At Peace
Page 126
“Kate and Dane are at a movie. Keira is at Costa’s with Heather’s family,” I informed him, he nodded but made no comment so I went on to ask, “You hungry?”
“Could eat.”
“Have a taste for anything?”
His eyes got intense and one side of his mouth went up in a grin, a new look, one that made my legs wobble.
I ignored my legs wobbling and prompted him to focus, “For food.”
He let me go and muttered, “Steak.”
“We don’t have steak,” I told him.
“I’ll go out and get some,” he replied, picking up my mail and beginning to sift through it.
“I’ll make a quick list and go with you,” I told him and he again didn’t speak as I went to the fridge and got the pad of paper with the magnet on the back that was on the fridge door then I opened the junk drawer and got a pen.
I was scratching down items to go with steak when Joe spoke.
“You need to call your bank and I’ll give you Lindy’s number so you can arrange to transfer your direct debits for the mortgage to my account.”
My head came up and my surprised eyes went to him.
“What?” I asked.
He threw my mail down and turned to me, not answering my question but instead saying, “Utilities too. Lindy’ll handle it.”
“What?” I repeated.
“Mortgage and utilities to my accounts,” Joe answered and I changed my question.
“Why?”
“Why?” Joe repeated.
“Yes, um… why?”
“Live here, buddy,” Joe answered.
“Yes, but, that’s –”
Joe cut me off. “Pay my way.”
I shook my head with confusion then I got it and said, “Okay, I’m cool with that but you can just give me a percentage, a quarter is fair.”
“Pay your way too.”
I blinked, back to confused. “I don’t understand.”
Joe leaned a hip to the counter and he studied me before asking, “What don’t you understand?”
“Paying my way. I mean, that’s generous but unnecessary. And it’s really unnecessary to change the direct debits for the mortgage and utilities for just a couple of months.”
Joe’s eyebrows went up and his face darkened before he asked softly, “A couple of months?”
“Yes, if you want to contribute while you’re stayin’, I’m happy for you to do that. But you don’t have to pay it all and we don’t have to switch the direct debits because I’ll only have to switch them back and that’s a pain in the ass.”
“While I’m stayin’?” Joe asked, he was studying me even closer and he was beginning to look a little scary.
“Yes, while you’re stayin’, until your house gets renovated.”
“Sellin’ the house once it’s done, Vi, told you that.”
“Yes, well…” I trailed off because it dawned on me rather belatedly that if he was selling his house that would mean he was moving, not living next door anymore. Then it hit me that he had a place in Florida and I wondered if that was where he was moving which meant long distance relationship or, even worse, an end to “us”.
And if it was Florida that would mean an end he already knew before he even moved in.
On that thought, my mood swung straight back to unpredictable and I asked somewhat sharply, “Where are you goin’ after the house is renovated?”
“Not goin’ anywhere.”
“But if you’re selling –”
“I’m staying here.”
“Yes, but, then your house will be sold and fall is coming, winter’s after that. Are you going to Florida?”
Joe put a hand to the counter and leaned slightly toward me. “Vi, stick with me, yeah? I’m staying here.”
He was getting impatient but then again so was I.
Not to mention I wasn’t all that thrilled with him being patronizing.
“Yes, I know that, Joe. But what about after? You said you spent the winter in Florida. Is that where you’re heading?”
“No, I’m staying here.”
“For how long?” I asked.
“Jesus. For long enough to pay the f**king mortgage and utilities,” he answered, losing patience. “How long’s that say to you I’m stayin’?”
I stared at him, uncomprehending then I comprehended and my mouth dropped open.
Joe noticed and said with mild but undeniable sarcasm, “That’s it, baby, I see it’s penetrated.”
I was moving from impatient to angry, as well as still confused with just a hint of afraid, a volatile combination.
“You’re moving in?”
I watched as his eyebrows snapped together before he said, “I’m already in.”
“Yes, for two months,” I returned.
“No, for good,” he shot back.
I shook my head, stunned at this news and said, “I didn’t agree to that.”
“I didn’t exactly give you a choice, seein’ as you were playin’ games, f**kin’ another guy and I needed to stake my claim. I did, I’m here, I’m stayin’.”
The confused and afraid slid away, the angry snapped right into place.
“What did you just say?” I whispered.
“You heard me.”
“I wasn’t f**king Mike,” I snapped.
“Right,” he replied, the sarcasm less mild this time.
“I wasn’t!” My voice was rising.
Joe’s voice didn’t rise, it got lower which was even scarier. “He was caught on your hook. I’ve had a fair taste of you, Vi, man only gets that caught if he’s had a taste.”
I could not believe him.
I planted my hands on my h*ps and retorted, “Yes, Joe, he had a taste. That’s all he had.”
Joe’s face went full-on scary when he returned, “I’ll say it once, buddy, not a good idea to tell me about that shit.”
“We were over!”
“We’ve never been over, we started when you begged me to f**k you and we’ve never been f**king over.”
“You broke it off with me twice!” Yes, my voice was definitely rising.
“Not twice, it was you who tried to end it the second time.”
“I did end it.”
