Chapter Twenty-three
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Cash
Some people learn to dance in the rain. Others simply get wet.
For the last five days, as the rain has continued to come down in sheets, I’ve slowly turned into the latter. Like a bee in a beer glass, I’m pissed off and ready to sting from being stuck inside for too long.
Plus, my head is killing me. I swear some sadistic sonofabitch shoved a steak knife through my cerebral cortex. Then there’s the stench of construction dust, the glare of too many projects still to do, and the constant fear I’ve bitten off more than I can chew with this damned house.
I turn my discontent on Luc. “So how was your second date with Sally Renee?”
From his spot in the folding chair next to mine, he shrugs. “Don’t think you could really call it adate.”
“Right. You’re just letting her use you as a scratching post.”
A small smile plays at his mouth. “I think Sally and I make sure to take care of eachother’sitches.”
“I looked her up online, you know. She’s a real catch.” In case he’s not picking up on the sarcasm I’m laying down, I add, “You’ll plug any sticky hole you find, won’t you?”
He tugs on his ear, proof I’ve torqued him off.
Good. Now we’re even.
“Why d’ya care, man? You’ve pluggedtwiceas many sticky holes as I have.” He makes a face. “Dammit! Now you got me talking like you, and it’s disgusting.”
“You upset Maggie.” I stare at him. Hard.
He sighs and shakes his head. “Maggie May thinks she knows what’s best for me, and no doubt Sally Renee doesn’t fall into that category. But it’s none of her business. Just like it’s none of yours.”
While I silently fume, he studies me like he’s trying to figure me out. Ha! Good luck with that. Most days I can’t figuremyselfout.
After a while, he sighs. “Look, man, I know you’re trying to be the good guy with Maggie May. I know you don’t wanna saddle her with your injury or your pain or your shitty attitude. But becoming a sexual anorexic doesn’t suit you. You should tell her how you still feel about her. Tell her about your plan to hold off on starting anything up until you know whether you’ll get better. And you sure as shit should tell her why you left. It’s time.”
Just the thought makes my mouth go bone-dry. “I can’t.”
He tosses his hands in the air. “For God’s sake,why?”
“Because if I tell her the truth about all that, she’ll follow me around like a damned puppy until I give in to her.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“Yes.”
He rakes a hand through his hair, making the front whorl stick up. “I don’t get it.”
“What we had…” I stare at the far wall. Behind it is a bedroom. A sweet space that could someday be used for a nursery. I can picture it perfectly and a lump forms in my throat. “What we had was perfect. Don’t want to tarnish the memory of that with what I am now.”
Damn. That sounds so made-for-television Lifetime movie-worthy.
“It can be perfect again,” he declares adamantly. “Perfect doesn’t mean no sickness or problems. Perfect can be hard and messy andugly.”
“I won’t pull her into this thing with me, Luc.”
“Ever consider shewantsyou to?”
“I don’t care what she wants. I know what’s best.” I hold up a hand when he opens his mouth to argue. “I hope you don’t need anything more out of this case, since the motherfucker isclosed.”
