Page 63 of A Fighting Chance

“Actually, I came to ask you what the hell you’re doing.” She stops at the entrance of the kitchen and crosses her arms over her chest.

I look at her, utter confusion taking over.

“Do I need to spell it out for you?” she asks.

“Um, I think I’m going to need you to because I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I sit down the glass cleaner and turn to give her my full attention.

“I swear, people around here act like we’re all blind or something. Then, they act weirded out if or when we prove we’re not,” she says, and it only further confuses me. “Let me be more specific. What the hell are you doing about Gentry?”

Oh. That.

“What do you mean?” I question.

Harper rolls her eyes at me. “You obviously have feelings for him.” A pause and then, “Don’t you?”

I can’t seem to say anything, so I simply nod my head.

“Right. Now, I’ll ask you again,” she says. “What thehellare you doing?”

I let out a sigh and move to sit down at her kitchen table, where I rest my head in my hands.

She frowns at me but comes to sit next to me.

“I don’t know, Harper. I mean, I have to leave soon. I don’t know what to do,” I confess.

“Who says you have to leave? You’re a grown up. You can decide where you want to be,” she says.

“What about my life in Boston? I have an apartment, friends, clients. I can’t just abandon all that to come back here for a guy.”

“But is he just any guy? Or is he the guy?” she asks. “Because no matter the answer to that question, your choice should be simple. If he’s just a guy, you go. But if he’stheguy, don’t you owe it to yourself to keep him in your life?” Her eyes search mine, and I can feel the tears beginning to fill my eyes. She places her hand over mine.

“Oh, Harper, what do I do? How do I know if he’s the guy?” I ask.

Harper sits back, her eyes growing foggy as she looks past me to some faraway point. “Do you remember when we were kids and we’d play all day outside in the snow? We’d come in numb from head to toe, our clothes soaked, our skin so cold it was pink?”

I nod and she goes on, saying, “Do you remember Nan always having warm blankets waiting for us? She’d have us strip down next to nothing and wrap a blanket straight from the dryer around our bodies?”

I nod again, unsure where she’s going with this story.

“Do you remember the warmth spreading all over?” she persists. “Like…you could feel it—your body almost coming back to life, from numb to alive again?”

I understand what she means then.

“That’s what it feels like when you meet the guy. Like your whole life you’ve been in the cold and your body is numb. Then he comes in like a warm blanket and suddenly, you’re alive. Suddenly, you’re home,” she says.

I stare off into the space in front of me, absorbing what she’s saying.

We both sit there in silence for a while, enjoying the comfort of it.

“Is that how it was when you met Charles?” I finally ask.

Harper gives a small smile and nods. “Yes, but lucky for me, I think we get more than one warm blanket in our lives. Or at least, I hope.”

“I think we do,” I say.

But what do I know?

I’ve never even had one warm blanket unless you count Dean, which Idefinitelydon’t now.

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