Page 3 of Flick

Beth nodded in the darkening sky. “Mine too. The sounds of the water coupled with the animals are peaceful.”

Flick chuckled, and Beth turned her head to stare at him.

“Snake,” he said.

She giggled, then smiled. “I don’t think I’ve ever run that fast in my life, and I couldn’t even keep up with you.”

Flick shuddered. “I can handle a lot of things, but a six-foot-long snake slithering faster than I’ve ever seen across the path we were walking on scared me. I am not ashamed to admit I am a big friggin’ baby about snakes. I hate them, but I’d always pictured them sitting on a rock or coiled. I never imagined they could move that fast. I mean, city boy here. We didn’t have snakes.”

“I needed this tonight. Thanks,” Beth said.

“I figured,” Flick said.

“I’m so happy for Jesse and Cannon. I love that she’s finally getting her happily ever after. She’s happier than I’ve ever seen her. But I’m so mad at myself for letting myself become ‘that woman,’” Beth said softly.

Flick slid his arm around her. He was a good best friend. She hugged him on his worst days, and he hugged her on hers. It wasn’t anything sexual. It was a friend offering comfort.

“I get you’re mad at yourself, but heck, you’ve taken all the classes for Kathryn’s Wings to help people who have gone through abusive situations. Imagine a woman you’ve rescued has gone through the same situation you went through. If you’re in charge of her intake, what will you say to her?” Flick said.

Beth rolled her eyes. “I friggin’ hate it when you make sense and just steamroll over my arguments with a couple of sentences.”

“You didn’t answer the question,” Flick said.

Beth shrugged off his arm and stood up, pacing back and forth across the little clearing. Sometimes he could be so irritating. If someone came to her through their organization and had gone through the same things she had, Beth would tell her it wasn’t her fault.

“Why are you my best friend?” she muttered.

Flick chuckled, and she considered tackling him and rubbing dirt and leaves in his hair. He was particular about his hair. His middle brother had spit his gum into Flick’s hair when he was younger. His mom was at work, and his oldest brother had decided they should cut the gum out. Flick had a chunk out of his hair until he could get it cut shorter. The incident had made him very fastidious about his hair.

“Listen, pretty boy, I’m considering mussing up your hair,” Beth said.

Flick stood up and walked toward her. “I didn’t say that to make you mad. What would you say to her?” he asked.

“I’d friggin’ tell her it wasn’t her fault and that abusers are masters at gaslighting people. That it’s so insidious that the abusee doesn’t even realize what’s happening. But Flick, it doesn’t make me feel better at all,” Beth said.

“I know it doesn’t make you feel better yet. But you needed to say aloud that it wasn’t your fault. I know you think you should have figured it out, but sometimes, we can’t see what’s right in front of us when it involves us. It’s so much easier to see when it’s happening to someone else. But I missed it too. I didn’t like the guy but didn’t realize what he was doing. How about you agree to start forgiving yourself, and I will refrain from bringing up every Sunday how thankful I am that I don’t have to hear him ruin my lunch?” Flick asked.

Beth grinned. Flick seemed to help her get to the heart of an issue. She didn’t know what she’d do without her best friend. How would it work when they each found someone? Would their spouses be jealous of them being best friends and demand they not see each other?

“Let’s walk over to the deer area and see if we sit quietly if we can see the mama deer and her fawn.”

Beth followed Flick as he led her to the spot where they frequently saw deer. It was far enough away from the parking lots that the motors didn’t disturb them. Flick paused by a tree and motioned for her to look. She leaned against his arm and looked around him. The mama deer and a fawn were eating something on the ground.

Beth stood there watching them for a little bit, letting the weight of what she’d been carrying start to slide away. She couldn’t just let everything go immediately, but it was a start. Maybe if she repeated to herself that it wasn’t her fault, she could start forgiving herself for putting herself in that situation.

The call of a bird had the deer jerking and looking around. When the deer spotted them, she twitched her tail, and both she and the fawn ran from them.

Flick nodded back toward the bike. She nodded back, and they walked down the path, the only sound was the waves against the shore, the crunching of the path, and birds calling. She took adeep breath and decided that she would try not to be as angry at herself. It didn’t hurt anyone besides herself, and it definitely didn’t help anyone.

They walked back to the bike as the sun was rising.

“Breakfast at the diner?” Flick asked.

“Yep, and I’ll even pay. Dr. Flick deserves to be compensated for helping pull my head out of my ass,” Beth said.

“I’ll let you pay, but only because I plan on getting the takeout for our movie night this week,” Flick said, fastening his helmet and then getting on the bike.

“What are we watching?” she asked, fastening her own helmet and then getting on the bike behind Flick.

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