Page 57 of Anchored

Tears fill my eyes again. It’s exactly what I need to hear. Exactly what Dexter and I didn’t have. Why we didn’t work out. He wanted me, but only the version that he created. Same as my parents. There’s pride and love there, but it still feels conditional. They love medespitewhat a screwup I am.

Holt releases me and pushes me into the middle of the room before sitting back down on the couch and draping his arms across the back. “Now get mad. Be really fucking loud about it if you want.”

I feel silly suddenly. “I can’t just be mad on command.”

Holt sits forward, his elbows on his knees. “Okay. I can help with that. Let’s talk about that love song Megan sang to me today. And I’m pretty sure she tried to trap me in the IV room with her the other day.”

That’s the first I’ve heard about that. “She did? What did you do?”

“I had to physically move her to the side and exit.”

Okay, now I’m pissed. “You know, if you were female and that was what a male employee did, that would be sexual harassment in the workplace. She should be fired, Holt.”

He hems and haws, not looking all that concerned. “She’s just a flirt.”

“No! That’s sexual harassment! Does it happen often?”

“Every day,” he drawls.

I advance on him, my index finger in his face. “You need to fire her. Immediately! That’s so inappropriate, along with being harassment. It’s not right that she gets away with it because she’s female. Harassment is harassment. You shouldn’t have to constantly be on your toes at work to avoid her.”

Holt leans over to the end table and pulls out the drawer, finding a pair of glasses. This pair has clear plastic frames. I’ve actually never seen him wear them. He holds them out to me.

“She gave me these. Said she wants me to see her clearly. I’m not sure if she was being seductive or just being nice.”

Anger is a real thing in my chest, burning away all the kind thoughts I try to have about every human being. I snatch the glasses from his hands and stare down at them. Something’s bubbling up and instead of taking a deep breath and pushing it down, I let it rise. I let it loose and toss the fucking glasses to the hardwood floor at my feet. I lift my foot and stomp on the glasses with all my might.

The sound of snapping plastic is loud in the cabin and it stops me short. One side of the glasses shoots out to the side and disappears under the couch. The other side is still under my shoe, hopefully smashed beyond repair. Holt begins to clap. My head snaps up to see him smiling at me.

“Great job! That was a really great first tantrum.” He stands and stops clapping. “Oh, and I still love you. Tantrum, stomping, smashing of glasses, and all. It was actually pretty cute.” He leans down and kisses me.

I narrow my eyes at him. “You tricked me.”

“No, I proved to you that you exploring your loud, angry side is fine by me. In fact, I’m proud of you. Face it. I love you, my little moonbeam. Now and always.”

A grin grows on my face, and I can’t seem to repress it. It did feel good to rant about that nurse who’s way over the line. “I still want you to fire her.”

Holt tucks my hair behind my ear. “I will handle it. Now get naked and do the splits on my face this time so I can reward you for a tantrum well done.”

My face immediately heats. Holt lifts an eyebrow. “I’m not kidding.” He reaches down and pulls my tank top over my head and throws it to the ground where it joins the broken glasses. Appreciation and love for this man flow over me.

“Get on the ground.”

Holt’s grin is smug. “Yes, ma’am.” And he does. He lies right down at my feet and looks up at me like I’m the moon he’s trying to lasso.

I do what any woman would do with a man like Holt staring up at her with lust in his eyes. I strip naked and sit on his face, letting him send me flying into outer space with his mouth.

Gracie’s diary

(61 years ago)

Dear Diary,

It’s been six months since Hank and his family disappeared in the night. I haven’t heard one word from him. Mama came in my room that first day and saw the ring. She was stunned, then horrified. I told her the whole truth, wanting her to see Hank for who he is, but she couldn’t get past what the town might think. She made me take the gold band off my finger, but I clutch it to my chest every night when I cry myself to sleep. I’m sad for what could have been, I’m angry he left without talking to me, and I’m starting to think everyone is right.

I need to move on.

The whole town believes his father robbed the church. Their last name has become a curse word in town among the parishioners. I know his father isn’t a good man, but Hank is. It’s not right that he got lumped in with his father’s wrongdoings. But right and wrong don’t seem to matter when the whole town believes something.

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