Page 118 of Then You Happened
Interesting that we had a giant fight about my not wanting to talk to him about my finances and now he’s avoiding telling me about whatever is bothering him. Pot, meet Kettle.
“Got it.” I turn back to the counter. “Sorry I bugged you.”
His sigh sounds like a curse when he emits it. His voice softens. “Don’t be that way.”
“Be what way?” I counter. “Wanting to know more about the man I’m more or less living with? I mean . . . I know you like your coffee black, your steaks medium-well, and you aren’t ashamed that you like to cuddle, but that’s about it. You had a dad you could never please so you left home, only to regret some of the reasons too late. You have a sister, who puts worry in your eyes more often than not, and a brother, who passed away and you don’t talk about.” My hands grip the edge of the counter as I struggle to control my emotions and the feeling of rejection hearing all of this awakens in me. “Is it sad that Cory probably knows more about your life off this ranch than I do?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Yeah, well, you’ve seen my life, right? Complicated is all I know.”
And without another word, I slam the pail down on the counter and stalk past him.
I don’t know if I’m upset or relieved that he doesn’t grab my arm to set things straight.
That he doesn’t let me in more.
45
TATE
“Grab your camera. We’re going for a walk,” Jack says when I answer the knock on my front door.
“I don’t want to.”
“Grab your camera, Tate. Or I will. Either that, or I’ll toss you over my shoulder and carry you across the field. Everyone will notice and ask questions. Your choice, Knox.” His voice isn’t warm, but it is
n’t frosty either. We haven’t talked since our little tiff earlier, so I’m not surprised.
I glare at him. The last thing I want to do is obey and, yet, something urges me to believe that he’s asking more than demanding. That if I dug my heels in and refused to go, he would relent and leave me be. That’s the only thing that allows me the permission to do what I really want, which is to go with him.
Within minutes, I have my camera and Gracie and I are trailing slightly behind him. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of thinking I want to be with him.
When I actually do.
We walk across the property as the sun begins to set. Dragonflies dance around us in the warm evening air, and I can’t help but stop to snap images of their wings glistening in the light like glitter floating in the air. Jack keeps walking when I stop, Gracie bounding beside him as if she doesn’t understand the discord between us. Every once in a while, I aim the camera his way and snap a few shots.
His hand petting her head as the dandelions blow out of focus in the distance behind him.
Click.
His untucked red T-shirt against the starkness of his denim.
Click.
The strong line of his nose, the rough cut of his jaw, the hard set of his chin as he waits for me to catch up.
Click.
We walk in silence until we hit the edge of the pond. Jack takes a seat and stares at the ripple of the water as birds and more dragonflies dance across it to grab a drink.
I listen to nature’s symphony of birds chirping, trees rustling in the breeze, Gracie panting, and the hum of everything else around me. The longer I listen, the less I sense the tension between us.
Maybe we just needed to step away.
Maybe we just needed to distance ourselves from the stress of it all.
“Jack?”
