14. Bennett
FOURTEEN
BENNETT
I can still feel Marley’s touch and breath on my arm as I putter around the living room fluffing pillows that the dogs will only flatten in a matter of hours. I’m being a bit more aggressive with this task than required, but I’m trying to take my anger out on something. The thought of Marley being in the midst of such turmoil is doing unexpected things to me. I was worried about her getting into the bathtub on her own, for Christ’s sake. No chance of being blown up, shot, or hit with a fucking Molotov cocktail. Holy shit. I drop onto the couch and let my head fall into my hands. I feel a brief sense of relief that Marley will be long gone before she goes back to work, and I’ll forget all about her by then. I don’t even understand why I’m feeling so intense about her safety so soon after meeting her. This cannot be normal. I need to get out more.
Thankfully, when she calls to tell me she’s ready to come down, I’ve calmed a bit. However, judging by the joy I feel knowing I’m about to touch her again, I don’t know how easy forgetting about her is going to be. She’ll forget about me easily enough; her days are a bit more intense than mine are. She’s probably bored to tears here. A decade ago, I would never have believed someone if they had told me my life would be spent in the middle of the woods, running a dog rescue all alone. I climb the stairs back up to the first person to share this house with me since I moved back. I’ve honestly been fine with being alone. I got to do things I wanted, not do things that others wanted me to do. But having Marley here makes me wonder if I can live for myself and share my life with someone else.
Twenty minutes later we’re lounging on the porch swing. Marley is sitting with her ankles in my lap, head tipped against the high back, eyes closed. I’ve got my hand resting on her shin, my thumb drawing invisible patterns across it. This could be every afternoon, I think as my other hand holds a book I’m pretending to read open. I’m hyper-aware of her leg beneath my hand, and my eyes keep wandering back to her face.
“Good book?” she asks, one eyebrow quirked when she catches me looking over at her for the tenth time.
I clear my throat and feel my face heat. “It’s fine.”
“What’s it about?”
“Um…” I flip the book over to remind myself. “Aliens and stuff.”
“Aliens and stuff?” Her eyebrow arches impossibly higher as she watches me. “Sounds riveting.”
“Yeah, well…” I’m very obviously flustered. “Do you want to watch a movie?” I ask, lifting her legs so I can escape. She’s smiling at me, and it reminds me a bit of how she was looking at me in my dream. “Do you want me to kiss you, Marley?” I think about how she looked down at me in the bathroom. It was a look that would have had me dropping to my knees before her if I hadn’t already been on them. Then the way she felt in my arms. The way I’d catch her looking at me and how she never looked away guiltily.
“What movie?” she asks, breaking me out of my reverie .
I shrug. “You pick,” I say, bending to lift her even though we both know she can hop on one leg.
Right before we reach the door, both her hands cup my face, stopping me in my tracks. She’s looking at me with a bit of wonderment, and I can’t think of why.
“What?”
“I am just wondering what would have happened if it had been Nancy who found me.”
The thought makes me laugh. “She would have found a way to build a sled and feed you on the trip back.”
“Hmm. The trip would have been made better with a snack.” She laughs, and I join in because it keeps me from doing something inappropriate, like kissing her.
This is all temporary, I remind myself. Her life is not here, no matter how much I wish it were.