Page 70 of Slow Hands Cowboy

“I just want everyone to hold hands and be friends,” he said dryly.

“No, seriously.”

“Seriously? I... I think we need more resources for families in need. I think we need something like I’ve seen in other places. Food pantries that are set up like grocery stores and clothing stores so that parents can shop for their kids, receive charity while saving themselves some dignity. So the kids don’t feel like they’re just getting hand-me-downs out of a bag. I know that it’s like splitting hairs to some people, but as somebody who grew up receiving that kind of charity, I promise you it’s not really splitting hairs. I promise you it’s... A big deal. When your clothes come in a garbage bag, and you have to dig through them to get them out, when kids make fun of you for being poor, you remember that. That what you’re wearing was someone else’s garbage.”

His sincerity took her off guard.

“Well, I like that idea. It’s definitely something that we could work on as a community. My dad owns a couple of buildings in town, and some of them don’t have anything in them right now. We could make stores out of them, I think.”

“Do you think your dad would be up for that?”

“Maybe. I’ll have to see. But I do like the idea. And I appreciate your perspective, because I never would have thought of that.”

“Yeah, it’s one of those things. Comes from personal experience.”

“Of course it does. I completely understand that. I hate that people made you feel that way.” She looked down. “I hate that I was one of the people that...”

“To be fair to you, you never made fun of me about any of that stuff. You were just snotty.”

“I was afraid of you,” she said, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she could stop them.

“Were you?”

“I... I was attracted to you, Walker, and I knew that I couldn’t be.”

“Well now. There’s the truth of it.”

“It is the truth of it. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I made you suffer for my own discomfort.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “But you have no idea how much I felt like I was only acceptable because I was proving that I was good. I was proving that I wasn’t like my mother.”

“Yeah. And liking me was going to put you in that category.”

“Yes. Of course it was.”

“Humans are fascinating. We run around hurting each other, trying to avoid being hurt. Putting people down because we’re trying to make ourselves feel better.”

“That fascinates you?”

“It does. Because you know we could just not. But we won’t. The shape of the way that we shame each other might change, but we’re always going to do it. Over what? Made up stuff. The fact that we’ve chosen to believe that the kinds of clothes you wear say something about you, that a big house gives you more value.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“No. But then, you’ve always had those things.”

“It’s true. I have. You’re not wrong, it’s hard for me to speak on that because I’m privileged that way. But I don’t think it makes me better than anybody. I never really thought that I was better than you. I was just afraid of what other people would say.”

“Funny, right? That now you need people to gossip about us?”

“Is that why you were willing to help me?”

“I’m not going to lie, I’m taking a little bit of perverse pleasure in that, yeah.”

“I guess you wouldn’t be human if you didn’t.”

“That I wouldn’t be. Salmon’s done.”

He dished the fillets onto a plate, and added the corn, and some green salad. Then he set the plates out on the table, and went inside for a moment, returning with a bottle of wine and two glasses.

They had been on a dinner date. But somehow, this felt a whole lot more intimate.