“Getting asked for help isn’t the only thing that makes me want to punch people in the face,” I noted.
Chris smiled nonchalantly, despite the threat in my eyes. “And that’s part of your charm, Kerrigan. Don’t ever change.”
I flinched when he patted me on the shoulder, then ordered another drink from the bartender. “Why would she ask you for help?”
Chris drained his previous drink, then pushed the glass away with a satisfied sigh. “She knew you and I were friends. Honestly, I thought it showed she had a good pair on her shoulders.”
I turned in my stool, now seriously considering punching him. “You were looking at her tits?”
“What? No. Pair of brain hemispheres.” He paused, then nodded a little to himself. “Yeah, I can see how that wasn’t the clearest expression. My bad. But think about it. She was willing to jump through the hoops required to get a hold of me and desperate enough to grasp at straws. The girl really does care about you.”
“For now. Maybe.” Inwardly, I cursed. I had promised myself I wouldn’t reveal any of my doubts or real thoughts to Chris when I agreed to come. I had just hoped his usual lunatic ravings would distract me for a few hours.
Sure enough, I could see in his face that Chris was dissecting the few syllables I’d carelessly tossed his way. “Okay,” he said finally. He swirled his drink theatrically, then tapped the rim with his index finger as he chose his words. “So you are worried all you can get from the nanny is temporary. Is that it?”
“I didn’t come here for a therapy session, Rose. Save it.”
“And,” he said, pressing on as if he hadn’t heard me. “You probably also think she’d be better off with a normal human. Like one who occasionally smiles and sometimes does nice things. Granted, yes, she probably would. But for some reason she has decided she wants you, flaws and all. That means it’s not your call to decide what would be best for her.” Chris tapped his head, leaning in. “You get that? It doesn’t matter if you think she deserves better. You’re what she picked. If she goes to the fanciest steak house in the country and orders a well-done hamburger patty on white bread, that’s what she orders. Doesn’t matter if you wanted her to go for the filet.”
As much as I hated to admit anything Chris said carried some sense, I grudgingly saw the point he was making. “Assuming I give you that point, it still doesn’t solve the temporary issue.”
“No. That’s called being a fucking human being, doofus. Guarantees only come with power tools, and that’s if you pay extra. Also, only if you don’t lose the damn piece of paper they give you, which is totally bullshit. Because who really can keep track of that kind of thing for five years?”
“Did you have a point?”
“Yes. Every relationship has an expiration date, and you don’t get to know if it ends because of a fiery car crash or because she can’t stand that little moaning noise you make when you eat chocolate.”
“I don’t...” I frowned. “I don’t moan when I eat.”
“No,” Chris said, waving me off. “That was one of my examples. Bullshit too, if you ask me. But what’s important is that you find someone you’re willing to risk everything for even for a temporary ride. If she’s the right person, you’ll say, ‘fuck it,’ and give it all you’ve got, even if it could be over tomorrow. At least that’s how I see it.”
I ran my tongue across my teeth, hating that of all people, Chris Rose was the one who was managing to change my mind. I refused to give him the full credit, though. The real factor was the image of Nola that kept popping up in my head. I could still see her standing there when I’d left after the elaborate dinner she’d planned. I could see her scurrying around in the kitchen, desperate to win my forgiveness. And every passing day had made me feel like more of a monster for walking out on her, even if I thought I was doing what was best for Ben.
I got up, grabbing my jacket.
“You going to go get her?” Chris asked with a knowing wink.
“No,” I said. “I’m going to the bathroom.”
Then I may or may not look into getting a pair of tickets to Florida for Ben and I.37NolaI used to think being poor was the most stressful state of existence a person could occupy. Every time you wanted to purchase something, you needed to look at the thirty dollars in your bank account and try to project it out until your next paycheck. You needed to figure out if that box of dry noodles was going to cut into your funds for something essential you weren’t thinking of, like toilet paper or the water bill.