Page 121 of Down Bad

This woman could have a twenty-minute conversation with a parking meter before realizing no one’s listening.

After a minute of the silence I wanted so bad, I’m suddenly so sick of shoving everyone away. The silence out here is starting to become as crushing as the noise in my head. “Maybe some families are better off staying apart,” I mumble.

She eyes me. “Jesus, what’d your family do? Kill your cat?”

“Didn’t have a cat.” I cross my arms over my knees, looking off. “Had a fish tank.”

“Me too. Well, fishbowl. Betta fish. ‘Til the dang cat got to it, speaking of cats. Terrible.”

“Just saying, if loved ones wanna get away from you, maybe you should let them.”

“Why?”

“Because if they wanna leave so bad, why stop them? Your life’s probably better off without ‘em. Why fight for someone who won’t fight for you?”

“Hmm. Good point.” She nods slowly. “People can be selfish sometimes. Family’s sure no exception. Guess some of us have a harder time letting go than others. My brother’s one of them.” She nudges me. “So who won’t fight for you? Mind if I ask?”

I look at her, annoyed.

“What?” she throws back. “I’m only in town another day or so. Telling me your secrets is like throwing it into a fire. They burn into the wind with me. Come on. Open up. Let’s have a moment. You mentioned family. Your mom? Dad?”

“Shut up.”

“Just let me therapy you. I minored in psychology. Might have a pearl or two.”

“I don’t need pearls. I need to learn how the fuck to become the guy who plants the flowers instead of mowing over them.”

She snorts at me. “That a metaphor?”

I don’t answer, looking away.

She leans into me, seriously fucking invading my space. “You know, sometimes, old things need to get ‘mowed over’ to make the room for new things to grow.”

I keep seeing that last look Wyatt gave me in the car.

He was mad. Actually mad. Telling me off.

I’d probably have found it hot had he not also hit too close to home with his words.

Have I always been the guy who destroys pretty things?

Could that be why my mom didn’t stick around?

“See?” says the woman, mistaking my silence for being struck by her wisdom. “Told you I’ve got some pearls. So tell me more. I’ll get you straightened out. What the hell’s got you out here? Hiding from someone?”

“No.”

“Did your feet catch fire in there?”

I roll my eyes.

“Lady troubles?”

Suddenly I’m done with strangers striking up conversations, so I get up and decide to just head back home.

“Boy troubles?”

I stop.