Page 197 of Merry Christmas, You Filthy Animal
Well, that’s easy, given all my things are still packed.
“Okay.”
I hang up the phone and then move around the cottage almost like a zombie, waiting for my uncle to rescue me. Again. I really don’t want this right now. I just want to be left alone.
When I hear Uncle Dwight pull up, I step outside the cottage with my bag and Buzz, lock up, and then head toward his car, waving at him to stay in it.
I stick my bag in the back seat and buckle up Buzz; then I take a seat on the passenger side, keeping my eyes trained forward.
“You okay?”
“Don’t really want to talk about anything.”
“Sure, I understand,” he says and then pulls out of the driveway. “But you know, I’m here if you want to talk.”
“I know,” I say, crossing my arms at my chest and staring out the window.
“It might help to talk about it.” He drives toward town.
“I know you’re trying to help, but honestly, I’m really not in the mood.”
“I understand, but . . . you know . . . maybe what he did wasn’t so bad.”
“What?” I ask, turning toward Uncle Dwight now. Has he lost his mind?
He shrugs. “Just thinking about it. It’s one thing, right? But wasn’t there... more good than bad?”
“What are you talking about? You yourself said he was a liar, a deceiver.”
“I know, but what if I was wrong?”
“What if you were wrong? What is happening? Moments ago, you were saying how he’s a horrible person and how I should stay away from him.”
“Yeah, well, sometimes we make mistakes.”
I pause, absolutely floored, because what sort of seventh circle of hell did I enter? Uncle Dwight doesn’t say nice things about Atlas. He doesn’t give him the benefit of the doubt. He doesn’t say that he might have made a mistake.
“What . . . what are you saying?”
“Listen, I know that you’re hurt and what he did wasn’t right, but do you really think, out of all the things he’s done for you, he would be doing them because he’s uninterested and just tryingto stop you from competing against his business? I mean... he went and got your tarantula.”
How does he know that?
“I really don’t know, okay? I don’t know anything. All I know is that I’m hurt and I just want... I want this holiday to be over and done with.” My throat grows tight as tears build again, attempting to fall down my cheek.
“Betty—”
“Please, don’t.”
“I want to respect you, I really do, but I also need you to have an open mind.”
I stare out the window, the town coming into view. “An open mind about what?” I ask just as someone carting a box of ornaments starts to cross the road. “Watch out,” I shout as the box spills over the road, crushing the ornaments.
Uncle Dwight swerves his car across the road, me screaming as he stops right in front of Baubles and Wrappings, knocking over the statue out front.
“Oh my God,” I say as I grip his arm, trying to steady my breath.
Someone pops out of the shop and starts shouting, directing his anger at Uncle Dwight. So he steps out of the vehicle and starts shouting back.
