“You wrote a list on your phone?”
“Uh yeah. I like to be prepared for this sort of thing. It’s what every good Dom and friend does.”
Claudia’s laugh echoes across the valley. She only scares a couple birds. “Shit. Sorry,” she mutters. She looks adorable as fuck the way she ducks her head and covers her mouth. “Go on with your list.”
“Okay and I will answer in kind so you’re not just out here pouring out all this information.”
“I appreciate it.”
“Question one. What is your full name?”
“Oh the basics? Claudia Deja Cade.”
“Shepard Nils Olsen. Nice to meet you.”
She giggles again. “Likewise.”
“When’s your birthday? You mentioned you’re a Gemini.”
“June fifth. And you?”
“February fourteenth.” I look over at her and she’s looking back at me with her mouth hanging open. “Just say whatever you’re going to say. Get it out of your system.”
“You’re just…so cranky. I want to envision this sweet Valentine’s Day baby, but I can just picture you walking out of your mom with a full beard and that scowl on your face.”
“And I punched the doctor to make him cry and stole my dad’s cigar?”
Another hysterical laugh bursts out of her. “Yes, actually.”
“I’m not cranky. Just accustomed to a certain way of living. People up here aren’t much for light conversation and small talk.”
“Well good thing we’re sticking to hard hitting facts. What’s next on your list, Dr. Love?”
“My grandfather used to call me Saint. Like Saint Valentine.”
“That’s so cute.”
“I didn’t want the other kids in my elementary school to know my birthday was Valentine’s Day because I didn’t want the attention, but my third grade teacher heard my grandfather call me Saint one day and it reminded her of my birthdate so she went all out. I was so pissed.”
“I’m sorry. You’re not going to get me to think of that as anything other than adorable.”
“Moving on. What is your favorite breakfast food?”
“Oh that’s tough. I like pretty much all breakfast food. Actually that’s not true. I have a weird aversion to sausage links. I don’t know, just give me a traditional breakfast platter. Some sort of carbs I can smother in butter and syrup. Roasted potatoes, not hash browns. Bacon. So much bacon. I’m a hipster t-shirt cliché. I love bacon. And cinnamon toast and hot chocolate. My dad used to make that for me when my mom wasn’t home. So good.”
“My grandfather used to make this super thick Norwegian porridge that his mother used to make him, rømmegraut. He didn’t have a TV before I moved in with him, but my mom made him buy a TV and a VCR. On Saturday mornings he’d make it for me and we’d watch a video he would check out from the library.” I know she can hear how raw my throat is getting. The exact reason I don’t like to talk about him.
“I’m sorry he passed away, Shep.”
“Thank you. I miss him. Cancer is a bitch.” I’m a little shocked when she reaches down and takes my hand and even more shocked when she slips off the rock and comes to stand in front of me. She moves closer, then hands me Titus’s leash and slips her arms around my waist.
“You think you’re going to get out of talking by hugging me?” I ask her.
I feel her shaking with laughter before she pulls away a little. She looks at me a moment then tugs on my beard. “I miss Miles, but I miss my mom so much. Grenada is a small island, ya know. And we lived close to the water so it didn’t take long to walk down to the beach. When we were little, my parents would take turns doing things with us individually. My mom would take me with her to run her errands, but she’d always work in something fun for us to do when we were out and about. My favorite days were when we would stop by the water and she would let me ‘chase the waves’.” I smirk at the little air quotes she uses.
“When we moved to the States, we didn’t have any family here. We didn’t know anyone and it was fucking freezing. The day before my first day of school she took me to the beach at Coney Island. I was all bundled up in my new winter coat and mittens and shit, but she told me to go chase the waves. I felt like an idiot at first. I’m running toward the water in a damn snowsuit, but I just remember turning around and seeing the look on her face. She didn’t want to leave Grenada either, but she was happy becauseIwas smiling again.”
“When did they pass away?” I ask.