Page 49 of Holiday Cheese and Capers
“Why not?” Zephyr asked.
“Because it’s not that simple. We’re not—” She gestured helplessly. “We’re not like you two. We don’t have that easy comfort, that natural partnership. We have a history of being bad for each other. Of hurting each other. We’re just?—”
“Broken,” Bayard finished. “We’re just broken. Or maybe it’s just me.”
“You’re not broken,” Minerva said firmly. “You’re scared. There’s a difference.”
She stood up, and Zephyr did the same. “We’re leaving now. You two can sit here and talk, or you can continue avoiding each other and being miserable. Your choice. But Bayard? I noticed you signed up for the canyoning group that’s hiking down into the gorge this morning?”
“I did,” Bayard confirmed.
Exandra’s head snapped up. “Youwhat?”
“Maybe,” Minerva continued, ignoring Exandra’s reaction, “you could both go and use that time to have a real conversation. Away from everything else. Just the two of you.”
Bayard looked out the window, and Exandra stared at her hands, both stubbornly refusing to respond.
“Okay then. This duck needs a proper breakfast, by the way, not just a bowl of fruit.” Minerva pushed her chair back in and held out an arm for Fred. He hopped right onto it, approval for this plan radiating from his beady little eyes. “And you two need privacy.”
They left, taking Fred with them.
Bayard and Exandra sat silent and alone at the table, not quite looking at each other, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on them both.
THE G.O.A.T
“Canyoning!” Exandra exclaimed. “Of all the activities on offer, you signed up forcanyoning.”
“Yes. Yes I did.”
“In agorge.”
“That’s generally where activities like canyoning take place.”
“Bayard.” She turned to face him fully, and he could see the fear in her eyes. “You can’t. Not with your leg. Not in water. Not in a gorge, of all places?—”
“My leg is fine, Exandra. It hasn’t given me any trouble in years.”
“It’s not fine! You have a limp, you use a cane, and you’re talking about rappelling down waterfalls and climbing over rocks and—” Her voice broke. “You might get hurt.”
“Or, I might surprise you,” Bayard countered. “I’m very fit for my age and a great deal more capable than you think. Just because I use a cane and walk with a limp doesn’t mean I’m not able to do those sorts of things. I just might do them a little more slowly.”
“I know you’re capable of doing all kinds of things. You certainly demonstrated that yesterday. But this seems reckless. This is—” She stopped, pressing her hands to her face. “Have you even been canyoning since the accident?”
“I have not,” Bayard confessed.
“Then why? Why would you do this now?”
“Because I need to,” he said simply. “Because ninety years ago, I had an accident in a gorge, and I’ve been afraid of them ever since. And I’m tired of being afraid. I’m tired of letting that one moment dictate everything I can and can’t do.”
“Bayard—”
“And maybe,” he continued, his voice hardening, “I’m tired of you thinking I need to be protected. That I’m so fragile. That I can’t handle myself.”
“That’s not what I think!”
“Isn’t it?” He stood up, gripping his cane. “You’ve spent ninety years treating me like I’m made of glass. And I let you, because I thought that’s what you needed. To feel like you were protecting me. Making up for—” He stopped himself.
“Making up for destroying your career?” Exandra’s voice was sharp. “For crippling you? For taking away everything you should have been?”
