“Is it just the two of you?”
“Nah, we have friends coming over,” Billy lied.
He handed the guy a hundred, and thanked him. He brought one bag and set it on the kitchen counter and went back for the second. Renie was rummaging through the first by the time he turned back around.
“I’m starving,” she said, taking boxes out of the bag.
“I guess.” He laughed. “What did you order?”
“Pizza, wings, stuffed mushrooms, garlic bread, fries, and salad. Oh, and did he bring beer? I told him there’d be an extra big tip in it for him if he brought us a twelve-pack.”
“I did tip him big. You put the order in your name, darlin’. I wanted to do you proud.”
She looked over at him and smiled. “I love you, Billy Patterson.”
He almost dropped the second bag as he reached out to grab the counter.
“I’m sorry.”
“What? No. God, Renie. Don’t be sorry. It surprised me.”
“I do, though. I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Somehow he knew that wasn’t the end of it. There was more she wanted to say.
“Let’s eat,” she said instead.
“You seem different,” he said, in between bites of his fifth piece of pizza.
“Different how?”
“I don’t know. I mean, I’ve been in hell for the last eight months. You seem…fine.”
She set her plate down and looked right at him. “Don’t misjudge me, Billy. I can assure you I’ve been to hell and back again these last few months.”
“See? That’s what I mean. You’re so…good at saying what you’re thinking.”
“You’re right. I used to be afraid to tell you what I thought or how I was feeling.”
“Really? That makes me feel like shit. So what’s different?”
“I don’t know, exactly. Maybe I grew up.”
“Are you sure it isn’t that you don’t care what I think?”
“It’s that too, at least a little.”
He looked wounded.
“If you didn’t want the answer to the question, Billy, you shouldn’t have asked it.”
“Damn, Renie. I don’t know how to handle this.”
“Me, either.”
“I’ve never been so afraid of the words ‘we should talk,’ in my life.”
“We should, though.”