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She adjusts her purse on her shoulder and I still can’t tell how to feel about her. Reading people and situations is usually a lot easier than this. It’s almost as if her walls are as thick as mine.
“Yes, Mr Ryker. Someone who will be more immune to your particular charms and can get you to take your assessment seriously. You need to pass this if you want return to work for the season.”
“Pass? Like it’s a biology test? I’m sorry, but have you ever stood in the middle of a forest being engulfed in flame? Have you ever carried a hundred pounds of gear on your back in 200-degree heat and smoke that turns you blind and sears your lungs? Have you watched someone you’ve known your whole life die in your arms?” My irritation burns through me as memories buck against their chains, wanting to take over my brain.
“I’m sorry but that’s not a test you can really pass...” I push off the wall, done with her confusing calmness and condescending head tilt. She doesn’t let me move past her. She steps in my path, pushing her sunglasses to the top of her head. She is a very beautiful woman, with a deep darkness in her liquid eyes, and I shrink back at her glare.
“They told me you’d make me prove myself. That you are protective of your inner space and hold trials to gain your approval.”
My jaw falls open and she advances on me again.
“I want to be clear,” she says sternly. “My past is none of your business. But for the sake of the job and getting this completed as quickly as we can to get you back on your team, I’ll take your bait. I’ll play your pride game.”
I want to retort. To deny her claim. To fight back. But she doesn’t give me the chance.
“I am a refugee, Mr. Ryker. I have stood in the middle of my village as it was burned to the ground. I have snuck away from my home with all my worldly possessions on my back through desert sands that blistered my skin and sucked every bit of moisture from my body. I watched my father weep over my brother’s corpse after a stray bullet pierced his lungs.”
She speaks with such detachment and calmness that I shrink back into the wall with each word feeling small and foolish and ashamed.
“I’m not in the business of scorekeeping when it comes to trauma,” she continues. “I am empathetic to your struggle, Mr. Ryker, and would never diminish the pain you’ve been through in your life both personally and professionally. But you’ll have to excuse me if I’m immune to your Poor White Boy defenses. We are both human. We have both felt pain and loss and fear and disappointment. We have both been overwhelmed by life in different ways at different times. We are connected. It’s not a matter of if I can help you. It’s comes down to if you’ll let me help you. You are still in control here, Xan. You like that, right? To feel like you’re in control?”
She’s still completely devoid of judgment, speaking with smooth calmness but I feel every single syllable as a series of hits to my softest spots. Anger fights its way through me but my disorientation at her approach is too thick to penetrate. A smug satisfaction falls over her and she slips her sunglasses back onto her slender nose.
“So how about we meet at the office at nine Monday morning and get you back to work, okay?”
She doesn’t wait for me to answer and I don’t try because I feel smaller than I ever have before. Like a scolded child left to wallow in my own shame and embarrassment.
I collapse against the wall, exhaustion hunching my shoulders forward and I scrub my palms over my face. I have no idea how long I stand there with the hot sun burning my neck and my thoughts searing my brain.
The sound of kids piling through the door interrupts my stupor and Jet stands next to me, his shadow shading me from the sun.
“What was that about?” he asks with concern in his eyes but a hard edge to his voice. Jet is the untrusting one. People thought I was guarded. I’m a fucking open book of emotion compared to my brother.
I run a hand through my hair and catch Millie’s eye as she leaves the diner. Everything immediately settles into place and I go belly up. I submit. My priorities shift so fast it puts me off balance. My pride suddenly seems foolish in comparison.
“My boss just pulled out the big guns.”
Jet grins at me, knowing exactly what I mean.
“About time,” he says and joins the kids walking back to the school to meet their parents.
“You coming?” Millie asks and I push off the wall, matching her pace. “Are you okay?”
The concern in her eyes is palpable. She’s a kid that absorbs everything around her. Even the emotion of others. I pat her shoulder.
“I’m great, kiddo,” I say and feel adoration for her flood out all my negative thoughts. “Today was a perfect day.”
She beams at me before skipping ahead to join her new teammates.
This is the second day I’ve known her, but she’s become my reason for being.
I need to be worthy of her.
That was the only thing I’m certain of anymore.
So, I need to show up Monday, swallow my pride, and get back on my crew.
I’ll do it for Millie.
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