Page 74 of Merry Christmas, You Filthy Animal
“Yeah, I’m terrible at creating them, but I think they’re funny when told to me.”
“Me too. My dad is good at puns, real quick on the draw. I don’t know how he does it.”
“People like that intimidate me, because how do their minds work that fast?”
“No idea. As you could see, my mind doesn’t work unless I mouth what I’m thinking at the same time.”
He laughs. “I’m probably just one step ahead of you, because instead of thinking my thoughts to myself, I let them out in the wild, only to drive everyone around me crazy with what’s going on in my head.”
“I do that too. Makes my mom crazy. She always tells me to not speak it unless I actually mean it, but what if I have to work the nonsense out? How can I do that in my head, where it gets all garbled? It’s best to just let it all out verbally.”
“Are we the same person? Because I see it the same way. Cole hates when I let loose on my thoughts. Then again, he’s more of the quiet type and would rather sit in silence than have a conversation.”
“I get that feeling from him. Funny that he and Storee are together, because she seems outgoing.”
“Yeah, she brings it out of him. They’re perfect for each other.” He turns down the road that leads to both of our properties, a giant sign promoting Evergreen Farm on the right, reminding me of what I said.
“Um, sorry about the things I said about your farm back there. I know I apologized earlier, but it wasn’t nice of me.”
“Don’t sweat it,” he says as he passes his driveway and then turns down mine.
“I know, but I’m sorry.”
He puts the car in park and then looks over at me. “Thanks, I appreciate it.” He nods toward the cottage. “Need help getting out? I know it’s a high step.”
“No, I got it.” But I don’t reach for the door. Instead, I turn slightly toward him, a question on my mind that I can’t seem to shake. “Why are you being nice to me?”
“Why am I being nice to you?”
“Yeah, I feel like... there’s no reason to be nice to me given how I came into this town.”
He shrugs. “It’s who I am, Betty. I think maybe if you got to know me better, you’d see that.” Then he gets out of the car, moves to my side, and opens my door for me. His eyes lift up to mine, and he holds his hand out.
Feeling breathless and guilty simultaneously, I take his hand, and he helps me down. When I look up at him to thank him, I notice how much taller he is. Probably about a foot, and yet he’s not as intimidating as you’d think, given his height.
He’s gentle.
“Thank you.”
“Yup,” he says, sticking his hand in his back pocket. “Okay, uh, see you around.”
“Yeah, see you around.”
And then he takes off, getting back in his truck and pulling away.
What happened between him and Uncle Dwight? I feel like I’m missing something, because the impression Dwight gave me compared to the way Atlas really is, well, it’s confusing.
Max
Storee:Meet me in the tree house. Be there soon. Be stealth!
I glance over my shoulder, making sure no one is watching, and then I climb the ladder to the tree house that Cole and I havebeen working on for Florence. We’re almost done; we just need some wallpaper on the interior, because if we’re going to build one, we’re doing it right. And sure, she’s too young right now to be in here by herself, but when she gets a little older, it’s going to be her clubhouse, and I’m glad I could be a part of putting it together for her.
I make my way into the clubhouse and then sit up against the wall to stay out of view. It’s only a minute or so of waiting before I hear Storee approach. I hold my breath, hoping it’s her and not Cole, because I would need to do a lot of explaining if he found me in here. My brain is too maxed out to offer up any lies.
Thankfully though, Storee pokes her head up and over the side, and then climbs in.
“Is this our secret hideout?” I ask as she takes a seat in the back with me and pulls out two small bags of Crunch Tators, handing me one before also pulling out a juice box. “Wow, look at you bringing the snacks.”
