“You have to keep them, Hunter. If you do rent the place, they’re great pastimes for people when it rains.”
She had a point. But when she opened the backgammon and found it in perfect, although slightly dusty, condition, she wanted to play. It turned out my Little Dragon was competitive and fierce with board games. She loved trash talk and strategizing. Taking my men. Her intelligence was evident during Scrabble. Her love of the triple word score abounded. I challenged her often, making her look up words only to piss her off. I insisted she had to use the dictionary I found with the games and not her phone, in keeping with the theme of the night of old-fashioned fun. She would squint as she looked up the word, her beautiful eyes flashing in triumph as she read the definition and used the word in a sentence.
When she stood to dance yet another victory, I chased her to the bedroom and tackled her on the bed. The laughter soon became something else entirely. Late in the night, I woke up and found her in the kitchen, sitting on the counter in my T-shirt, eating Chinese food. I stood between her legs, letting her feed me bites, then finally carried her back to bed, holding her close until she slept again.
She was quiet in the morning as we moved around. She helped me sort a closet in the guest room, discovering a few more things she insisted needed to stay. A pile of barely looked-at magazines, some old-fashioned glassware, and a popcorn maker for a fire.
“You never know what you’re going to find,” she enthused. “All hidden treasures.”
We took Cash for a walk after lunch, and when we got back, she paused on the porch.
“I should go.”
I nodded. “Okay.” I already knew I wouldn’t see her tonight and probably not tomorrow. I hated the thought of it. I also hated the fact that I hated it.
She pushed her hands into her back pockets. “Um, the invitation is open, you know, in case you change your mind and want a swim and some food. It’s really casual. You can bring Cash if you want.”
“Thanks,” I said, unable to refuse her outright. We both knew I wouldn’t go, but neither of us wanted to acknowledge the fact that I was that much of an asshole.
“Okay, there’s some Chinese left for you.”
“I’m good, Little Dragon. Enjoy your time with the girls and have fun.” I didn’t add “tomorrow,” but she knew.
A sad look crossed her face, and her bright eyes dimmed a little. But she didn’t falter, leaning up and kissing my cheek. “See you later,” she murmured.
She didn’t look back, disappearing down the trail.
I missed her the moment she was out of sight.
Now unable to settle, I searched for something to do. Knowing I had to clear out the master bedroom before demo started, I grabbed some boxes and sorted through the surprisingly large closet. Most of it was being tossed. Old clothes, shoes, hats, and such. I found a couple of plaid shirts, never worn, with the prices still attached. I tossed those on the bed, knowing they would come in handy. There were some file boxes on the top shelf I pulled down. I opened the lids, quickly looking inside. One contained paperwork I decided I would go through. Another was tax returns, and the third contained piles of envelopes, the edges of some yellowed and curled and others looking newer. They looked more personal than business-related, so I assumed they were letters to my grandmother from when they were young, as well as other correspondence. I decided to put them aside until another time, and I spent the rest of the day sorting the other two boxes. I started a fire, burning everything I had no need or interest in keeping. I cracked a beer, watching the flames flicker and eat the paper I patiently fed to it. I tried not to think of Ava, but she popped into my head without trying. Her smiles and laughter. Her wit and intelligence. The way she wrinkled her nose when concentrating. Her unapologetic appetite.
How she felt in my arms. How I felt when I was with her. The way we moved together.
How empty my bed would be tonight.
How lonely I would be again when I left this place, left her, in the not-too-distant future.
I pushed those thoughts out of my head.
That was my life. It was all I knew.
I had no choice.
At least, that was what my head kept saying.
* * *
The next day, my restlessness grew tenfold. I was up early, working, clearing the back, getting ready to have the foundations poured. As soon as I got my permit, I needed to get it done. I worked under the heat of the sun, sweat pouring down my back as I used the chainsaw to clear away branches and the ax to chop at the undergrowth. I paused to wipe my brow, draining a bottle of water. I noticed some pieces of shingles in the pile of undergrowth, and I stepped back, peering at the roof. Cursing, I grabbed my ladder and climbed to the top, walking carefully on the spongy surface. Near the center, I discovered a missing patch of roofing, as well as another one farther over the peak. Luckily, rain wasn’t forecast for the next few days, but I was going to have to get some tarps and cover the holes. The whole thing was coming off once the extension was done, but I would need to protect the gaps until that happened. We’d had a storm last week, and the shingles must have come off then. I recalled Ava blaming Cash for spilling his water bowl, but eyeing the missing shingles, I realized the water had come in from the ceiling, not his bowl. I walked the entire roof, pausing at the top to glance toward Ava’s. I realized I could see the houses of the compound up here. At least a few of them. I could see her roof and the huge structure she called the Hub that stood closer to the water. I stretched as high as I could, curiosity filling me. I wondered if she was home now at the center of the place where they would gather for the barbecue. I glanced at my watch, surprised to see it was already past twelve, and Ava had said they usually started around eleven. I squinted, pretty certain I could make out the building where they would be. I thought I saw people gathering, even heard the sounds of music drifting across the open space, but I decided it was only my imagination working overtime.