Page 46 of Compassion
For just a moment, Archer seems annoyed.
Irked that the thing meant to bring him joy is standing in the way of completing his mission.
Yet one glance my direction and his demeanor shifts.
He lowers himself to his knees.
Keeps his attention on the four-legged friend until he realizes thatI’mlike the goat.
I’m not going anywhere.
You can be gruffy and huffy and scruffy, but I’m going to stick around and give you the love you need.
The loveheneeds.
Whether it’s reciprocated or not.
In a hushed voice, the man to my side playfully grumps, “She put you up to this, didn’t she?”
I lightly giggle and bend my body into the pose just as he begins to nuzzle the goat head-to-head.
“I like you. I really do,” my stubborn friend quietly states to the creature, eyes shutting during their continued nuzzling, “just like I really like her.”
Those pesky butterflies I can’t seem to permanently banish go wild in the pit of my tummy once more.
I really like him, too. And I really like whatever this is that we’re doing together.
Chapter 10
Archer
Steering the basket around the slow Sunday shoppers crowding the aisles of Harry’s Hardware, I unhappily grunt, “You’re very pushy about this fucking topic.”
“Andyou’revery circumventy.”
“You may be the word expert, but I’m pretty sure there’s not supposed to be a y on that.”
“Iamthe word expert because I conduct words for myself and others,” the playfulness in her tone successfully sparks a smirk, “therefore I declare that it’s an adjective now.”
Faking a gasp occurs at the same time I stop our cart in the area for paint. “What would Webster say?”
“It’s actuallyMerriam-Webster– which, fun fact, is the oldest dictionary publisher in this country – and none of those people would say anything because they’re dead and they’ve been dead and if the dead start talking, we have aWarm Bodiessituation on our hands that I’m ill prepared for.”
“I’m not.” The casualness of my counter receives an eyebrow lift. “I’ve read my fair share of survival material over the years – mainly while I was serving. I wouldn’t say I’m a bushcraft expert, but I think based on the skills I’ve adapted and perfected, we could make it through at least the first few waves of a zombie apocalypse.”
Jaye tucks the sleeves of her warm caramel colored sweater into the palms of her hands and girlishly giggles. “Is it weird I find that oddly comforting?”
Leaning into the beautiful sound is accompanied by me resting my arms on the edge of the basket. “Nah.”
What? It’s not any fucking weirder than me finding comfort in that sound. Or the way she always put out a coffee mug for me in the morning no matter how busy she gets. Or the fact that we’re out shopping for things to make the house feel like our home rather than her dead fiancé’s. Okay, yeah. That last one is still pretty fucking strange.
“We’re making you a DMV appointmentanda doctor’s appointment. Botharehappening. I already put them on the calendar for this week – the one in my phoneandthe one in the kitchen – so you can keep being evadey and dodgey and flighty-”
“You’re just adding ys for the fuck of it.”
“-all you want, but we are doing those things whether you grump and grumble like the Pigeon or not.”
“The Pigeon?”
