“How do you take it?”
There’s a gruffness to the way he asks that probably has to do with his embarrassment over accidentally letting something personal slip, but my mind interprets the question in an entirely different context. One where we’re both naked, and Maverick is hovering over me, staring at me with the same level of intensity he’s currently aiming at the coffee machine.
Again with these crazy thoughts. Where the hell are they coming from?
“Black,” I grunt, running a hand through my hair and stepping away to put some distance between us.
Maverick nods, remaining fixated on the machine. “Sugar? Cream?”
“Nope. Just black.”
Like your soul.
Last week, I wouldn’t have hesitated to get that little jab in.
But now, it doesn’t seem right somehow.
Which is annoying.
And confusing.
And completely unacceptable.
Because while Maverick may be getting off to a good start as my boss, and it’s clear he’s a great uncle, we are not friends. And I cannot let myself think otherwise.
As the saying goes, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. I’ve been disappointed by new owners more times than I care to recall. I’m not falling for it again. Yes, I believe he wants to do a good job and turn this place around. But I’m not getting my hopes up. Once reality sinks in, and the bills start piling up, and the never-ending to-do list keeps growing, he’ll give up. All the others have.
Why would Maverick be any different?
“Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty.” I reach the chain-link fence that borders the staff parking lot and run the numbers back in my head. Twenty-two steps from the barn to the patch of rough grass where I take a sharp left, and then thirty steps through the muddy ruts to the lot. I tally it up, repeat it a few times aloud so I remember it, and add it to the ever-growing list I’m compiling in my head.
I was diagnosed with retinitis pigmentosa when I was Sammy’s age. It’s a rare genetic eye disease that slowly destroys the retina. It usually starts with trouble seeing at night and in dim lighting conditions and then, over time, leads to progressive vision loss and eventual blindness. The prognosis for most people is that they will likely become functionally blind sometime in their forties or fifties.
I’d come to accept that. It wasn’t great, obviously, but at twenty-four, your forties and fifties feel like ages away. I planned on dealing with it when the time came and, in the meantime, prayed that a treatment would be discovered before I reached that age.
And then this past New Year’s Eve, doing my favorite thing in the world, watching the Silverstone fireworks, my vision went a different kind of blurry. I put it down to too much wine, but when I woke up the next day, it wasn’t better. A dull ache took up residence behind my eyes, flaring up every time my eyes shifted, especially when I focused upward.
I told Clancy, and we booked in to see my ophthalmologist. After an extensive round of exams, scans, and visual field testing, the reason for my blurred vision and eye pain was discovered.
It caught us both completely off guard, and I’m still trying to come to terms with it. I swore Clancy to secrecy because if my sisters find out, it’ll be over. They’ll worry and fuss, and I’ll never hear the end of it. I need time to mentally prepare myself for what’s coming before telling them.
“What are you doing?”
I jolt at the sound of Maverick’s voice and clutch my chest. “Fuck. You scared me.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
I squint to see him in the waning light. The shine of his expensive-looking shoes. The black pants that hug his muscular legs. The tailored fit of his burgundy dress shirt that strains as it tries to contain the broad span of his shoulders. He’s so sleek and polished, with not a hair out of place at the end of the day, while I reek of horse shit and am caked in dirt.
He takes a step toward me. “What were you doing?”
“Nothing. Just…” I scratch the side of my sweat-dampened neck. “Talking to myself. I do that sometimes.”
“Okay.”
“What are you doing here?”
I assumed after our run-in in the break room this morning, he and Sammy would head back to his place. I hadn’t seen either of them around all day.
