Page 47 of Fluffed and Folded

He had already packed, while Josie was packing her, so they were ready to go. They said goodbye to Josie and Tristan, who continued to wander her apartment, mute and stoic, and then they were on their way.

“How far away is it?” Darby asked. She felt unaccountably nervous, and she had no idea why. Because she was leaving her oasis? Because of the kiss they still hadn’t mentioned? No idea.

“About ninety minutes, without traffic.”

“Does your uncle mind that we’re making an unannounced visit?”

“No, he’s actually not there. He and my aunt made this arrangement because she wanted to sell the farm and move closer to their kids, but he wasn’t willing to let it go. As acompromise, he gets someone to watch over things, while they travel. They’re visiting my cousin right now, and have someone watching the animals. But it’s always a relief to have a real person on site, so he’s glad we’ll be there. Plus their dog had to stay because he’s old and doesn’t travel well. Parker will be glad to see us, too. Parker is the dog,” he added as an aside, shooting her a conspiratorial smile. “Are you okay with dogs?”

“I love dogs,” she said.

“Too bad the landlord won’t let you have one,” he said.

She smiled. “I guess I could probably get one, but I don’t seem to do anything out of my routine.”

“I think that’s kind of normal.”

“You do?” she said. She thought it was the opposite.

He nodded. “When someone has an insecure childhood, and they find security, they tend to hold onto it, don’t you think?”

She had never given it consideration, but now that she did, it made sense. Her childhood had been the definition of insecure, just her mom and siblings, never enough money, never enough Mom. Would it have been different, if her father stuck around? Was that why she had so easily latched onto Ham, because she’d been desperate for that father figure? She grimaced, not liking to think that. Besides, Ham hadn’t been like a father to her, not really. He’d been almost like a child, needy and impetuous, always casting her in the role of caregiver, emotionally and otherwise. But she did experience a spike of anxiety if she ventured out of her routine. “Maybe.”

“Besides, don’t you think it’s unhealthier to be the sort of person who needs constant change and amusement? Always changing jobs, locations, partners. To me, remaining in your lane looks a whole lot like stability.”

“Huh,” she said and got stuck staring at his profile. It was amazing to her the way he could take the worst, messiest parts of her life and make them okay. Break into his house?You’re goingthrough a lot right now.Collapse bleeding on his floor?I can’t believe you’ve been functioning so well through a dire medical issue, all this time.Have no friends and refuse to leave your apartment?Must mean you’re well-adjusted and not flighty.How did this man make average so appealing? He was cute, but not drop dead handsome, he had a mediocre job, lived in a mediocre apartment, and drove a mediocre car. But his kindness was exceptional and that, Darby realized, made the difference. She wasn’t certain she had ever encountered someone so selfless, so willing to go to bat for a complete stranger, and it drew her to him like the proverbial moth to the flame. Eli made her feel safer than Ham ever had, safer than anyone ever had. Ham hadn’t wanted her messiness, her neediness, her brokenness. He had only wanted what she could give him. In exchange, he had given her money and new experiences. Eli, on the other hand, offered her something exponentially more valuable: acceptance.

Darby had spent most of her life being judged by her looks. Her beauty had opened doors for her and also taught her to hold men at arm’s length, because their interest was superficial. She’d allowed Ham in, because he’d seemed safer than most men, and her beauty propelled her to the role of child bride, one with a sizeable bank account. And now she was faced with a man who genuinely seemed not to care how she looked. If she were a hundred pounds heavier, Eli would treat her exactly as he had, with the same compassion and tenderness. If her features and hair were poorly arranged, in an aesthetically displeasing mismatch, he would still smile at her with the same warmth, would want to make certain she was equally cared for. She had never met a man like that, and she had nowhere to go with it because it made her feel oddly insecure. If she didn’t have her looks as a buffer, what exactly did she have? What did Eli seewhen he looked at her heart? Was it as small and empty as she feared? She had no friends, no hobbies, nothing.

She swallowed hard and glanced away.

“We’re almost there,” he said, and she realized he had probably picked up on her silence and dark mood. She forced a smile.

“Okay.”

A few minutes later, he pulled into the farmhouse lane. It was too dark for Darby to see anything, minus a large house and medium size barn. He carried both their bags inside, Darby in his wake, and deposited hers in a back bedroom while she remained in the living room, inspecting the space. It was a normal house, nothing extravagant to make her believe Eli was secretly rich, but she still felt off-kilter and on edge.

“Do you want anything to eat or drink?” he asked as he reentered the room. Darby turned to face him and shook her head.

“You’ve been quiet. Are you in pain?”

“No, I…” she trailed off, uncertain how to finish. He was so composed when he looked at her, so solid and stable. How did he do that? At this point, Darby felt like a stiff breeze might break her apart and blow her away. What she wanted in this moment, she soon realized, was some signal or sign that Eli was as confused about her as she was about him, that maybe he was a little bit into her. Instead his face remained a polite mask, as if the giant rock through her window hadn’t interrupted a teenage-level of desperation makeout session.

He took a small step forward and touched her fingers. “Darby?” His hand was warm and solid, bestowing feeling to her cold and frozen appendages.

“I feel so lost,” she blurted.

“This has been a lot,” he said, taking another tentative step closer. “The surgery, the murder, the rock. It’s okay to feel a mess right now.”

She nodded her agreement. “It’s more than that, though.” She glanced at him, to see how that went over, but his face remained placid. “I feel like I’m this big blank space, no ambition, no interests. How have I filled my time the last five years? I have no idea.” She shook her head, disgusted and almost panicked with the empty canvas a review of her life presented.

Eli smiled. “You’re twenty-eight years old. You’ll get it figured out.”

“What if I don’t?” she whispered.

“Then so what? Who says you have to live some amazing life, worthy of Instagram followers? I oversee four nursing homes, and I can tell you a thousand percent that none of the stuff that matters at our age matters at theirs. The best, most wonderful patients I knew lived these tiny, quiet lives. No one knows who they are, few people care when they die, but they make their little corner of the world better, every moment they’re in it.”

“Sounds like you’re describing yourself,” she said and felt gratified to see him blush.

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