Page 79 of Book and Ladder
The man who mops my shop after a storm—or the one putting me out of business?
You can’t be both.
Chapter 23
Patrick
Hatred is much closer to love than indifference.
~Marya Hornbacher
Daisy stares up at me,an expression of steely resolve in her features. Her silent accusation chills me. Beneath that, her overwhelming sadness seeps through. I know Daisy. She’s putting on a brave face. We read one another like books we’ve read and reread over the years. Able to recite whole passages from memory.
I want to say something—anything—to soothe her ache, be her comforter. Instead, I’m silent, unsure, seemingly unaffected.
She turns her back to me and strides to her car, flanked by Winona and Carli. My body pulses with the urge to chase her down. To tell her how her speech moved me. To promise her I’m here for her. I’d give almost anything to pull her into my arms and absorb her pain. I step forward, but falter. I can’t go to her. It’s not my place.
As if on cue, my father appears in the doorway, beaming like the victor he is. He claps me on the back. “We did it, son.” His broad smile and inclusive words draw out a small, unexpected grin from me.
“Congratulations, Dad,” I manage to say.
“We’ve got our work cut out for us. I wouldn’t be surprised if Daisy chained herself to a tree or laid down in the middle of our field in protest.”
“Dad. No.” I warn him. “She had her points.”
“Sure. Sure. Of course she did.” His tone is patronizing. “But if we followed her line of reasoning, we’d be still chasing bears out of the woods behind our log cabins and riding buggies into town to get provisions. Progress means change. People always hate it, but they adapt. And in the end, they’re grateful. We can’t let the bleeding heart dreamers of the world drive our decisions.”
I sigh. My dad makes good points too, despite his callous delivery.
My mom steps through the open double doors, chatting with a neighbor.
Cody approaches us. “Want to go grab drinks or a bite to eat?” His invitation is aimed at me alone.
“I’d love to,” I tell him. Then I turn to my parents and excuse myself.
“You looked like a caged animal,” Cody explains when we’re out of earshot. “You reminded me of this two-year-old colt we broke a few years back. Internally kicking to break the pen.”
“I’m a stallion, thank you very much.”
“Yeah, you are.” Cody cracks up. “I’ll drive,” he says, walking toward his pickup. “Wouldn’t want all that horsepower to overtake the road tonight.”
I chuckle and climb up into his passenger seat.
“You’re between a rock and hard place on this one,” Cody says, starting his engine. “Judy’s okay?”
“Judy’s is perfect.” Probably half the town will be there, but Cody and I can hopefully find a private booth.
“I saw how you were looking at Daisy,” Cody continues.
“Hmm? How was I looking at her?”
“You had the look.”
When I don’t say anything, Cody adds, “You like her.”
I stare out the windshield, wondering how I ended up being the man who falls for a woman who literally hates me. “Remember when someone set fire to the old barn out on the eighty-five?”
“That pile of sticks? I don’t think it had served as a barn in over fifty years.”
