Page 71 of Trapped: Until The Darkest Of Night

Carefully, without stepping on fallen branches, I creep over the gravel until I reach the side wall.

“It’s okay, Grey,” I hear her whisper lovingly. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t drown you. He wants you to make it, too. I know it, even if he doesn’t say so.”

And again I smile.

The two days I gave Grey are over. Lou is nervous and has hardly eaten. She’s constantly trying to make eye contact with me. I think she wants to ask me to give him another day, but she hasn’t said anything. For the past hour, she has been pacing up and down in the RV, the little bells tinkling and the little wolf tucked away in the sling I made for her from a sheet. She keeps muttering something under her breath, words of comfort for Grey that I don’t understand. But I love that tone of voice. And it kind of calms me down too because, without meaning to, I’m almost as nervous as Lou is even though I’d never show her that.

Around noon, I put her out of her misery by getting the kitchen scale out of the cupboard. “Come on, it’s time.” With deliberate calm, I place the digital scale in the middle of our dining table.

Pale-faced, Lou stops and hugs Grey.

“Put him on!” I order as she makes no move to let go of the wolf. I know my cool manner is supposed to hide my own feelings, but I can’t help it. The only way I could drown Grey in the lake is if he actually lost weight. The idea is even worse than force-feeding Lou like a fattened goose.

Lou’s hands tremble like electric eels as she places the wolf on the scale.

“You need to let go of him, Louisa!”

With visible reluctance, she lets go of the ball of fur and looks at me wide-eyed as if she could change my mind with pleading looks if necessary.

I push the button and hold my breath. Twenty-five ounces! Thank goodness. He will make it. Thank God he will make it!

“He’s gained eight ounces,” I say more matter-of-fact than I feel like. “That’s good.”

“It is?” Lou licks her lips nervously. She looks at me anxiously and I nod. What else am I supposed to do?

“So you’re not going to drown him?” she asks, reaching for Grey as if she doesn’t trust me.

“No.” I’m faster and pick up the pup and hand him to her like a gift. “I think he’s turned a corner. Now all we can do is hope he continues gaining weight. You should probably go on feeding him frequently for a few more days.” I watch her and notice how tired she appears to be. “Every two hours, maybe. I’ll help if you want. I can do part of the night shift.”

She blinks a few times and stifles a yawn. “Sounds good,” she mumbles. “It’d be great to get a few hours of sleep in a row again.”

At that moment, it feels like we’re friends fighting for a common cause. It’s like she’s not scared of me anymore. A spark of hope creeps into my chest and I can breathe more easily. “Okay,” I say, feeling more relaxed than I’ve felt in a long time. “I’ll take the second half of the night, then.”

She nods, seemingly open and relaxed.

I venture further. “Do you want to eat outside with me tonight?” Just to do something, I grab the kitchen scale and put it in the lower cupboard. “We could drink to Grey’s will to live,” I suggest, hoping to strike the right note. When she doesn’t reply, I straighten up again.

She clings to Grey for help. Damn it…

“Hey, Lou!" I take a step toward her and, out of an inner urge, tug at a ragged strand of hair that’s almost touching her shoulder. “It’s only eating dinner and a toast. Maybe laughing a little—that’s all,” I say softly.

“Eating and toasting,” Lou repeats, a little breathlessly. “Okay, if you promise not to put anything in my drink.”

She can’t still think that! “I thought we were past that,” I say grumpily.

“And I thought you weren’t going to touch me,” she squeaks. Irregular patches of red light up her cheeks, one of which is in the shape of Africa. I remind myself of how difficult it is for me to trust anyone.

I raise my hands apologetically. “Sorry, I was joking. And it was only your hair.”

“Bad joke,” she chokes out, hugging Grey tightly to her chest.

I nod curtly. “I agree I shouldn’t have provoked you.”

We stand in front of each other for a while with neither of us saying a word. If only I had kept my fingers to myself! I was so close to gaining her trust. Now she stands there and looks everywhere but at me.

Sure, she thinks she knows what I want from her. And I told her I would wait until she was ready. But this is only dinner and a beer. What’s so bad about that? That doesn’t necessarily mean sex, does it?

At some point, I can’t bear to see her standing in front of me so embarrassed.

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