didn’t,” I say because I’m tired of talking about things that are shitty and that I can’t do anything about. “What brings you here?”
He smiles and takes a long sip of water. “Well, I was curious about your not so new neighbor.”
