Page 50 of Lovely Darkness

“Upstairs. Sleeping now.”

I nod and he joins me at the window. “Got something on your mind?”

“I do.”

“You wanna go walk in the gardens with me and we can discuss?”

“Sure.”

Nick and I go outside and the heat hits us both at the same time because we suck in air. I don’t know why people do this—especially people like me, who barely understand any kind of weather other than the stifling heat—but they all do.

We head into the gardens without speaking, but once we’re on the pea-pebbled path, Nick says, “Where’s McKay?”

“Is that a general ‘where’s McKay’ or do you need him to be here for the conversation?”

“Just general.”

“He’s in his workshop.” I nod my head to the big old barn. “He’s making something for the new house across the lake. Probably a gate. Or maybe a sign. Something metal, for sure.”

“Oh. Nice. He seems… handy.”

I chuckle. “Oh, he’s handy all right.”

I think Nick takes this the wrong way because he says, “So you two are… what? Lovers?”

And I don’t really care that his mind went there first. I like it, actually. “Among other things.”

“It’s one of those… ‘it’s complicated’ relationships?”

“Nah. Not really. It’s just unique. We fuck, we fight, we eat dinner together. Why are you asking?”

“No reason. Just curious about the guy.”

I shoot Nick a look. “You don’t need to be curious about McKay.”

Nick puts his hands up. “Got it. McKay who?”

I chuckle and we continue our walk. It’s odd that I find Nick Tate so easy to talk to. But odd in an expected way. Odd in a good way. “What’s on your mind, Nick?”

“Indie.”

I scan the area, looking for her, but she’s not around. My tone changes, becomes a little bit darker and more guarded. “What about her?” And I hate that. I really do. But how can I ever love her the way I used to back when she was small?

I don’t think I can.

I think it’s over.

“Is there any possible way,” Nick says, “that you could keep her away from Wendy?”

I sigh. It’s a long one, too. “If I had any control over Indie at all, I wouldn’t be plotting her ultimate demise.”

“Wow. You Southern people really like colorful expressions, don’t you?”

“Something wrong with how I talk?”

“No. I find it a little bit charming, actually. However, I never quite know if you’re fucking with me or being straight.”

“This is too true. We like beatin’ our way around a bush, Nick. Keeps conversation polite and people on their toes.”