Jesus, I need to be honest.
“I was hoping you might agree to come with Shade and me to this animal sanctuary. He wants to see it and the animals. I got the idea because I had to call a place when we found the opossum in the backyard.”
“It’s a weird idea.”
“Well, they do amazing work. I looked through some of the photos and the stories. God. It’s really sad, but they try to give them happy endings and take care of them. For the ones that can’t go back to the wild, they get a safe home for life. I think that’s pretty amazing. I even cried.”
“You cried?”
“I did, and then Shade hugged me. His hugs are really, really nice. I…I think I know why your wife named him Shade. I’m sorry for thinking it was a weird name when we first met.”
“It is a weird name. That’s okay.”
Her brows squiggle together. “Now you’re being overly nice. What’s up?”
“Nothing.”
“Is that who you really are under all those gruff, I don’t give a shit, don’t talk to me layers?”
“No.”
“I think you’re lying.”
“Why do you think she named him Shade?” I’m holding my breath now, waiting to hear what she has to say.
“I guess,” she says and flushes. She looks down at her knees. “I guess it’s because it’s hot here, and the sun can be unbearable. When he hugged me, I was pretty sad about a lot of things. I guess those tears were for a bunch of reasons. They were pent up, and I couldn’t stop them. He just held me and told me it was okay to be sad and that I wouldn’t be soon, and I just kept thinking about his name and how he was like a shade to someone who is dying of heat and thirst, how he’s like this respite. This amazing, tender, loving, and wonderful shelter for all the wounds we think are never going heal. All those things we feel are never going to be okay again, and then they are. All you have to do is spend a couple of minutes with him to forget about them.”
I have to say, I’m amazed. No one has ever asked me about Shade’s name. They haven’t even thought about it beyond probably assuming it’s some new age thing we picked off a popularly strange and hip baby names list.
“That’s exactly why she named him Shade.” I’m slightly breathless all of a sudden. Breathless and speechless.
I don’t get breathless, and I always have something to say. Who is this person sitting across from me? A woman who, in just a couple of weeks, has been able to accomplish what no one else has in years. She’s seen me, and she’s seen Shade. She’s working her way past all the layers of despair, anger, and indifference I coated my throbbing heart in until it was so muffled that it barely had any room to beat.
Feeney has a gift for it—a gift of seeing, looking, knowing, feeling, caring, challenging, and changing.
I don’t know what’s happening to me. How could I have lost all my layers of protection in just a few weeks? Maybe it was just time. After two years of clouds and rain and storms, maybe it’s just time the sun shines its brightness out a fraction.
I edge a little closer, or maybe I just do it subconsciously. I’m not sure if my buttcheeks actually move off the spot where I’m parked. Perhaps I just feel closer. I look at her now, somehow feeling braver. She’s not saying anything, but I focus on her lips. Her lips are beautiful. Symmetrical and perfect. Full without being too full, they’re easily natural and not boosted by injections or whatever procedure is popular right now. They look soft, and I know they’re soft because I’ve had the opportunity to experience it. I’m surprised at how badly I want to kiss her right now.
Suddenly, she inhales softly, and I know she knows. She’s very perceptive, and she’s good at reading me. Unsettlingly good.
I finally gaze into her eyes and find them deep enough to fall into, dark and heavy lidden. Every time she blinks, it’s like she’s trying to blink away what she really wants.
I get it.
I feel jumpy because this feels sudden. Too sudden. I’m not a spontaneous person, and I don’t get out of control. Well, minus the Christmas whisky incident.
I haven’t read many manuscripts at work lately since I’m on top of things, and with success, I was able to hire other people to do that a long time ago, but when I used to sit there and read, I was always surprised at the pure trash that came across my desk: garbage romance, almost all of it. Sometimes I’d burst out laughing at how ridiculous it all was. I guess by then, I’d forgotten what it was like to want a person so badly and so wildly that your whole body feels like it no longer belongs to you because it doesn’t follow any of your commands.