“You haven’t had very good roommates then.” Shit. I meant for that to come out as a question, not a statement. I must sound like the judgmental asshole she already thinks I am.
But then her lips purse, like she’s trying not to smile, and that little dimple pops. “No, I guess I haven’t.” We stare at one another for a beat. “But I take it you’re going to change that.” She doesn’t ask me, but I answer anyway.
“Yep.” I point to her with my spoon before saying, “Now eat the delicious dinner I made us, Alice.” As she brings her spoon to her mouth, I smile with the knowledge that she seems more at ease now. I’m hoping it’s because I didn’t make a fuss about this. Nothing to fuss about.
“You got it, boss.” She takes her first bite while I pretend not to be entirely affected by her calling me boss again. Closing her eyes, she slaps a hand on the top of the table. “Ermagherd,” she mumbles, going for another bite, even though I’m not sure she’s swallowed the first yet. Her palm hits the table again, three times in quick succession. “Arthur, will you marry me?” She continues to eat, clearly not shy about how much she’s enjoying this stew. It’s not one of my favorites for nothing.
What hits me harder than the fact she seems so relaxed, like she’s back to the version of her I met at the bar, is her question. I know she wasn’t serious, obviously. We’re not going to get married because of stew. It’s notthatgood. But for some reason, that’s the thing warming my insides.
“I saw you took Scout out today. How did she do?” My question forces her to slow down her eating.
“She was great. I know she’s used to a saddle, but for alot of people, it’s beneficial to ride the horse without one. They get to really feel the animal’s movements that way, and it can be great for sensory processing.” She pauses, setting her spoon down. “Sorry I missed our meeting today, by the way. I did have a busy day, but I was also feeling weird about this morning. I’m not used to the kindness everyone around here seems to throw around so freely.”
I know she means the apology, and I’m glad she’s being honest with me. I had a feeling it was more than a busy day. “All good. We can chat another time. And we have that meeting with everyone tomorrow anyway, so we can go over a few things for the new horses then. I’m glad Scout is doing so well, though.” This time, when I smile at her, she smirks, like she’s got an inside joke I’m not in on. I narrow my eyes at her, but she shakes her head and moves on to asking me about training with Rosemary, and we ease into conversation about the day.
When we finish, Alice insists on washing the dishes. I settle for letting her help me, since she doesn’t seem to do well with sitting still. She doesn’t stop at making sure the dishes are washed, though; she wants to dry and put them away, too. I’ve noticed she never leaves dishes on the drying rack. The house always looks untouched, even though I know she has coffee in the mornings, and she’s eaten the breakfasts I’ve left her.
I’m not sure whether she’s naturally neat and tidy or if this is something she does because she thinks she has to.
The bowls we used go on a high shelf, and when she struggles to reach, I take them from her and place them back myself. With my chest flush against her back, it’s impossible to miss the hitch in her breath. Her flowery coconut scent floats up, and I linger for a moment, inhaling deeply.
I step back and clear my throat. “I can store those on alower shelf.” Except I won’t, because I want to do that again.
We work quietly to get everything put away, and by the time we’re done, Luther is scratching at the door to come inside, whining like he’s been ignored all day. He hasn’t. Paige, Corey, and Sam all took turns coming over here to play with him during the day, and I came at lunch, too.
“Sorry. I’ll go out there with him so he doesn’t bother you.” At least he didn’t bark this time.
“Actually…” She places a hand on my forearm, then drops it all too quickly. “Would it be okay if I tried, I don’t know, petting him again… or something?” It’s obvious she’s scared, but she’s asking to do this anyway.
“Are you sure?” Her face screams no, but she nods furiously. “Gonna need a verbal here, Alice.” Because even though I plan on holding on to Luther’s collar tightly if she decides to do this, I need her to be certain, and her wide eyes do not communicate that right now.
“Yeah. Yep. Yes. I’m sure. I did it before, and he was okay until he jumped, but you’ll be there this time, and he listens to you, so it’s okay.” She licks her lips, still nodding like it’s going to help to convince herself this isn’t terrifying.
“I’ll be there the whole time, holding on to him. He won’t get his paws on you. I promise.” I lower my head, meeting her gaze. Her eyes have taken on a copper tinge in the fading sunlight, and up close, I have a front-row view of the faint freckles on her nose.
“Okay,” she whispers. “Let’s do this.”
I grab his leash and a few treats out of the container by the back door and go out first, giving Luther some scratches and sitting on the ground with my legs outstretched in front of me so I can grab his collar. “I’ve got him,” I shout to Alice. I expect it to take a minute ortwo for her to work up the courage to come out here, but seconds later, she’s standing a few feet away and Luther is whipping me with his tail, hoping to finally get her attention.
“Hey, Luther,” she says softly. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you?” Stepping closer, she rubs her hands together then extends one toward him, which he happily sniffs and licks. That gets a small chuckle out of her, until he tries to pounce. I hold on tightly, but she startles and jumps back. “Okay. That’s okay. You’re excited.” She’s talking to him like he’ll respond, but I think she needs to process what’s happening verbally. “Let’s try this again, okay?” She steps forward once more, bending to pet the top of Luther’s head. He behaves this time, and with my free hand, I show her the small treat, offering to let her give it to him. She shakes her head, so I go ahead and let Luther know he’s doing what we need him to.
“You’re doing great.” I keep my voice calm and gentle.
“Yeah, he is.” Alice’s eyes are glued to Luther, watching for any change in his demeanor. Her hands move to his ears, and he sits, panting in delight.
“No, Alice.You’redoing great.” With my hold on Luther steady, she relaxes and lets her gaze meet mine for a second. When Luther goes limp and flops down on the ground with his head landing on my leg, she giggles. It’s such a good sound. Like birds chirping on a clear morning. Like rainfall on a tin roof. It’s joy and comfort.
She crouches down to keep petting him, and his eyes practically roll to the back of his head, and then so do mine when her hand grazes the bare skin on the inside of my knee. If she’s uncomfortable in any way, she doesn’t show it. She sits cross-legged and moves to rub his chest and belly, and my dog, who is an absolute ho for any attention,grunts and rolls back and forth, asking for more. It earns us another sweet little laugh.
“I think we can be friends someday, Luther.” There’s not a ton of conviction in her voice, but I’ll take it. She’s doing something that scares her, and sometimes we need to talk ourselves into believing something we aren’t entirely confident in. I know all about that.
As Luther looks up at me, I give him another treat, and he must think this is the best day of his life. It probably is. He’s getting treats and attention from the person he’s been trying to bug for two weeks.
“Maybe we should leave on a high note?” Alice’s eyes flit to mine. “I don’t want to overdo it, you know?”
“Yeah. Yeah, of course.”
As her hand moves off Luther, I replace it with mine. He tries to move, but I keep him down as Alice stands and steps back.
