Page 147 of Merry Christmas, You Filthy Animal
“Is that a thing?” she asks.
“Yeah. It’s how you keep your forest thriving. You have to take down the dead trees, make room for new. We get all our fireplace wood from cleaning the property. You have to renew the space to keep it growing, something you’ll have to do on your land. It probably hasn’t ever been cleaned out and could really use it.”
“Oh, I had no idea.”
I wink at her. “I can teach you. As for dislikes, same as you, lying is not my favorite thing. Also, I hate when the big pick on the little, or anyone picks on anyone for that matter. When I had more spare time on my hands, I’d help out at the school with after-school activities, and I found that there still are a lot ofbullies out there, and I hated it. I made sure to point it out and teach those kids a lesson.”
“You helped out at the school? That’s really cute.”
“Yeah, there are days I miss it and days that I don’t. Like when the kids come to the farm and I teach them about forestry, I really miss working with them. But then they go and spit on a tree because they think it’s funny, and it makes me want to punt them across the yard.”
She laughs. “Spit on a tree? Really?”
“Yeah, fucking punks.” I shake my head.
“Why would that even be a thing they think to do?”
“Great question. And of course they’re from out-of-town schools, so it’s not like I can address it with their parents. Instead, I just threaten them while holding an axe.”
“Oh my God, like you threaten to chop them up?”
Now it’s my turn to laugh as I shake my head. “No, I just grip my axe tightly and stare them down. They get the picture. Do it again, and they very well might be chopped up.”
“I bet you can be very intimidating.”
“I can. I’ve practiced the look in my mirror.”
“Have you really?”
“Oh yeah. It’s a look I learned from my dad and perfected. You have to let these youth know that you mean business. Good thing you’re going to create an all-adult resort, because then you won’t have to deal with punk-ass kids.”
“I mean, I like children, but yeah, you’re probably right about that.”
“I like kids too, mainly my two nieces. They’re fucking adorable... when not in cutout pumpkins.”
“Heaven forbid they’re in cutout pumpkins.”
“The nerve of Cole and Storee.” I shake my head with mirth.
“The most awkward date I’ve ever had? Hmm.” Betty cutely taps her chin as she thinks about it.
Our food has been delivered and devoured. She got the fish and chips, and I got the burger. She had some of my Brussels sprouts, and I had some of her fries. It felt like we’ve been sharing meals for years.
There’s an ease when I’m around her, a comfort, like I’ve known this woman my whole life and I’m finally able to hang out with her.
Not to mention she told me when I had ketchup on my nose, and I told her when there was something in her teeth. There was no embarrassment, just laughter and gratitude. And to me, that’s a true testament to how you get along with someone.
“Well, there was this one guy that I went on a date with—he was a train conductor.”
“Like an actual train conductor?” I ask, because that’s a job you don’t hear about someone having very often.
“Well, he was one in training. And all he talked about was all the bodies he witnessed getting run over by the train.”
“Wait . . . seriously?” I ask.
She nods. “Yeah, it was depressing and disgusting, and at one point, I asked him to stop because I couldn’t take it anymore, so then he went into animals. Needless to say, there wasn’t a second date.”
“Jesus. Maybe the guy didn’t get the memo on how to properly act when on a date.”
