Page 32 of Cabin Fever

"No, the milk two days ago was a little spoiled. You're Imelda Marcos spoiled."

"I can't believe you said that. I'm not a criminal, and I know for a fact that owning more than one hundred pairs of shoes is tacky."

I chuckled and she joined me. My father had always warned me against people like her. I was young when we left DC, but I knew what he meant—the way the rich and powerful used each other. Even as a boy, I knew some of the people my dad met weren't good people.

But Olivia wasn't like that. She was funny and didn't take life or herself too seriously. I loved my father, but his strict thinking made it hard sometimes to enjoy life.

"What did your sister write?"

She folded the letter and shoved it into her pocket. "The usual. That she doesn't trust Derrick and that she's worried about me. But the important thing is, she left me my emergency credit card. We switched cards a few years ago. In case either one of us was in trouble, the other could send the card via mail or leave with a consulate."

"Now you can get a plane ticket and head home." I glanced over to the front counter, wondering what was taking our food so long.

Everything was set. She had money. Her sister knew something was wrong and left her everything she needed. All Olivia had to do was take me home and call a cab. Nothing was stopping her.

Why had it felt sudden? It'd been eleven days.

"Who's going to help you with the sheep?"

Luckily, I didn't have to answer that as Debbie came back with our food. She placed the dishes in front of us and my stomach growled at the aroma. Breaking an arm could really make a man hungry.

"You haven't answered me, Carter. Who's going to help with the farm?" Olivia lifted the cocoa to her lips. I watched her eyes roll back into her head and a whipped cream mustache appeared above her mouth.

I wanted to lick it off so badly.

"I don't need help. I'll be fine. You worry about getting a plane ticket. It's a good thing the phone lines are back up. You were able to call for an ambulance for me this morning, and now you can call the airport."

Cutting into the pancake with my fork, I shoved a large piece into my mouth.

"I think before I go, I'll contact someone to help you. Who should I call?" She stabbed a piece of melon with her fork, lifting the green fruit to her lips.

"It's okay. I got this."

Just before she bit down on her melon, Olivia pulled the fork away. "What do you meanyou got this? Carter, the nurse said someone had to help you on the farm. Most of the time I'm sure you can handle things alone, but this isn't one of those times. This is when you need your friends and family to help." She held up her black credit card. "I have Bea to help me. She knew something was wrong because we're twins, and it's a twins thing. But my point is, when someone knows you—like really understands you—they are willing to reach out to help."

"He's dead," I said and took a bite of the sausage.

"Who?"

"My dad. He knew me. He helped me, and I repaid him by not being there for him when he died. I'm sure there are many wonderful people in this area who would be great as friends, but I'm the one who wouldn't be helpful. What happens when they need me? I may be good at farming and making potatoes, but being someone that others can depend on . . . I wouldn't know the first thing about that."

She sat back staring at me. I'd seen that same look on my father's face many times—disappointment. I was a grown man who didn't even understand the basic concept of friendship.

"I depended on you for over a week."

"That was different. We were stuck together."

She nodded and turned her head toward the window. I watched as Olivia tilted up her head, warming her face. "I was also hurt when you found me. You could have left me on the floor. A stranger broke into your home and stole your food. You didn't have to help me." Olivia turned to face me with a soft smile.

"I couldn't do that. Of course, I'm going to help someone in need." I shrugged at the obviousness of it all.

"But you just said you weren't good at having people depend on you. A person in a life-threatening situation depended on you for help. It seems to me that you know how to be my friend."

I turned my full attention to her. She reached over, tickling the tips of my fingers on my good arm. "I'll help you. In return, you can teach me about the farm."

I straightened, not understanding what I heard. "But you have to go home. Your family . . . Don't you have a job?"

Olivia took a deep breath and folded her arms on the table. "My family won't miss me. My parents, my brothers, my sisters, they have their own lives. Bea will miss me, but she'll understand. And do you really think I have a job? Remember, I'm Imelda Marcos spoiled."

---