“Come on. I saw you two together. You worked just fine.”
“Clearly we didn’t… because we broke up.”
“You broke up because you were going through something, and you didn’t get back together because you’re both stubborn.”
I roll my eyes and take another sip of liquid sugar. “You’re annoying.”
“I am.” She grins. “Thank you. Now do what I say and fix your life.”
“Well, you make it sound so easy.” I tilt my head to the side with playful sarcasm as I say, “So… tell me how things are going with Daddy’s best friend.”
Kit rolls her eyes and stands before turning toward the freezer to pull out two cartons of Merry Gingerbread ice cream.The local creamery makes all these festive flavors this time of the year. “We’re still talking about you. Can you at least agree that you have a connection with him?”
I sit up straighter. “I agree that he’s easy to talk to.”
She grabs two spoons from the drawer next to the fridge and hands one toward me. “Why are you impossible? The ghost of Christmas present has given you a gift. Take it!”
I roll my eyes and take the spoon. “And are you going to take the gift of your dad’s best friend?”
She narrows her gaze at me playfully. “If you say ‘dad’s best friend’one more time, I’m going to make the call to Tex myself. Now eat your ice cream. It’s melting.”
I take her advice and flip open the top, taking in the scent of vanilla and ginger. “Have you considered the part where Tex is too old for me? I mean, I know it’s your thing, but it’s not mine.”
“He wasn’t too old for you before.”She narrows her brows as though she’s scolding me for thinking such things. “He’s lived this whole life, has all this wisdom, knows what he wants, understands whatyouwant, and he knows how to give it to you. Why are you making everything so complicated? Ask him to the New Year’s Eve party at the lodge and go recreate that night you told me about back in the day. You know, the one in the window.” She’s barely gotten her sentence out when I hear tires crunching over rocks outside followed by the slam of a truck door.
I narrow my gaze. “Are you expecting someone?”
She shakes her head. “No, but sometimes the propane guy surprises me. I’ll handle it. You keep eating your ice cream. You look hungry.”
I love Kit. I love that we have moments like this. Moments where we get to be playful and honest. I’ve had friends before where that never happens. Instead, everything just stays on thesurface. I guess that’s the benefit of having known each other for most of our lives.
I sit back and take another scoop of ice cream, trying to savor the last of the holiday season, but I’ve barely taken a bite when I hear Richard hollering in the entryway.
What the hell?
I stand from my chair and make my way down the short hall to the front door, my chest tight. Why would he be here? I do this once a week. He’s never shown up before, not once.
“What’s going on?” The words come out stiff, and though I don’t want to sound scared, I am.
“Let’s go, Marley,” Richard barks. I can tell already this isn’t going to go well. I’ve seen this look before. He’s gotten something into his head. I can tell by the vacant glaze in his stare.
“What? No. I’m visiting with my friend.”
“I said,” he lowers his voice and clenches his fists at his side like he’s intimidating me, “get in the truck,now.”
Usually something innocuous triggers these fits of rage, but most of the time, I see it coming. At first, I figure it was the interaction at the bookstore earlier. Maybe I said something that upset him. Maybe the conversation with Tex has been bothering him all day. Maybe he picked up on the way my body reacted to Tex’s. It wasn’t intentional, but I knew it was happening.
That said, this behavior with Richard isn’t new and it needs to stop.
“I’m not getting in the truck, Richard, and you need to leave.” I hold my tone firm though my insides are shaking.
“Leave, or I’m calling the cops,” Kit says, holding her phone out.
“You’re the one causing a scene,” he snarls. “I told you to get in the truck.”
“I’m not going to the truck,” I bark louder, stepping forward. If this guy wants to fight, we can fight. I’m not doing this anymore.
Kit steps back into the kitchen, tugging at my arm. “Come on. We don’t have to listen to him.”
