Everything that mattered to me a month ago is gone now. All of my plans and priorities are dust. There was surviving the virus. Then there’s sticking the landing through all of the changes of the aftermath. Not just the loss of friends and family, but having your life turned upside down. Food, water, safety, shelter, and companionship didn’t used to take this much effort. I was also so much luckier than I ever understood.
The supplies we find are being split among the three houses at present. Once we are assured of a continuous supply of food for the next while, we can move on to other jobs. Like preparing and planting the gardens. For which we need to check out the local hardware store, where they will hopefully have some seeds and everything else we’re going to need. It’s on this afternoon’s agenda. But sooner or later we’re going to have to go farther afield in search of things like solar panels and a generator. And what I really want is more information on how to do all of these things.
In the meantime, I am not the least bit worried about Naomi working with Dean. It hasn’t even crossed my mind once. He kidnappedme. Not her. And I cannot fucking believe I just said that to myself. Honestly. There better be a therapist still alive and willing to barter for services. Otherwise, me and my Stockholm syndrome are in serious trouble.
Me and him as a couple make no sense. My head knows this. But my heart and loins aren’t listening. In any other situation, during any other time, this wouldn’t even be an option. Ofcourse you don’t date the dude who kidnapped you. We are, however, talking about the end of the world. And the old rules do not apply.
Sad to say, it’s a glass cookie jar that tips my emotions over the edge. It’s nothing even to do with Dean. Nope. It isn’t even anything to do with Sophie. She’s perfectly fine. Out hanging on the porch with her new best friend.
But I see the glass cookie jar hidden at the back of the cabinet, and it’s the exact same one my mom and dad had at their house. Theexactsame. There are even a couple of Girl Scout cookies left inside. It stops me dead. Getting sucker punched honestly hurt less.
I just lose it and start crying, which is ridiculous.
Dean joins me at the fire with a bottle of beer in hand. His hair is still damp from bathing in the creek. There’s a masculine beauty to him that gets me every time. He sits on the blanket beside me with an easy smile, but he doesn’t fool me. His sharp gaze moves over Sophie before doing the same for me. Just checking we’re still in one piece and no one’s hurt his girls.
And I don’t stare at him like he’s the stuffed toy my father gave me all those years ago. I don’t need him to cuddle and comfort me. Everything is fine.
Tonight’s dinner is being hosted by the town’s newest members. The place they chose to move into is an elegant old three-story wooden house with a wraparound veranda. What used to be one of the bed-and-breakfasts in town, which explains the good amount of bedrooms.
Stones from the woods surround the new firepit constructed on the overgrown front lawn. Avan has made flatbread out of flour, oil, and water. My contribution was homemade hummus due to the surplus of canned garbanzo beans. It involved a whole lot of mashing with a fork; however, I love hummus, so it waswell worth the effort. And Natalia spent the day fishing in the creek in view of the road into town. Figuring out food three times a day can be a chore without modern conveniences. But sitting around a fire with new friends is sublime.
“Talk to me,” he says in a low voice.
“Hi, Dean. How was your day?”
“We got a lot more done with the extra hands.” He takes a look at the people gathered around the fire. “They all seem okay.”
“I wholeheartedly agree.”
Sophie takes a quick break from mapping out constellations with Hazel—they’re in one of the books they found at the library—long enough to remove one of the crystal bracelets on her wrist and slide it onto Dean’s.
“This is for me?” he asks.
“Yes,” she says.
“Thank you.”
And then she’s gone again and back with her friend. Seeing her smile is the best feeling. Hazel seems happier today too, which is great.
“We went shopping on the square this afternoon. They were in a boutique,” I explain, inspecting his bracelet. “We both needed more jeans and tees. Only having one change was getting old. The girls loved trying on the coats in the vintage clothes store. She gave you the gray agate bracelet. I got turquoise.”
“Are crystals meant to have special properties? What does gray agate mean?”
I steal a sip from his bottle of beer. “No idea.”
“It probably means I am incredibly understanding now.”
“Probably.”
“So understanding, you’ll just automatically tell me all about what upset you earlier without me even prompting. Because youknow whatever happened, my response will be thoughtful and kind.”
“Subtle.”
“You like that?” He takes back the bottle of beer. “Reema mentioned you had a tough day.”
I sigh. “It was just a moment. One of thosea whole lot of the people I love have diedkind of moments, you know?”
“Sorry you were feeling low.”
