Page 127 of Windlass

“Stop.” Stevie got off her bucket and crouched on the ground in front of Angie. The slanting evening sun warmed her lower back. “Just stop for a second.”

Angie stopped, though with a confused tilt to her mouth.

“This is not something you should be dealing with yourself—”

“It’s my responsibility—”

“I live here too, and you criminally undercharge me rent. You also don’t charge me board for my horse, and I know for a fact you undercharge Ivy, who pays you more than that teeny-weeny number because she’s good people. It’s a huge house, and it’s old. So is the barn. You’ve been too good to your friends, which makes you an asshole.”

“How does that—”

Stevie held up five fingers. “Reason number one: Your friends care about you and don’t want you to be stressed. Reason number two: You’re stressed because you were charging us all way too little, which makes us look like assholes, and nobody likes to be made to look like an asshole. Reason three: You should have told me sooner so I could have helped sooner, though I should have brought this up, which makes me an asshole too, I guess. Reason four: Um, give me a second. Yeah. We like hanging out here. You not charging us could take that away from us. Rude. And last and not least, reason number five: you think you have to do everything yourself because you’re afraid to depend on anyone else, which makes you a cowardly chickenshit because I am literally begging you to lean on me a little more.”

Angie’s mouth gaped open.

Stevie waved her hand with its five outspread fingers in front of that poleaxed expression. “I rest my case.”

“How did you know I’m afraid to depend on anyone else?” Angie asked.

“That’s the question you’re asking? Not, ‘Wow, Stevie, okay, please tell me how you are willing to help me since you are clearly the hero I’ve been waiting my whole life for—’”

The light smack on her arm told her Angie was coming out of her shock.

“Really. How did you know?”

Stevie considered Angie. For a woman she knew to be quite intelligent, it was fascinating how blind she could be to her own reality.

“Because I knowyou. You almost killed me when I helped with the roof. You hate when people do things for you even though you also love it. You don’t think you deserve anything good, because if you did, then you might get used to it, which would make it harder when it falls apart. Am I off base? Can I still get to third base? Second? I’ll settle for first if I have to, but there’s something very, very good we both deserve if you let me make a home run.”

“If you ever make another baseball analogy about sex with me, I will never have sex with you again.”

“Noted.” Stevie grinned. “Will you go over the bills with me?”

Angie hesitated as Stevie had suspected she would.

“You own the house. It is your responsibility. But I owe you several years of back rent increases that I would love to pay now.”

“It’s way more than that, Stevie. They quoted $25,000 for a new roof because it’s got those gables and that steep part. When I asked about a patch, they warned me the rest could go soon, too, and there was already some structural damage that would get worse—”

“And the other bills?”

“I’m behind on a few, but utilities are paid up. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Stevie rubbed the sides of Angie’s thighs to try to calm her.

“Also, I don’tlikethat you know me this well!”

Calming wasn’t working, clearly. Stevie stared into Angie’s suddenly furious eyes and wondered how she’d ever gone a day in her life without them.

“Sucks to be perceived.”

“Itdoes.” Angie laughed, the anger breaking almost as quickly as it had surged. “Don’t think I don’t see you, Ward.”

“I believe you’ve seen everything there is to see as your sketchbook can prove.” Stevie winked because she was incorrigible. “Tell me something. Something about me you don’t think I want you to know.”

Angie chewed her lip hard, mulling over the question.

“You’re funny because you’re a conflict-avoidant baby.You worry no one takes seriously, which makes you tell more jokes, which becomes a cycle that ends with you feeling small and insecure and overlooked. You don’t want to be seen either.”

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