Page 61 of Resist Me Not
“Oh hush. You are adorable.” Lois grabs hold of both of our suitcases. Trey warned me to let her wheel them into the house. “So, what spurred this impromptu trip?”
“Trey didn’t, um, say?” I glance at him as we cross the threshold into the house, and Trey closes the door behind us. It's charmingly minimalist but not in that stark everything needs to be neutral sort of way. The living room walls are sage with matching furniture and marigold accents, making the place feel like a cozy country cottage.
“It didn’t feel it was my place to explain,” Trey answers.
Lois looks back at us from where she leaves our luggage by the stairs, patiently waiting for me to elaborate—if I want to.
I know I could choose to say I’d rather not go into detail, but Lois’s warmth, the warm hug of this place too that is such an echo of her, and an echo of Trey in the subtler ways he expresses himself, makes me want to.
“It’s okay. If I try to pretend like it didn’t happen, it’s not going to help me any,” I say first to Trey, and then look at Lois. “I lost a patient today.”
She immediately hugs me again, so suddenly that I’m too stunned at first to wrap my arms around her in return. “I am so sorry, dear. No one knows how difficult that can be better than someone else in the field.”
“That’s right. I forgot you’re a nurse.” I lift my arms finally to squeeze her back. It doesn’t need to be someone who gets it to offer comfort in times like this, but damn, does it help. “He wasn’t even my patient technically, but I got close to him while shadowing my mentor. He was too young to go, and I kind of needed to be anywhere but home.”
“I understand.” She squeezes a little tighter, much tighter than when greeting me, and lingers on the hug longer before letting me go. “And while I wish it was for better reasons, I am glad to have you here.” She pats my cheek, and it just happens to be the one with my scar. I can tell she notices it because she pats it again but a little gentler.
Trey said she doesn’t know about his secret side profession, but does she know how we met?
“Trey told me quite a bit about you last time.”
Yep, I think she does.
“Butnow I want to hear from you. Tell me about this fellowship of yours.”
I do, while we sit down for a late dinner, already prepared for us. Given some of Lois’s responses, I know Trey really did tell her quite a bit about me already, which is… weirdly sweet. Surprising, but sweet in a way that helps me feel better again and dry the sting of tears that had threatened to return, even more so than how amazing Lois’s truffle risotto is.
She adds bacon, mushrooms, and sage sausage to make it a main course and she made a simple spinach and tomato saladwith homemade vinaigrette. The tomatoes were from her own garden, all as home cooking as you please. Trey clearly learned his good taste in food from her.
After dinner, since it is late, given the timing of our flight, we sip on the remainders of the wine we had with the meal and listen to the record player from the porch—at the very same table Trey bought for our fourth date, I discover. He even sent his mother the fairy lights, which she hung from the porch too.
Lois had a whole lineup of records waiting for us, or possibly planned for herself anyway, to highlight the bands that will be playing at this summer concert tomorrow and Saturday. It’s rock night tomorrow with Foreigner headlining, and country the next night with names I don’t recognize. I like country music fine but I do not know who might be a draw in that genre. Regardless of who we’re listening to, however, the evening is pretty much perfect.
“I’m sure you’ve had plenty of similar summer nights at home with your family,” Lois says, while we’re lounging, Trey and I at the table and Lois on the porch swing.
“Not really?” I say it way too much like a question, which just begs for explanation. “Don’t get me wrong, my family is great. Supportive parents. Two younger siblings, one a high school science teacher, and one in finance. Nothing to complain about. I just never felt all that close with any of them. I wish I could say why, because I envy how easily Trey talks about you, missing you when he’s not here, and how important you are in his life. With my family, I enjoy being around them when I am around them, but when I’m not… they just aren’t on my mind. It kind of makes me feel guilty.”
“Oh, honey, don’t feel that way.” Lois leans forward to place a hand on my knee, since my chair is nearest to her. “It doesn’t mean you don’t love them, but people can love family who are nothing but terrible to them too. It’s a different sort of lovewhen you choose who you want to be around because they stir something in you that no one else can. We should all have the freedom to choose who we want to be around and who we don’t. You shouldn’t ever feel guilty about that.”
“That’s, um… wow,” I say, and it’s in that moment that I remember she killed her husband.
I know she doesn’t feel guilty about it, even knowing she doesn’t know that I know about it. She shouldn’t have to feel guilty. She should never have to feel guilty about ridding the world of someone awful to protect someone who deserves to be here. Who deserved to grow up happy and loved.
Right?
Trey startles me by reaching over to brush a tear from my cheek.
“S-sorry!” I stutter a little and sniffle back more tears. “I don’t know why that’s making me all weepy all of a sudden.” I wipe my eyes in the wake of Trey’s help.
Lois’s hand is still on my knee, and she squeezes as supportively as she hugged me earlier. “Maybe it’s just something you needed to hear. But now I’m the one who feels guilty, because I need to go to bed.” She pats my knee and stands. We stand with her, like good polite boys should. “I have an early shift tomorrow, but only until lunchtime. You boys stay up as late as you want.” She kisses Trey’s cheek, but me she hugs. I sink into it and let her hold me for as long as she wants, because it seems I need it.
Does she really have no idea about Trey, I wonder? I’ll never know, because keeping Trey’s secret means I could never discuss it with her either.
“Sleep in and don’t worry about a thing,” she says when she releases me. “Until Vivienne comes knocking tomorrow far earlier than necessary to discuss potluck and refreshments for the concert.”
I laugh, and so does Trey. Lois told me all about Vivienne the vivacious neighbor.
“Good night, you two.” She brings her empty wine glass with her.
