“He’s lucky you showed up. Their occupancy rate was pretty low for a property with so many units,” she says. “Are you doing well, though? Are you happy here?”
“Of course I am.”
“Of course.”
I don’t know what response she’s expecting. She’s alwaysbeen kind to me, but she’s still the niece of my immigration case worker. And let’s not forget, my husband’s ex-girlfriend. Like hell am I giving her anything to report back with.
“I guess I find myself worrying about you because… well, they’re a good group of guys but therearea lot of them,” she continues. “It must be a little lonely with no other women.”
“I’ve got my sister.”
“I know, but she’s still a kid,” Amy points out. “I might be overstepping, but… if I have my facts straight, you haven’t lived with other people for a long time. Like, you’ve never had female friends.”
“I did. Back in…” Astolia almost rolls off my tongue along with Beth-Anne’s name.
“Port Alberni? But you were a child back then.” She fills in the blanks for me and I let myself nod. It’s close enough to the truth.
“I mean… in fairness, I haven’t had friends of either gender since then, so the boys are an improvement in my books.”
“True.” She gives a half-hearted laugh. “What I’m saying is, if you need someone to talk to, I would be honoured. I really would. Yesterday, I went to tell Sid how well-written his speech was, and he said you practically wrote it for him.”
“I wouldn’t say that. We did dictation.” I don’t know which way to look to avoid the earnestness of her large, hazel eyes, but eventually settle on a mallard preening his feathers on the other side of the pond.
“It still meant a lot to him. He… look, he’s not always great at spelling things out, but he cares about you. That much is obvious.”
I’m sure she means all this kindly, but it’s hard not tohear the implication that she thinks she knows him better than I do. “Yeah, I know.”
“And… he’s worried about you.”
“I know.”
“So, if you ever need anything—”
“Amy, I appreciate you coming out, but if talking to me is a favour to my husband, you don’t need to worry about me.”
“I—I’m so sorry. That’s not what I meant at all.” Her face falls, a flush spreading across her cheeks. She’s practically mimicking Sid an hour ago. Wouldn’t they be peas in a pod together?
“Like I said, I’ve got the boys. I can always ask James about rutting deer if I get lonely.”
“Heh.” There’s still colour in her cheeks, but at least she acknowledges my joke. “Let me try this again: Sid doesn’t ask for things. I would like to think we’re friends, but he sure as shit never asks for my help. Not even with his campaign, when we’re supposed to be working together. He’s an absolute ox.”
I almost counter that it isn’t true; his stubborn streak folds the moment he cares about someone, because for all his walls and gruffness, he’s driven by hope and love.
But Amy carries on. “That’s why I was so surprised when he asked me to come by. I thought, that girl must mean the world to him.”
My chest tightens. Sid and I have skirted naming our feelings for each other. Maybe that’s silly. I don’t think it’s possible to have “casual sex” while married, so we clearly mean something to each other. The guy carted a couch home for me on the basis of nothing but one off-hand comment. It’s obvious he’s in deep.
You’ve clearly got a lot of trauma. I have no interest in dealing with that.
He told me not to believe what he said that night—but I can’t stop proving that I’m screwed up. If he’s begging Amy to deal with me instead, doesn’t that show he knew his own mind all the way back then?
I never should have slept with him. Not the first time and definitely not the next. Why the hell did I think things would be better if I slept with him?
“Anyway…” Amy stammers awkwardly. “Maybe he is the common factor between us, but I would still like to be friends. Anyone he loves is worth knowing.”
“Don’t say that.” I cannot imagine this conversation going any worse, though she does keep thinking up new ways to top herself. “If that was true, he would say it himself.”
“I mean… I think he probably—”
