“I know,” was all I managed.
“Jon, I don’t know if I can afford to fight this. Beau isn’t charging me any up-front fees, but I will get a bill from him. I know he’ll be fair, but I run the risk of having to sell the property or at least part of it just to pay legal fees if this drags out.”
“Well, we’ll worry about that when we have to. If you want to keep the property, that’s what we will focus on.”
“We?” she said, raising an eyebrow in my direction.
“Yes. I am your fiancé, after all.”
“Right. Of course,” she laughed. “I just have so much on my plate right now. The clinic is half in Shaun’s name, and if I don’t keep up my half of the business then I might have to sign it over to him. We haven’t had it that long. Plus, we incurred some debt buying it and setting it up. You know, equipment, staff, advertising, and such. Nothing is cheap in LA.”
“So, you are going to have to go back.”
“Yes. At least for long enough to sort that all out and put it behind me.”
I was at a loss as to what to say. I wanted to tell her not to go back, just to let it fall wherever it would, and I would take care of her, but I knew she wasn’t the sort of woman who would accept being bailed out by someone else, not even me—perhaps especially not me. Instead, I just took her hand and walked with her to the car, opening the door for her and getting in on the other side.
“You know, I can’t believe you still have this thing.”
“It’s probably just blind luck. When I left, I didn’t take it, and Dad put it up in the barn. So, it was waiting for me when I got back, when I got my shit together. I had to do a little work to get it going again after sitting idle so long, but it’s like it stood still in time while I was away.”
“It brings back memories,” she said, her voice almost inaudible.
“Why do you think I kept it?” I replied.
“You are a mystery, Jon Rayburn.”
“How so?”
“I don’t even know where you live these days.”
“I bought the Pickins’ farm when Mr. Pickins passed away.”
“That’s way out in the middle of nowhere!”
“Just like I like it,” I replied.
“Take me there. I want to see it.”
“There’s not much to see. It’s just an old farmhouse. I haven’t done a lot to it.”
“So?”
“OK, but I’m warning you. It’s not as nice as your Grandma’s house. It’s a bachelor pad at best.”
“That’s fine.”
I pointed the car toward the highway and turned off on the dirt road leading to the house. I’d found time to trim the overhang from the trees, so I didn’t scratch up the Barracuda on my way in and out like I had the truck. Parking in front, I helped her out of her side and walked up the front steps with her. Atticus and Scout met us at the front door, both rubbing against legs and meowing for attention. I introduced them to Rain as if they were people and took her on a tour of the place, apart from my hobby room. She didn’t miss the oversight.
“What’s in there?” she asked.
“Just storage, you know, junk,” I said, moving past it.
She stopped and looked at me, studying my face. “No, I don’t think so.”
Before I could stop her, she darted around me and opened the door, stepping in and then stopping in her tracks to look around, her eyes wide.
“It’s also my hobby room.”
“Jon Rayburn!” she exclaimed, turning back around toward me. “You’ve turned into a nerd!”
I laughed as she hurried in and made a loop around the room, reaching out to pick up a partially built tank. I leapt forward and rescued it from her, watching as a bemused look spread over her face.
“I prefer that people don’t touch them,” I said meekly.
“You really are a nerd.” She laughed.
“All right, all right. You’ve had your fun. You know my deep, dark secret.”
“Yes, I do,” she said playfully, letting me herd her out of the room. I shut the door and led her to the living room instead.
“Since when do you build stuff like that?” she asked.
“I needed something to fill my time when I came back home. Call it therapeutic, I guess. It grew into a lot more than just a tank or two.”
“I’ll say. The houses you work on weren’t enough?”
“Not at night, when it’s dark.”
“What happened to you while you were gone, Jon? I’m sorry. Grandma tried to talk to me about you, but I would never listen. I couldn’t.”
“It’s not a nice story, but I’ll tell you one day soon. Not today, OK?”
“OK,” she said, her head tilted curiously to one side.