Page 65 of Make Her Mine

She sighs, then takes a drink of her cider. I’m not sure if she’s going to answer me, but eventually she leans to set the bowl of popcorn on the table and looks at me directly.

“The romcoms and the happy feel-good movies feel a little fake to me. Or I feel…”

She takes a deep breath and blows it out.

“I like books and movies about terrible shit that can happen in real-life because I can turn it off or shut the book.” She takes another deep breath. “And I can remind myself they’re actors and someone wrote the lines and it’s all staged and all of those people like each other and probably go out to lunch and stuff when they’re not shooting the movie.” She shakes her head. “I know that seems so weird. But it gives me a sense of control and comfort that I don’t get in real life with the real drama and real bad guys. I don’t have assurances things will turn out. The people I run into are truly bad. I can’t control when and how things happen. And I can’t turn it off when it gets to be too much. I have to stay in there and stay with it until it’s over.”

I study her. This is not the first time it’s occurred to me that I admire and respect what she does for a living. She helps kids. She helps families. She tries to create families and homes and security for people who don’t have that. And she is successful. More of her cases turn out well than turn out poorly.

But they don’t all turn out well.

I know she’s had heartbreak. And even at the time, but certainly in retrospect, I realize that I was even more invested in things turning out well with Alex because of her. I would’ve wanted Alex to get happy and healthy, no matter what, but the nights when we didn’t know how things were going to turn out, my worry and frustration were definitely doubled because I was worried about Harlow too. I knew if things turned out badly with Alex, it would affect Harlow deeply.

Sharing that experience with her made it even better when it turned out well. The way Alex grew and blossomed and accepted the love and support we were giving him, and his foster family gave him, was incredible to see. And watching Harlow do the good work she had done with him was gratifying. I’d been proud of her.

I’ve never let myself really think about that. I probably figured it didn’t matter.

But now, with her sitting on my couch, dressed in my shirt, I have this urge to give her all the popcorn and the movie she wants, that she doesn’t give herself when she’s trying to make other people happy. And it makes me think about how it felt to partner with her in helping Alex and how happy I was that she was happy on the other side.

Why don’t you just actually date?

My dad’s words go through my mind again.

I lean over and take the remote off the table and hand it to her. Then I hand her the bowl of popcorn.

“You can watch whatever you want when you’re here, and you can pause it or turn it off whenever you need to.”

She looks at me and I prepare for a funny or snotty response.

Instead, she says, “Thanks.”

Just thanks.

And when she points the remote at the TV and pulls up a movie I’ve never heard of, I settle into the sofa happily. I haven’t sat and watched a movie with someone in a long time. Harlow and I have never sat quietly, just the two of us for two hours.

If nothing else, this will be interesting.

“Do you want a blanket or something?” I ask, eyeing her bare legs that are stretched out on the sofa cushions between us.

She looks over as the beginning credits start to roll. “No, I’m good.”

“Pillows? Anything?”

“No, I’m good.” She frowns. “Why?”

“You have a ton of pillows and blankets and shit at your house.”

She grins and puts a piece of popcorn in her mouth. “You’ll be shocked to know those are for everybody else,” she tells me. “All of my friends like to be all cozy and cuddled up when we watch movies. I actually hate it. I get too hot and claustrophobic.”

I sigh but keep my thoughts on that to myself. Of course, she has her house stuffed full of things for other people. Of course, she puts up with being hot and claustrophobic, so her friends can cuddle up on her tiny little sofa in her tiny little house with pillows and blankets on top of them.

She’s all about making other people happy, creating comfort, and heartwarming memories.

But I find myself smiling and feel a little warm spot in my chest as I think about it.

Harlow Hansen is a very nice person.

And I wonder what it would feel like to be on the receiving end of her trying to make me happy.

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