Chapter 14. Fisher
It could be too early to call, and the last thing I want to do is jinx it, but I think Indy and I seem to be having an easier time. Things have been less tense in general ever since I came home to her and Sage taking down the lattice on the side of the house a few nights back. I woke up feeling lighter today, too, though that’s less easy to pinpoint or explain. All I know is it’s the first time I woke up feeling excited by the prospect of cooking something, even had a few simple ideas I was keen to experiment with.
It was still dark outside when I made my way into the kitchen and started brewing things like a mad scientist. A few hours later, I’d seen Sage’s silhouette in the distance and decided I needed her feedback right there and then, tripping out of the house with my arms loaded down.
I’m sure I’ll need to be firmer with self-control as far as Sage is concerned. Between the kiss yesterday and the sounds she made a little bit ago trying some of my food, I’m in danger of growing addicted to being near.
Indy asked for Freya’s favorite chicken satay last night, and this morning when she woke up, she asked if I’d make her a spinach-and-bacon omelet. Having specific requests was so refreshing that it was a struggle not to act overeager about it both times.
We’ve got a little over a week until I’m scheduled to start working with the contractors over at Starhopper, the same time Indy has to begin summer school, so it feels like I’ve got to make the most of it now.
“Anything you want to do today?” I ask her while I finish cleaning up the kitchen. Amazing how much day there’s been this morning, when it’s not even 9:00 A.M. Maybe this is another point for small towns and that whole slower-way-of-life thing.
Indy gives me a tense look as she pushes back from the breakfast bar. “I actually made plans with Sam and some of his friends,” she tells me.
Something slips in my brain and lands flat on its imaginary ass.
“Oh—uh, all right,” I say. Then, more uneasily, “Probably need to ask first, next time, right? I mean, you did pull that whole stunt the other night.”
“Stunt?”
“Not communicating with me and staying out past your curfew?”
“I didn’t know that was my curfew, and I just communicated my plans with you for today.” She says this with all the inflection of the Addams Family girl.
“Indy—” My phone starts to ring, and when I see Carlie’s name, I hold up a finger to ask Indy to wait. She shoves her cell in her pocket and starts heading toward the door in one swift movement, and I simply give up for the time being.
I answer, infusing the greeting with a dismal amount of cheer. “Hey, Carl.”
“Who’d you piss off?” she asks.
I take a wild guess. “Uhhh, you? By the sound of it?” But also Indy, that Martha lady, myself.
She blows a staticky sigh through the phone.
“We just got notification that our permit has been suspended until September. Apparently, there was a new petition.”
Martha. “What reason did they give?”
“They didn’t. They said we didn’t pass an inspection step, but now we can’t move forward until we can get them back out to pass us, which of course they claim they won’t do until September,” she says. “I had to do my own digging and threatening to find out the real reason.”
I rub at my temples. “What do you need me to do?” I ask.
“I need you,” she says as gently as I know her to be capable of, “to please make nice. See if there is any way around it. I’m out a huge chunk of change on this one, Fisher. I’ve got a fucking stargazing tower there, for Chrissakes!” she huffs. “I don’t want to lose two months of potential progress. I know you were supposed to have a few weeks to settle in and relax over there, but in light of this latest development, I’m hoping you can help sooner. I’d really love for this thing to be done before their festival so we can capitalize on that business.”
If I fail at this, too, before I’ve even had the chance to begin… I can’t. I can feel Indy just starting to get comfortable. She likes going next door to visit the animals, and we are finally making progress in our dynamic, too. I’m not going to let my shortcomings or some bored town on a power trip get in the way. I scrap the remaining fragment of my pride.
“I’ll figure it out,” I say. “I know who to ask for help.”
I grab the rest of the soup from this morning and start the march over to Sage’s, missing a step when I spot something odd in the distance. Along the pasture fence stand Bud the horse, Sable the dog, and Legoless the cat. The cat sits perched on the horse’s back, the dog at his feet—all three staring in the same direction.
The closer I get, the more noise I hear coming from the area in question. I let out a surprised laugh when I overhear a string of curses so explicit they’d make a line cook blush.
“Sage?” I round the corner to find her half crouched and lunging around like Gollum. She whips in a circle, revealing a dust-covered, sweat-streaked face. A wet suit hangs down from the top half of her body, shoulders and chest an angry red. “What… is going on?”
I jump when Indy appears at my side from out of nowhere and says, “She’s been like that since I got here.”
“Jesus. What are you doing here?!”
“Waiting for Sam.” One of the geese lets out a noise by her feet.
“That thing supposed to be out?” I ask.
She rolls her eyes slightly. “He doesn’t go anywhere far from me. It’s fine.”
I turn back to Sage and find her chaotically hopping around, aggressively stomping down dirt in various holes. “Do you have any idea what’s happening here?” I ask Indy.
“She just barked gopher at me and then went back to this,” she says.
“I’m gonna gas this motherfucker!” Sage cries. “No. I’m going to lure it out and trap it live. Draw and quarter it and leave its body on display as a warning for the next ones!”
Indy and I share a commiserative, frightened look. “Ind, why don’t you go wait for Sam on the front porch,” I say warily.
“Good idea.”
When Indy’s a safe distance away, I approach a still-feral Sage. “Did I hear something about a gopher?”
“Yes,” she snaps, but her voice warbles dangerously. She straightens with a palm to her forehead and surveys the ruined garden area. “I already put one of the gas bombs down that hole, but I don’t think I put it in right, or maybe it wasn’t deep enough, because the smoke just came right back up.” Oh no. Her voice has that high, strained tightness in it that always signals crying. “You don’t understand, Fisher. It got like—more than half of my tubers. It annihilated them. They were so hard to grow, and I was finally doing it!” Fuck. The first hiccupping sob breaks free, and her words all start to run together. “I want it dead!” The opening tear rolls down. “I want its whole family dead! I want them to suffer and I want pain, dammit. So much pain!”
My hands float around my sides, unsure what comfort to offer or how to make the crying ebb. But then she buries her face in her palms and steps into my chest, bumping against me right there in the center with her fingers squished between us, and an inexorable laugh tumbles out of me in surprise.
I’ve known plenty of people who wear their hearts on their sleeves, but a handful of interactions is all it’s taken for me to determine that this woman carries hers in her fist, ready to hand it off at any given time.
I rub a few circles against her back and try to ignore the fact that it’s practically bare other than her bikini string. “Shhh. Easy, killer,” I say into the top of her hair. “I never would’ve guessed you were this bloodthirsty.”
“I don’t feel great about it!” she bawls.
“I couldn’t tell.” I smother a grin. “Still, before you resort to medieval torture and execution, could we maybe try something?”
She steps away with a sniffle and meets my eyes. The crying has turned hers a beryl blue.
“What did you have in mind?” she asks, swiping at a rogue tear, already back to business.
“Well, first… Shit.”