Page 130 of Windlass

“You strike me as a young woman who has worked hard on her own to better herself as best she can. Sometimes when we want to change, we don’t realize that over time we have. It is our conception of ourself that no longer matches the reality, not the other way around. Accepting vulnerability isn’t easy for most people, and you’ve had more reason than most to distrust complacency. This doesn’t sound complacent. It sounds like the beginning of a marvelous new chapter as long as you remember that you are the one writing it.”

“Isn’t that the problem?” asked Angie.

“Not if you give yourself a little more agency. Stevie trusts you, and it sounds like she knows you well. Do you doubt her judgment?”

“Yes,” she said because she couldn’t merely agree with this woman, and because Stevie had a blind spot where Angie was concerned.

“Consider trusting her. Do you have a plan for how you might bring it up?”

She had a thousand, and none felt right. “When it feels right?”

“Under what circumstances has it felt right previously, but for other reasons you were not ready?”

Every other minute?

“Why don’t you think about that for your homework. You don’t have to express your feelings to Stevie if you’re not ready. Instead, try and identify the types of moments you feel love for her most strongly.” Vera paused. “And the financial stress? Your roof? How is that going?”

“My friend Ivy offered to pay for it. I said no.”

“How did that offer of help make you feel?”

“Uncomfortable. She offered to float me a loan if this one doesn’t work out, but I’d feel . . .”

“Supported?”

“Indebted.”

“Before you go too far down that track, Angela, remember that many people have family safety nets they can fall back on. You don’t have that with your biological family, but you do have your chosen family. Does Ivy strike you as the sort of friend who would hold this over you?”

“No.” In fact, Ivy had said something similar, which was irritating. “But it makes me uncomfortable. At least if I can’t pay back a bank I don’t lose a friend.”

“But you do feel more comfortable accepting help from Stevie now.”

“Yes.”

“Does she know how big a step that is for you?”

“She would if I could tell her I loved her like a normal person.”

Vera stared at her, disapproval over Angie’s word choice evident in themoueof her mouth. She let it go, however, which was somehow more infuriating than being called out, because it implied Vera knew Angie was well aware of the fallacy. She rather wished Vera would underestimate her intelligence, instead of the other way around.

Personal growthhurt.

Stevie held Olive’s lead line loosely in her hand, the rising tide of cricket song ushering in the sunset. The shadows of the apple trees reached toward the house, young apples green on their branches and dusky purple shadows on the undersides of the leaves. Angie lay on Olive’s back, head balanced on her rump, staring at the bleeding sky. It wasn’t a particularly safe thing to do, but Olive spooked rarely, and Stevie knew the allure of creature comfort promised by a horse’s warm back.

Olive browsed the orchard grass with enthusiasm, perfectly content.

“The sky’s so clear.” Angie’s voice was drowsy with contentment. Light limned her profile, setting a thin ripple of flame across her brow and down the loose fall of her hair. Stevie’s heart overflowed its banks in a joy so fierce it hurt. This quiet moment. This was all she’d ever wanted. This. Her. Angie.

“Nice sunset.” An understatement, but Angie would forgive her. It was a nice sunset, more than nice. Perfect. She wished every day could end like this.

“Yeah.” A half smile curved Angie’s lips. She turned her head to appraise Stevie. “We could stargaze later.”

“Yeah, we—holy shit, Ange!” With a hushed voice, she pointed toward the sky. Overhead in the purpling blue, light burned across the firmament. She imagined she could hear the hiss of atmosphere curdling around the astral body’s entry, flame lighting up the dark as the meteor struck high and fast above them. She watched its passage into darkness, green flame flickering and fading.

Angie sat up on Olive’s back, eyes wide with wonder. “I’ve never seen something like that before.”

“Must be a meteor. Aren’t there showers in August?”

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