“Not even close.”
“We were over!” I repeated.
“We weren’t f**kin’ over.”
“Could eat.”
“Have a taste for anything?”
His eyes got intense and one side of his mouth went up in a grin, a new look, one that made my legs wobble.
I ignored my legs wobbling and prompted him to focus, “For food.”
He let me go and muttered, “Steak.”
“We don’t have steak,” I told him.
“I’ll go out and get some,” he replied, picking up my mail and beginning to sift through it.
“I’ll make a quick list and go with you,” I told him and he again didn’t speak as I went to the fridge and got the pad of paper with the magnet on the back that was on the fridge door then I opened the junk drawer and got a pen.
I was scratching down items to go with steak when Joe spoke.
“You need to call your bank and I’ll give you Lindy’s number so you can arrange to transfer your direct debits for the mortgage to my account.”
My head came up and my surprised eyes went to him.
“What?” I asked.
He threw my mail down and turned to me, not answering my question but instead saying, “Utilities too. Lindy’ll handle it.”
“What?” I repeated.
“Mortgage and utilities to my accounts,” Joe answered and I changed my question.
“Why?”
“Why?” Joe repeated.
“Yes, um… why?”
“Live here, buddy,” Joe answered.
“Yes, but, that’s –”
Joe cut me off. “Pay my way.”
I shook my head with confusion then I got it and said, “Okay, I’m cool with that but you can just give me a percentage, a quarter is fair.”
“Pay your way too.”
I blinked, back to confused. “I don’t understand.”
Joe leaned a hip to the counter and he studied me before asking, “What don’t you understand?”
“Paying my way. I mean, that’s generous but unnecessary. And it’s really unnecessary to change the direct debits for the mortgage and utilities for just a couple of months.”
Joe’s eyebrows went up and his face darkened before he asked softly, “A couple of months?”
“Yes, if you want to contribute while you’re stayin’, I’m happy for you to do that. But you don’t have to pay it all and we don’t have to switch the direct debits because I’ll only have to switch them back and that’s a pain in the ass.”
“While I’m stayin’?” Joe asked, he was studying me even closer and he was beginning to look a little scary.
“Yes, while you’re stayin’, until your house gets renovated.”
“Sellin’ the house once it’s done, Vi, told you that.”
“Yes, well…” I trailed off because it dawned on me rather belatedly that if he was selling his house that would mean he was moving, not living next door anymore. Then it hit me that he had a place in Florida and I wondered if that was where he was moving which meant long distance relationship or, even worse, an end to “us”.
And if it was Florida that would mean an end he already knew before he even moved in.
On that thought, my mood swung straight back to unpredictable and I asked somewhat sharply, “Where are you goin’ after the house is renovated?”
“Not goin’ anywhere.”
“But if you’re selling –”
“I’m staying here.”
“Yes, but, then your house will be sold and fall is coming, winter’s after that. Are you going to Florida?”
Joe put a hand to the counter and leaned slightly toward me. “Vi, stick with me, yeah? I’m staying here.”
He was getting impatient but then again so was I.
Not to mention I wasn’t all that thrilled with him being patronizing.
“Yes, I know that, Joe. But what about after? You said you spent the winter in Florida. Is that where you’re heading?”
“No, I’m staying here.”
“For how long?” I asked.
“Jesus. For long enough to pay the f**king mortgage and utilities,” he answered, losing patience. “How long’s that say to you I’m stayin’?”
I stared at him, uncomprehending then I comprehended and my mouth dropped open.
Joe noticed and said with mild but undeniable sarcasm, “That’s it, baby, I see it’s penetrated.”
I was moving from impatient to angry, as well as still confused with just a hint of afraid, a volatile combination.
“You’re moving in?”
I watched as his eyebrows snapped together before he said, “I’m already in.”
“Yes, for two months,” I returned.
“No, for good,” he shot back.
I shook my head, stunned at this news and said, “I didn’t agree to that.”
“I didn’t exactly give you a choice, seein’ as you were playin’ games, f**kin’ another guy and I needed to stake my claim. I did, I’m here, I’m stayin’.”
The confused and afraid slid away, the angry snapped right into place.
“What did you just say?” I whispered.
“You heard me.”
“I wasn’t f**king Mike,” I snapped.
“Right,” he replied, the sarcasm less mild this time.
“I wasn’t!” My voice was rising.
Joe’s voice didn’t rise, it got lower which was even scarier. “He was caught on your hook. I’ve had a fair taste of you, Vi, man only gets that caught if he’s had a taste.”
I could not believe him.
I planted my hands on my h*ps and retorted, “Yes, Joe, he had a taste. That’s all he had.”
Joe’s face went full-on scary when he returned, “I’ll say it once, buddy, not a good idea to tell me about that shit.”
“We were over!”
“We’ve never been over, we started when you begged me to f**k you and we’ve never been f**king over.”
“You broke it off with me twice!” Yes, my voice was definitely rising.
“Not twice, it was you who tried to end it the second time.”
“I did end it.”
“Not even close.”
“We were over!” I repeated.
“We weren’t f**kin’ over.”
