She’s three feet away from that mama skunk. “Are you trying to get sprayed again?”
“Are you trying to kill a mother? A mother, Roman!”
“I didn’t see her. I was distracted.”
Mama skunk takes two steps my way and I stumble back. But the ol’ girl doesn’t look as though she’s feeling threatened. Not today.
Stella must notice to. “You’ve shocked her,” she says—insanely taking one step closer.
“Stell,” I gripe. “Leave her. She’s fine. We didn’t hit her.” I take three more steps back—bumping into my open car door. “Get inside.”
She follows my orders, but her eyes are glassy with unshed tears.
“What are you doing?” I say, looking over at her.
“Do you even care about her?” Stella asks and I’m utterly confused.
“About the skunk who sprayed you? Do I care about her? I—” I shake my head, no answer coming. No answer feels like the right one. “Do you?”
“Of course. I want her to be happy. To be whole. I don’t want her dead!” That last word bites—as if she thinks I almost hit that skunk on purpose.
“I never said I wanted her dead.”
“But do you care if she’s happy?”
We watch as mama skunk makes her way into the woods and then I hit the gas. We’re almost home, Stella might be leaving, my heart isn’t sure it can take it, and we’re arguing about murdering skunks.
“Do I care if the skunk is happy?”
“Do you even know what she wants?” Stella says.
“Stella,” I growl, shaking my head. Because at this point, I’m certain I don’t know a dang thing.
“You know what,” she says, exhaling a trembling breath. “I need to call my mother.”
“Rebecca?” I feel like I’m lost in the woods with no way home, no clue at what’s happening here.
“Yes.”
Maybe she’s excited to give Rebecca good news.
The thought of Stella leaving our cabin, our home, our bed—makes me sick inside. But I can’t be selfish, not with Stella.
Before I can put the car in park, her phone rings with a FaceTime call to her mother.
“You’re calling now?”
But Stella doesn’t answer, she doesn’t even look at me.
“Stella?” Rebecca says, her face lighting up Stella’s phone.
“Yep! It’s me, Mom,” Stella says, sounding a little too cheery. It’s just not quite right. “Roman too!” She points the phone my direction and once again I’m waving at Stella’s phone.
“Oh, I adore Roman.”
“Don’t’ we all,” Stella deadpans.
Did I do something? Other than almost kill Stella’s skunk friend.
