“I had a great experience on the east coast, but —”
“Hmm, you can take the man out of the mountains, but you can't—”
“Pretty much. And I was homesick. I missed my grandfather a lot.”
“You were really close with him, weren’t you?”
“I mean you see how big this place is. Almost twenty years up here just the two of us…and he was a good father. I’m pretty sure my mom felt good about leaving me with him. He taught me everything I know and gave me the tools to figure out the rest.”
I look up as Titus starts sniffing around the front door. I owe him for the distraction. I don’t like thinking about my grandfather too much these days. “I have to let him out. You okay here for a bit?”
“Yeah, sure. I’ll clean up.”
“You don’t have to,” I say as I stand. “You’re my guest. I’ll handle it when I get back.” I fight the urge to kiss her and grab my jacket off the back of the couch. “Back in a minute.”
She flashes me a half smile before I close the front door behind me. It’s getting toward full night outside. The weather has been unpredictable, but the sun is setting earlier and earlier. The security lights flash on the moment I step off the porch and Titus takes off for his favorite copse of trees at the bottom of the driveway.
Titus handles his business and then after a few minutes it's clear he's just making up for the fact that I've been ignoring him all day. He comes when I call him and tries to race me back to the front door. I owe him a long walk over the weekend.
When I open the door, I find Claudia frantically searching through my cabinets and drawers. She’s cleared the island and washed most of our dinner dishes.
“What are you looking for?”
“Dish towels. I don't know how you live up here alone.”
“Other side of the sink. Top drawer. What do you mean?” She ignores me at first and digs out a towel and starts drying. I walk over to the sink and fill Titus’s bowl. I keep my eyes on Claudia as I move back toward the island to get the rest of the potatoes. She starts drying our plates and our silverware and I decide to wait. She figures out where everything goes and finally she stops moving. She won’t look at me though. I wait longer. She turns around and takes a deep breath.
“You were gone like five minutes and I couldn’t handle it.” The words spill out and her tone is all fucked up, like she’s telling me a funny anecdote and not coming down from a panic attack. “I tried to wash all the dishes, but I couldn't hear anything over the sound of the water. Freaked me out a little.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. It's just—the city’s so loud. It’s so quiet up here. But I'm glad you're back. Jesus, I'm fucked up.”
“No, you're not,” I say.
“Yeah, you say that but you don't know what's going through my head.”
“I opened the floor for communication.”
She almost rolls her eyes, but it turns into more of a wince. “Fine. I'm scared. There.”
“What are you scared about?”
“Well first I had this really sickening thought of you walking out into the woods and not coming back. And then when I heard you call Titus, I started thinking about just how scared I am—you know, in general.”
“I’m back. I came back.”
“I know you did. Still having some issues though.”
I don’t know what to do. I keep asking her, pushing her, but maybe the talking isn’t actually helping. I don’t need more reminders that maybe we’re making a mistake here.
“This,” she blurts out. “The dependency thing. I don't trust the way I feel right now at all.”
“How—”
“You make me feel so good, Shep!” she shouts at me. It's enough to shut me up. I pull out the stool and sit. “This is just—this must seriously be what crackheads feel like. Honestly. There's that voice in my head—ugh!” I watch her as she presses the heels of her hands against her eyes and then spins toward the sink. Her face is a little splotchy when she turns back around.
“I need to get help. I need to get on with my life, but just being around you makes me feel so much better. I don't know why,” she says sounding a little disgusted and then she smiles. “I mean you're not all that great.”