Not wanting to scare her, I cleared my throat to get her attention. Murphy finally looked up, startled, but her expression was fierce. Rain pelted down on her already sopping-wet clothes and began soaking through mine.
Glaring at me, she waved me off. “Ben, go away.”
“I can’t do that,” I said as I walked a step or two closer. “What’s wrong?”
“I just wanted to stand out here in the pouring rain, in my white shorts, and get drenched.” She spoke through gritted teeth, flailing her wet noodle of a sun hat in her hand. “It seemed like something super fun to do on a Saturday night. Now, seriously, just go because I’m getting soaked and the fun has worn off.”
“Are you serious? I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell is going on. You show up out of the blue in Colebury, working at the Bean, and now you’re standing outside this run-down duplex getting rained on.”
At my words, her eyes caught fire, their bright emerald green a contrast to the rainy gray sky. “I’ll have you know this run-down duplex is where I live. I told you it’s not much, remember?”
Ashamed of myself, I swallowed the slightest bit of regret. I’d made her feel bad, and who was I to judge?
But I couldn’t help myself. This wasn’t how I pictured Murphy living her life. It was part of the reason I never allowed myself to think about having or keeping her. I’d always envisioned her living in a penthouse apartment, dressed in the finest clothes, dripping with expensive jewelry—something I firmly believed she wanted. It was a future I never imagined I’d be able to provide for her. Who knew I’d end up like I did?
I didn’t have time to wallow in all that past shit because Murphy whirled and stomped back toward the duplex, slamming her fist into one of the doors, the sound echoing all around us.
As she banged on the door again, I waited for her to look up at me. “Stop avoiding me,” I yelled through the rain, my hair soaked and my shirt dripping.
“What?” she barked as she turned toward me.
“What in God’s green earth are you doing?” I sounded like my mom, but I didn’t care. Some caveman instinct had taken over my body, and I needed to take care of this woman.
“Ben, listen. I know you think I’m fragile and spoiled, but I’m not. At least, not anymore. I can handle this myself. I locked my keys in the car, and I just need to get a hanger from my neighbor so I can open the car door.”
“What?”
“My neighbor, she’s a nursing student. She’s probably asleep, but I need a hanger to open the car door.”
“This is the craziest thing I ever heard.”
Murphy crossed her arms in front of her, tightening her soaked blouse against her more than hard nipples. My eyes did their own thing as they scanned her body, landing right there.
“My eyes are up here, Ben,” Murphy spat at me.
“Yes, yes, I know. I’m trying to figure out how you know how to break into a locked car while stuck outside in a summer storm. I couldn’t even dream up something this crazy.”
She turned and knocked again on the door I’d come to know was her neighbor’s, then whirled back around. “I’ll let you in on another secret. The car is old, and it locks with the keys inside it. My key to the apartment is on the ring too, and it’s pouring down rain and I’m on a lonely, winding road in Vermont. Who the hell is going to help me?”
“Me?” I asked foolishly.
Murphy rolled her eyes. “Ben, this isn’t the first time my idiot self has done this. So, yeah, I know how to open the door. A trucker taught me at a rest stop on my drive up here.”
“Wait. You let a stranger help you, but you won’t let me. A trucker?”
“Yes, a trucker. Now go away.” Without another word, she spun around. The rain continued to pelt us as she banged her fist against her neighbor’s door.
This woman was so fucking stubborn, not to mention confusing the hell out of me. She went from debutante to downright independentI am woman,hear me roarin the blink of an eye. At least, in my mind.
Knowing she wouldn’t let me help, I went back to my car and decided to wait. I was on call, but my phone was quiet. I glanced at the radar and saw this storm should be passing quickly.
For the first time in my life, my fingers itched to google someone. Obviously, the internet held some of Murphy’s secrets, judging by her earlier reaction to my mentioning Google, but I didn’t want to invade her privacy. I hated when patients or other doctors googled me and came in with preconceived notions about me and what else I did with my time.
It was actually somewhat reassuring that Murphy didn’t want much to do with me. Maybe it meant she hadn’t googled me. If she had, surely I’d be more acceptable to her—and her family—with my small windfall. Another reason that I hated Google.
I hadn’t set out to make big money. In the beginning, I was coding apps while I was in college for chump change, but then I realized how I could help my parents.
Deep in thought, it wasn’t until I heard a clanking noise that I realized the storm had let up and Murphy was outside her car, scraping the shit out of her door with a coat hanger.
