“I’m glad I did. If I didn’t, I probably never would’ve asked you out.”
“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you did.” I dragged the side of my bottom lip through my teeth as I smiled. “And I guess it was a date in the end.”
“It was always a date.” Preston tugged on a lock of my hair, but instead of letting his hand fall, he brushed the back of his fingers across my cheek. The slight curve of his lips was reflected in the brightness of his eyes, and I instinctively leaned in as he dipped his head.
Our lips touched for the second time tonight.
“Goodnight, Halley,” he whispered against my mouth.
He released me and walked to his car that was parked at the end of my drive. My lips were warm where he’d kissed me, and I touched my fingers to them as I waved him goodbye.
His headlights lit up my street, and I waited on the doorstep until they were gone and the road was left in near darkness again.
Then, and only then, did I step inside my house.
I was barely inside for two minutes and removed my shoes when the clunk of my trash can falling over filled the air.
Goddamn those trash pandas.
I unlocked the back door and stomped outside. The back porch light clicked on and lit up the culprits. Two gray raccoons with black beady eyes and bushy tails jerked their little heads toward the porch where I stood with my hands on my hips.
“Boris! Rufus!” I scolded the two grown-up raccoons. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Neither of them moved. They were so used to me at this point that they knew I meant food, and the food I served was far better than the rotten banana skins and God knows whatever else was in my trash.
“You two sit there for two minutes, and I’ll make your sandwiches. You really need to learn some patience, boys. It’s unbecoming!”
With that, I turned back into my kitchen and set about making half a dozen sandwiches for them. There was no way my mom had come by earlier, and I could have kicked myself for thinking she would have.
She was flakier than a bakery full of pastries.
I pulled out a new jar of peanut butter and set to slathering six slices of cheap bread with yesterday’s sell-by date with it. There were no signs of mold, and I wasn’t buying those little freeloaders expensive, fresh bread, so they had what they were given.
I slapped the sandwiches together and cut each one into squares. I really wasn’t all that sure when this had become a part of my life as easily as it had, but at least I was a sandwich pro by now. Maybe I needed to leave the library and open my own sandwich truck.
Aimed solely at hungry, trash-pilfering wildlife.
I could guarantee there was a market for it.
I put the sandwiches on a plate and carried it outside, plus a bottle of mineral water. I didn’t usually water the little heathens with anything this fancy, but I really couldn’t be bothered to take the bowl inside to the tap.
They were drinking like kings tonight.
I knelt down in front of the bowls and distributed the sandwiches between the empty ones, then filled up the water one. Three more raccoons came out of the shadows of the woodland my yard backed up on to. One was Betty, the family matriarch, and the other two were adolescents.
I sat on the top step, watching as they bounded up the steps past me. My yard was lit up almost entirely thanks to the kitchen light that poured out over the area. Combined with the porch light, it meant I could see almost every inch of my space.
I smiled at the sight of the raccoons grabbing sandwiches and eating them like humans. Their little black fingers clenched their squares tightly as they nibbled away.
Betty eyed me as she took two sandwiches.
I knew what that meant. She ate more when she had baby buns in the oven. That meant I’d be feeding them for another few years yet.
“Oh, Betty, you really need to have a word with Boris, do you know that? He’s a randy little bastard, isn’t he?”
She said nothing. Obviously. I wasn’t a witch and animals couldn’t talk.
I’m sure she’d tell me to shut up and make her another sandwich if she could.
I sighed, but it was a happy one. “I had a date tonight. With Preston. You know, Reagan’s brother? The guy you’ve heard me muttering about for months? Yeah. He kissed me, and we went out. It was weird.”
No weirder than me talking to wild animals like Cinder-freakin’-ella, but I never claimed to be normal.
“A good weird, though. It was fun. We laughed, and I think we both had a really good time. He named the goldfish I won him Uranus, and that gave way to my slightly awkward sense of humor.”
Or weird sensibilities, like talking to raccoons.
At least I owned it.
“He makes me feel like I’m thirteen again. It’s so strange. I was so nervous before, and Reagan was on my ass about my self-confidence before it. She’s right; I need to do better. I just get so nervous, you know?”
Rufus paused mid-square.
“I always think I’ll mess it up. Plus we’re totally different people. I don’t know how it’ll ever work between us. He’s better with someone more like him, isn’t he? I don’t even know anymore, y’all. We get together like we did tonight, like we never have, and I was my usual sarcastic self. There was no sign of my lacking confidence.”
I shook my head.
Maybe showing him how I unloaded my problems on wildlife like they were my own personal therapy team would make him realize how crazy I was.
Then again, if it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t need a therapy team.
God knew I wasn’t going to pay a hundred dollars an hour for one.
I sighed, leaning back against the fence post. “Maybe I do need to work on my confidence like Reagan said. Despite my inability in the kitchen, I’m not that bad, am I? I’m funny and smart, and I care about you little trash pandas.”
Betty side-eyed me.
“Oh. No. Don’t look at me like that, Betty. I’m not here for your motherly rants, okay? I just want to talk out my feelings. Y’all won’t charge me for this session because you already got your sandwiches.”
She chittered. It was a high-pitched noise that sounded like endless squeaks.
“Betty! Calm your tits.”
She carried on, throwing her sandwich for good effect.
“What, you didn’t like that one?”
More chittering.
“Do you want me to shut up?”
Even more chittering.
It was going through me now, like nails on a chalkboard. It was over and over, almost panicked, and I rushed over to her.
“Are you hurt?” I reached for her, and she let me. I knew none of these held diseases because I’d had them vaccinated against rabies as soon as it’d become obvious they weren’t going to leave me alone.
She trusted me because I was able to run my hands over her body and that of both her babies without any of them attacking me.
Yes. I was literally their mother at this point.
“There’s nothing wrong with you, Betty.” I stood and wiped my hands together. “I need to wash my hands. Stop that damn noise, would you?”
I walked into the kitchen and, with a few healthy squirts of antibacterial soap, I scrubbed my hands clean.
Turning, I went to the oven to grab the towel that hung over the handle, and I saw it.