Page 60 of Puck Me Twice
“You have been avoiding me,” she scolds.
“I’ve been busy,” I deflect.
“You have never been too busy for me.”
With a sigh, I hold out the bread. “It’s complicated. Do you have time for some tea?”
She scowls. “If you insist.”
As she fills the kettle and pulls two mugs out of the cabinet, she waves her hand toward the bread box, where a loaf of seeded pumpernickel is waiting.
“Make a sandwich,” she says. “You look hungry.”
Shaking my head, I do as she says, pulling out butter, sliced meat, and cheese. I’m used to this. She’s been feeding me since the moment we met when I bought the place. I’m not sure how or why she realized I was starving for more than simple human contact. Though she’s from Germany where I am Swedish, we both understand how it is to be a foreigner in a new country, adapting to everything new at once. She’s my home, in a way the building I live in is just a house. I’ll surely miss her when I have to leave Boston, whenever that may be.
As she requested, I make a sandwich. And then I make a second, and a third, until we have a plate full of open-faced sandwiches on freshly sliced bread.
“Is Brigitte here?” I ask as the kettle whistles, and she pulls it off the stove. I bring the two cups to the table, and she brings the kettle, pouring water.
Hildy shakes her head. “She’s at the university.”
Her niece is in her final year of medical school, and in her spare time, she comes across the street to take care of Rupert. When Hildy realized I needed a bird watcher, she organized for Brigitte to stay at my place across the street and take care of my bird—and the house—while I was out.
“Did you call her?” Hildy asks, and it takes me a second to realize she means Brigitte.
“No. Should I?”
“Aren’t you looking for her?”
I shake my head. “I thought I might need a woman’s perspective.”
“Oh?” Her eyebrows go up. “On what?”
“How to make Vanessa not need more space.”
She pauses. “And who is Vanessa?”
“My girlfriend?” I think she still is, at least…
She frowns.
“What?”
“I rather thought…” She trails off.
“Tell me.”
“I always thought one day you and Brigitte would…” She waves her hands. “You two could…”
I blink. “We would what?”
Hildy sighs. “That you two would date.”
My eyes widen. “Me? And Brigitte?”
“Yes.” She stirs more sugar into her tea. “I had hopes… but you never seemed to act upon it.”
“Brigitte is your niece.” My whole body feels numb. How could she ever think I would be remotely interested in crossing that boundary?
