I can’t see her expression since it’s still facing the window, but I notice the corner of her eyes scrunch up like she’s rolling them. I flex my hand on the steering wheel wanting to take her hand in mine and show her all of the ways I’m different from who I was in my twenties. And I’m not talking about mental or emotional maturity, but the ways that I’ve changed physically, too. But I resist and continue the drive in silence.
Chapter 11 – Clay
“I wish I cared less about what people think,” Maggie says on a sigh.
“You get burned enough times; you stop caring what people think and do your own thing. You channel that energy into something more productive.”
“Is that what you’re doing?” she asks, her voice steady. “Harnessing the pain and anger from what happened with Savannah into something else?”
Her question catches me off guard. I hadn’t expected her to link what I was saying to Savannah—my ex from years ago. Maggie had only been around twelve when Savannah’s accident happened, when everything in my life spiraled. I didn’t think she’d known much about it. But the seriousness in her brown eyes as they meet mine show a maturity far beyond her twenty years.
I clear my throat, “Life doesn’t always work the way you anticipate and there gets a point where you can’t keep holding in that disappointment. It’s gotta come out somehow. What happened between me and Savannah was almost a decade ago.” I cast her a sideways glance as I continue to drive, wondering if I’m getting through to her. “I’ve lived a lot more in the time sincethen. There will always be new pains and challenges to process. I wasn’t referring to what happened between her and I.”
Her eyes narrow as if she’s trying to make sense of what I could mean.
“You got a hobby or something that makes you feel alive outside of working at the hospital?” I ask, not sure where I’m taking this conversation.
She shakes her head. “Nope. But I’d like to.”
“Just gotta find something you enjoy that doesn’t feel like work.”
“Will you help me think of something? I’ve never really had a hobby. I like to imagine that if my mom were still here, we’d be doing things together all summer while my dad was at work.”
I hesitate, once again thrown off by her brutal honesty. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea...”
“Because you work for my dad’s fleet?” she presses, her eyes steady, challenging me to be honest.
“Partly, but mostly because I’m fifteen years older than you and have known you since you were a baby. Not sure it’s a good idea for us to be spending too much alone time together. Plus, I don’t think what we like to do in our free time would be the same.”
She snorts in response and my mind drifts to what she could be thinking about. “Why does age matter so much to you? No one knows when their last day will be. Time is just a construct that humans have created. Albert Einstein said, ′time is an illusion.’”
I furrow my brow.What kind of poetic, introspective shit has she been pontificating on lately?
I tap my foot, annoyed because she’s not entirely wrong, “Time can’t be that much of an illusion because age provides wisdom.”
“So... you’re saying that because I’m young, I’m not wise?”
This woman...
“That’s not what I’m saying.” I turn into my apartment complex,and cut the engine, turning finally to face her.
She smirks, “To be honest, I think I look more stable than you are right now. You go from kicking me out of your apartment after devouring the breakfast I made, to ’rescuing’ me from a pool party, to driving me home to your apartment, and now you’re saying you can’t help me think of a hobby this summer because you’re too old and it’d be ’inappropriate.’ And speaking of old, are those grey hairs that I see?” She reaches up to touch my temples teasingly, but I catch her wrist, holding it firmly.
I know she’s joking, but I can’t handle her gentle touch coupled with the playful banter right now. Except as I look down, I realize I’m gripping her now, touching her anyways. Her eyes widen as her gaze drops down to where we’re connected then back up at me like Bambi from a Disney movie—innocent, round, and impossibly beautiful.
“Look, I’ll help you think of some sort of activities to do this summer, ok? But you need to do this stuff with your friends, people your own age.”
Her blue eyes sparkle like the Gulf of Mexico, and her smile widens like she might burst into tears of joy. She rushes towards me, reaching across the console, and flinging her arms around my neck, pressing her soft body against mine just like she had two weeks ago at the firehouse when she’d greeted me in a drunken haze.
But this time, she isn’t drunk, and her dad isn’t forty yards away in the firehouse, keeping a watchful eye on his little girl. I can feel her softness and the way her curves press into my much harder frame, stirring an ache within me. And now, she’s about to sleep just a few feet away from me tonight.
This isn’t a good idea.
She pulls back slightly, her perfectly white teeth gleaming as she smiles up at me.
“Really?”
I shrug, “I’m not promising to do whatever wild activity you come up with, so ask Lucy, or something.”
