Page 112 of Say You Will

“Why do you talk like that? Just say ‘I need your help.’”

“Because the first sounds like a reasonable and measured request. The second sounds—Jesus.I need your help.”

“You in trouble?” I hear the scrape of chair legs and a scratch, as though Dean is dragging his hand over his scruff.

“Not the kind you mean. I have questions of a personal nature.”

“Your mic is picking up a lot of wind. Do I hear coyotes?”

“Yes. Nothing to be concerned about. They’re half a mile away.” I hope. Besides, I’m armed if it becomes necessary to defend myself. “I apologize for sound quality. I already have my hand cupped around the mic to be heard. This is the best I can do. I’m taking a walk.”

“At night in the wilderness?”

I breathe loudly and nearly cough when the frigid air hits my lungs. “Ahh. Refreshing. Nothing like it.”

“You’re in the doghouse with Franki.” I can hear the satisfaction in his voice.

“You can bask in the pleasure of my suffering later. Right now, I need to know exactly what you did to fix things with my sister.”

“The hell you do.”

“I meant ‘what did you say?’” I step over a large rut in the uneven ground and start a light jog.

“I told her I loved her the wayyoutold me to.”

“I already do that. Probably twenty times a day.”

“You look Franki in the eyes and say ‘I love you’ twenty times a day? Maybe you’re doing ittoomuch.”

“I . . . call her ‘love.’ I haven’t made a word for word confession. It was my understanding I was supposed to wait at least three months for a full love declaration.”

“It seems to me you shouldn’t be worried about following a timeline. I’m learning honesty trumps strategy when it comes to relationships.”

“How did you get Bronwyn to forgive you?”

“Henry, I don’t know. I said I was sorry, and that I couldn’t live without her. Your sister is an angel.”

I snort. “Bronwyn is no angel.”

Dean huffs. “Have you tried the standing in the doorway thing yet?”

“You mean hovering there like a psycho while she sleeps? Yes. It’s pointless.” Not that it stops me.

Dean barks out a laugh. “No. The next time you talk to her when she’s in another room, untuck your shirt first and prop your hands on top of the doorframe so you flash her your abs.”

He pauses, then asks, “You do have abs, don’t you? I don’t think the technique works if your gut is flabby or you look like the underside of a toad.”

“I’m not using any more techniques on her.”

Dean is quiet for a moment, then blows out a breath. “Then I think all you got left is groveling.”

“How do you grovel?”

“I’m not a relationship expert, so, take what I’m about to say for what it is: a shot in the dark, but you have to prove you learned your lesson. Some things are unforgivable, but if you made an honest mistake, I guess you gotta be sincere and vulnerable? If she’s an angel like Bronwyn, she won’t stomp you into the dirt when you’re already on your knees.”

I reach the hangar without having to shoot at any coyotes and go to the far-left main door, using the emergency key hidden in an electronically coded box under a hinged faux panel on the building.

I set off the countdown on the alarm when I enter with the manual lock, but I have the security codes and moveimmediately to tap in the override and fit my eye to the retinal scan. I make it with five seconds to spare, so Franki won’t hear anything of concern in the cabin.

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