Page 6 of To Have and to Scold

“I’m supposed to be working right now, technically.”

“What do you do?” she asks, her hands clasped low in front of her.

“Nope. I’m not telling if you aren’t.”

“Fine.” She shoots me a scowl. “So why aren’t you working if you’re supposed to?”

“I was waiting for some equipment to come in, but it didn’t. And I can’t do my job without it. So, Elliott and I went to get some food.”

“Elliot’s your brother?”

“Younger brother.” Another quick pang to the gut. We’ve always had each other. Always. But eating with him at the diner was the first time in weeks that I’ve seen him outside of work.

“Do you have lots of family here?”

“My whole family’s here. There’s so much extended family, sometimes I forget exactly who I’m related to and how.”

“That’s crazy. I have four cousins, and I remember exactly how I’m related to each of them.” Her laugh is like little bubbles popping to the surface of a soda.

“What about siblings?” I don’t know why I’m talking to this woman like this. Usually, I steer clear of tourists. I’ve learned it’s better to give people who come and go a very wide berth.

“I have two younger brothers.” A smile sneaks across her lips, and she stares down at her manicured toes painted a dark blue. “I’m the typical over-protective, fussing older sister. They love itand pretend to hate it. But trust me. They love it. What about you?”

“I have two older sisters and then Elliott. My parents are in Africa right now with an organization that builds schools. My dad’s overseeing the construction. My oldest sister is the postmaster and just got married. My other sister works at the high school and it’s just a matter of time before she marries the guy she’s been dating for years. And then there’s Elliott.”

“And he’s engaged, which is exciting,” she says in a monotone voice, like she somehow knows I have my reservations about it.

I grunt and stare out over the water.

“Ah. I get it,” she says, lightly pushing against my shoulder. “You’re a little over-protective, huh?”

“No,” I insist. “But he’s only twenty-six.” Annoyance with Elliott flashes in my chest. He’s rushing into this, and I’m concerned.

“So what? He’s in love. Let him live his life.”

“Okay, Brené Brown.”

She wheezes out a huff. “That you would use Brené Brown’s name in a negative light is shocking, sir.”

“Sir?”

“Billy. Is that better? Bill? William? Fitzwilliam?”

At my cringe, she gasps. “I figured it out! Your actual name is Fitzwilliam!”

I can’t help but laugh at that. “What’s your name?”

“Another thing I don’t tell strangers.”

“But I’m not a stranger,” I insist. “Sometime in between that blood-curdling scream and now, I feel like I’ve earned the title of ‘non-stranger.’”

“We’ll see.” She traps her bottom lip between her teeth. “So, tell me more about the wedding.”

“Elliott’s wedding? I couldn’t tell you a single thing. I don’t even know if they’ve picked a date. I’m wondering if he’ll change his mind.”

“You do care about him!”

“I never said I didn’t. I’d just rather not talk about it, that’s all.”

---