“What?”
“It’s Thanksgiving. Turkey. You know… the bird that gobbles, do you like it?” I run a hand through my hair. This is so fucking stupid.
“Yes, I like Turkey,” is his confused response, but it’s paired with a humorous exhale.
I don’t want to turn around to see his face right now. I just know he’s looking at the back of my head like I’m crazy.
Because I feel crazy.
We reach the small shed. It was only a good few yards away, but it might as well have been miles away with how constricting that walk felt.
Pushing the door open, I flick on the light, but it does little to illuminate the space around us. My eyes squint as I try to take in my surroundings. There’s an old motorcycle in here collecting dust, and I side-step it, afraid that if I get too close, a cockroach will launch itself onto me. Toolboxes cover the floor—more than anyone would need—with hammers and spanners poking out of each one, meaning the lids can’t close.
It’s creepy, to say the least.
“Are we just going to stand here, or are we going to get the wine?” Nathan asks me, and his husky voice kickstarts my limbs, encouraging me to take another step forward.
I reach down once my eyes begin to adjust, meaning I can see the small cluster of bottles in the corner. But as I bend, Nathan takes a quick breath.
“What?”
“Mae, don’t freak out, but there’s a giant spider on your back.”
My spine goes rigid, and I shoot back up into a standing position. “No, there’s not!” My heart stutters in my chest. Small spiders I can deal with, but hearing there’s a ‘giant’ one on me turns my blood to ice.
I know it can’t hurt me, and I do love all animals, but that doesn’t mean I want them on my back.
“Please tell me you’re joking.” My hands are frozen at my sides.
He shakes his head slowly, his eyebrows pulled taut. His eyes flicker to my lower back, where I assume the spider is sitting.
“When you say big…?”
He doesn’t respond, and that tells me all I need to know. I have the equivalent of Shelob on my back.
I take note of the sly smile on his face, and I clench my fists. “It’s not funny, Nathan! Don’t laugh!”
He wipes his hand across his mouth as if to cleanse the laugh from it.
“Nathan, please get it off.” I’m making an effort not to shout, but my patience is wearing thin. I’m on the verge of tearing my shirt off right in front of him just to rid myself of this itchy skin feeling. Tears prick my eyes. The uncertainty of not knowing what the spider looks like makes it so much worse. I’d feel more at ease if I could see it, but since I can’t, my imagination is spiralling with thoughts of what it might look like.
Is it poisonous?
Black and hairy?
Is it a jumping one? Some can jump.
“Okay, okay, turn around. Calm down for me, princess.” I almost jolt at the nickname, but I can’t find it within myself to demand he cut it out right now.
I can tell he’s on the verge of laughing again, but he stifles it as he twirls his index finger, releasing a quiet whistle once he catches sight of the creature again.
If it looks that big in the dark, how big would it look in the light? I don’t even want to think about it. Clamping my eyes shut, I brace my hands against the shed wall, shuffling closer to Nathan and bending so he has easy access.
This is a suggestive position, but I don’t give a fuck right now.
He doesn’t say anything, and I clear my throat. “Nathan?”
“Hold still.” He sounds like he’s breathing heavily through his nose.
