Chapter 33
Ben was having trouble digesting the news that the neighborhood raccoon was trapped in his vent. As soon as Mylie realized
what happened, she’d dragged him outside and walked around to the back of the house, where sure enough, the door to the crawl
space underneath the house was standing wide open.
“I didn’t even know that was there,” Ben admitted.
“It looks like the lock broke,” Mylie replied. “I bet he pulled a duct down and crawled into it and doesn’t know how to get
back out.”
“Why would he do that?” Ben asked.
Mylie stared at him. “He’s a raccoon,” she said. “I’m not sure that he really stopped to think about it.”
Ben sighed. “So do we need to call someone?”
Mylie shook her head. “I don’t think Animal Control will do anything. But let me call Morris and ask him if he still has that
live trap. If we can scare him out of the duct, maybe we can trap him under the house.”
“What if we can’t?”
“Then your house is going to smell like dead raccoon soon.”
“Call Morris,” Ben said, wasting no time.
Ben was both relieved that he was not, in fact, losing his mind. He was, however, slightly annoyed that the stupid animal had messed up whatever might have happened with Mylie. He’d been seconds away from dragging her to the couch when the varmint started clawing at the vent again. Now, he was standing outside waiting for Morris to show up and wishing that he wasn’t.
He wanted, needed, to touch her again. Ben didn’t know how much more of this back and forth he could take. She seemed to feel the same way, and
despite the anxiety of it all, despite the alarm bells in his head, he already knew what would happen if he managed to get
her alone again. Mylie was standing close to him but not close enough to touch, as if she, too, had the same thoughts.
Morris arrived in short order carrying the live trap. He spent a good ten minutes arguing with Ben about who was going to
go under the house to place it, but in the end, Ben lost. Morris cited the fact that he had a bad hip and a case of gout in
his big toe.
It was disgusting under the house, but he managed to find the downed duct and place the live trap at the opening. He could
hear Fat Tony scurrying around up there and scooted himself out as quickly as he possibly could. He wanted to avoid a trip
to the ER and a rabies shot, something he reminded himself he would absolutely not have to worry about in Chicago.
“Do you think this will work?” he asked Morris as he heaved himself up from the ground.
“I reckon it will or it won’t,” Morris replied, shrugging.
“That’s comforting.”
“I’m sure it will be fine,” Mylie said, giving him a reassuring smile. “Fat Tony does stuff like this all the time. He got
up in someone’s attic last summer and snuck into their kitchen at night to steal food. This is pretty minor.”
“Do you want Fat Tony in your vents?” Ben asked her.
“No,” Mylie admitted. “But I don’t want anything in my vents.”
“Well,” Morris said, shoving his hands down into his pockets. “I’ll let you two kids get back to it. Let me know if this works.”
“Thanks, Morris,” Mylie said. “See you later.”
“I hope nobody tells Courtney about this,” Ben said, motioning for Mylie to follow him back around to the front of the house.
“She’ll lose her mind if a raccoon dies under my house before it sells.”
“I’m going to post signs all over town,” Mylie joked. “That way you can never sell your house and Fat Tony and I can live
in peace.”
Ben laughed and sat down on the front porch. “I need a nap.”
“You and me both,” Mylie replied.
“But first,” Ben began, shifting his body toward her. “I think we need to talk... about... whatever it is that’s going
on here.”
“Okay,” Mylie said, sitting down beside him. “What is going on here?”
“I don’t know,” Ben said. “But I know that the last time we came anywhere close to this it was ruined by me leaving. I don’t
want to ruin anything, Mylie. I don’t think I have it in me to do that again.”
“We’re adults now,” Mylie said.
“But I’m still leaving.”
Mylie loosed a breath. “Do we have to think about you leaving right now?” she asked. “Can’t we just... enjoy whatever this
is while we can?”
Ben looked at her, surprised. “Is that really what you want?”
“Yes,” Mylie replied. “I don’t want to wonder anymore about... us. I want to know.”
“I want to know, too,” Ben admitted. “I’ve always wanted to know.”
“Then let’s do it,” Mylie replied.
Ben raised an eyebrow.
“That’s not what I meant!” Mylie smacked him on his arm. “I meant, let’s try this. See where it goes for now, while you’re here. But I also think we need to be honest with each other... even if it hurts.”
Ben knew this was a bad idea. He could tell from Mylie’s face that she knew it, too. They were lying to themselves, but at
that moment, it felt too good, too right. So, he said, “I’m in.”
Mylie stood up. “I’m taking you on a date tonight,” she said.
“You are?” Ben stood up beside her, taking a step closer to her so that his hand brushed against hers.
“Yes,” Mylie replied. “Meet me on the dock at seven. I’ll bring the food and fishing poles. You bring the beer.”
“We’re going fishing?” Ben asked.
“You and me!” she called, breaking away from him and heading across the street toward her house. “Fishin’ in the dark!”