“She asked why you didn’t come last night, and I told her you had a rough day. That’s it.”
“And then she shows up? The next day?” I press, disbelieving. “You told her a hell of a lot more than that.”
“I didn’t! Her uncle works in immigration. You’re not the first person to move here and have… stuff to sort through.” He’s struggling to put things diplomatically. “People don’t need to know how the shit got on your boots to smell it. I’m sorry, all right? I would have told you she might swing by, but you wouldn’t talk to me—”
“Fine. Whatever. I get it. I’m the one being illogical.” I throw my arms in the air. “Why don’t we go inside and have dinner, then?”
“Kayla, that isn’t what I said.” He puts a hand on my shoulder, but I knock him away. “Please. I’m trying to help.”
“When I asked you for help, Sid,” I say pointedly, “inviting strangers into the only place I feel safe wasn’t what I had in mind.”
The colour drains from his face. Against all odds, it seems I’ve won this fight. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs.
Amy is sitting in the kitchen with her hands clasped tightly while James regales her with some story about overhearing the island’s white-tail deer going into rut last week. The poor woman looks ready to pass out from discomfort.
“James, move.” I push him to the side. “She came to see me, so I get to sit next to her.”
“Well, I am not one to get in between female friendships.” James gallantly slides down the bench, making room. How did he even know she was here? He was nowhere near the kitchens when she arrived. He must have some special organ for sniffing out female pheromones. He grins his usual smarmy grin. “I dated twins once, you know. Worst mistake of my life.”
“Thank you,” Amy whispers. Mercifully, this means we’ll have something to talk about other than my issues or the fact that Sid and I obviously had an argument.Harassing James really is the perfect cause for women to rally behind.
Sid and I had an argument. We hadn’t donethatsince we started sleeping together, either.
I push the thought away, determined to perform normality. “All those years in TNS and dating twins is the worst thing you’ve ever done?”
James shrugs. “I wasn’t responsible for any of their shit.”
What I wouldn’t give to live with this man’s unbridled confidence.
Dinner is relatively pleasant. If anyone does a poor job of acting natural around Amy, it’s Sid, who doesn’t stop sulking until I kick him under the table. He rallies and starts a conversation with Amy about trade deals with Penelakut and America. Apparently, there’s a big negotiation going on with the San Juans over their limestone deposits. Both are fiercely opinionated on the subject.
“What do you think they want? More access to the hospital, of course,” Amy says. “I don’t know why Council is stalling—”
“Because we’ve barely got enough medicine to keep our own people alive,” he counters.
“We could manufacture more if we could build more permanent structures. Cement, glass, fertilizer. It’s all connected, Sid. Itmatters.”
“You just want them to repair the road to the south island.”
“Can you blame me? Biking that thing is hell.”
I wish I could join in, but I’ve barely cracked that book on Salt Spring’s history. I want to like Amy, but I find myself reminded again that she’s the type of woman Sid should have married: someone who mirrors his political aspirations and has her life together. He’s not doinganything wrong with the way they’re talking. I don’t think discussing lime deposits counts as flirting, but a horrible sense of inadequacy snakes into me nonetheless. I’m still angry with him, but I slide my hand into his beneath the table, trying to reassure myself.
After dinner, Amy taps me on the shoulder. She inclines her head toward where Sid and the boys have started washing dishes. “They look busy. Care to go for a walk with me?”
“Oh. I should probably help out—”
“No. You and Carlos cooked.” Amy grabs my arm and steers me out the door. “Anyone who has to clean up after they’ve cooked dinner for their family is suffering a great injustice and you will never convince me otherwise.”
“The duck pond is nice,” I say, mostly to be sure she doesn’t try to drag me toward the road.
“Sure. We can head that way.”
I feel bad when her nice black shoes sink into the muddy paths down our back field. The main road has better drainage. Still, if she wasn’t ready to get dirty, she shouldn’t have come to the countryside today.
“This place is beautiful,” she says, surveying the misty bank robing the cedars at the eastern edge of the property. “I’m glad they got this place. Must be a load off Sid’s mind.”
“Yeah, he seems…” I trail off, realizing I don’t actually have the best idea how he’s feeling right now. Probably like I’ve screwed everything up for him.
