I’m an only child.
I asked why she’s here.
Just needed a break.
Okay. Sure. I understand that. Her evasiveness doesn’t bother me at all.
Nope.
So we eat in silence. It’s unpleasant. I’m not usually a talkative guy, but eating in total silence is annoying, and it’s killing me. In a last-ditch effort to make conversation, I ask her if she’s upset. Her eyes look worried, like she’s holding more than someone her age should carry.
She sighs and points to her shirt. I noticed it the second she opened the door, but I didn’t say anything.
“Fine, I get it.” I hold up my hands and read her shirt. “You don’t wanna taco ‘bout it. Because it’s nacho business.”
She points one bright blue fingernail at me. “It’snachobusiness.”
“Yes, yes, I understand.” Irritation creeps into me. This girl is not like anyone I’ve ever met before.
She stands, pushing aside more than half her food. “I’m ready to start.”
I pause, my fork suspended inches from my mouth. It’s loaded with flaky biscuit and lukewarm gravy and it’s going to be as delicious as my previous ten bites. “I’m not done.”
“You eat like a horse,” Brynn whines, flopping back down into her chair.
I take my bite and point the now-empty tines at her plate. “You eat like a bird.”
“I don’t have much of an appetite this morning.” Her words are soft, an admittance. She looks down, to the hands folded in her lap.
“Everything okay?” It’s an automatic question.
Her gaze flies up to my face, eyes bulging.
“Forgot. Sorry. Taco, nacho, funny shirt, blah blah blah.”
We stand, and I rinse the containers in her sink after she knocks the food into the garbage. She leans an elbow on the counter and watches me. “Please tell your mother I said thank you. It was delicious.”
Using a kitchen towel to dry my hands, I inform Brynn she can compliment my mother herself. “She wants to meet Vale Handyman Services newest employee.”
“When?”
“Sometime soon.”
“Right. Um, okay.” She clasps her hands in front of herself, twisting them. “I need to brush my teeth. I’ll be right back.” She turns from the room. In a moment I hear water running, then the faint sounds of bristles scrubbing teeth. I walk to the living room and look around. There are no decorations, no pictures, nothing to show that a person with a personality like Brynn’s lives here.
Weird.
Brynn’s silent on the drive to work. She stares out the window, but her muscles are tense. Normally I’m fine with quiet drives, but it’s hard with a near-stranger sitting in my truck. Especially one who confounds me as she does.
“Brynn?”
“Hmmm?” She looks at me.
I had no question, really. No reason to say her name.
“What’s your last name again?” Lame. I already know it, but I seized.
“Montgomery.” She continues to look out the window as she answers.
