Page 32 of Bring me Back

“What do you do with the canes?”

“I donate them to the nursing home.” He hissed when the flame got too close, making a hole in the petal. I reached for the petal he held, still warm, my fingers touched its hole. “Looks authentic.”

I sent him a small smile so he wouldn’t feel bad, but his eyes were intense. Too serious and fixed on me. They traced my face; jaw, cheeks and eyes. Eventually, he cleared his throat, looked down and started on the next petal.

“Tell me about your time in college and Ms. Handall.”

“College was fine,” I replied fast.

“Enthusiastic.”

I shrugged. “It was fine. I liked to learn… And I love sewing…”

“But?”

“There’s no but.”

He kicked me lightly under the table. “Come on, Cricket.”

“I liked my degree. But…” I frowned a little, reluctant to admit. “I’m not exactly your regular fashion graduate student.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’m… Hallie.” While the rest of my classmates were mile long legged girls and guys with a perfect bone structure wearing designer clothes, I was painfully still me.

“There’s nothing wrong with that.”

I tipped my head in thought. “Sure, there’s nothing wrong with me. But it also meant I made no friends because I was a little different from them. I had no interest in the things they talked about. So yes,” I breathed deeply, “college was fine. I learned what I needed to learn.”

“You don’t have to like the same things to make friends. I know nothing about what you do, and look at us now, huh?”

I lifted one shoulder, giving him that. “I made a friend. Not a friend. I mean, we talked enough times, and she invited me to a party and I went.”

I stopped myself. I wasn’t supposed to tell him any sappy story. Just the fact that my mind wandered that far annoyed me. I wasn’t supposed to be thinking of any of that.

“Tell me,” he ordered.

“It wasn’t for me.”

And for a while, I thought he was going to let it go. We went back to our work, silently burning the edges. I let a calming breath out.

“If you’re not ready to tell me things, that’s ok,” he finally spoke. “But sometimes I have the sense you never tell them to anyone.”

“I told you I was quiet.”

“That’s more than being quiet. That’s keeping what you have no business keeping.”

“Like what?”

“Resentment. Pain. Why are you collecting it?”

I blinked at him, flustered by how I let the conversation turn in that direction. I opened my mouth, but closed when he talked again. “You said to me you don’t want them to have any part of you and that’s why you don’t engage. But I don’t know if it works that way. If you still feel it and you just don’t let it out…”

He said nothing else, but I finished his sentence in my mind. If I didn’t give them my resentment, it meant I kept it inside all the time. I sighed, annoyed.

“A friend of theirs asked if fashion students weren’t supposed to be hot.” I rolled my eyes. “It was stupid and not a big deal…”

“What’s wrong with these people?” he roared, his breath blew off the candle. I took his lead and blew my one off too, placing it down on the table.

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