Page 33 of Since We're Here
“Why not?”
“Sheep generally don’t like being sheared. And they’re my pets, not a source of clothing or rugs.”
She giggles and I hate how the sound makes me grin.
“Wait a minute.” Maddie gasps and presses her palms to her cheeks.
“What?” I pause with a helmet in each hand.
“The flat. Your flat. It’s decorated entirely in sheep decor. That was your doing. You love sheep.”
“Love is a strong word.” I do my best to keep my face expressionless, but a corner of my mouth twitches.
“There’s a sheep shower curtain.”
“So?”
“And dish towels.”
“Your point?”
“The salt and pepper shakers, Patrick. They’re sheep heads.”
“Fine. I like sheep.”
“That’s... more than I can process right now. Can I meet your sheep?”
“No.” I toss her a helmet—an extra I have—and she catches it. “Put that on.”
“Please?” She wriggles the helmet on her head, and damn, she looks fecking adorable. But it’s a wee bit big on her.
“Absolutely not.”
“Do they have names? They must, if they’re your pets.”
“They do, and it’s none of your business. Check your bike. It’s a spare I had lying around. Is the seat the right height?” I asked my big cyclist neighbor if she had a bike I could borrow, and she offered to sell me this one. So... I bought it. Not for Maddie only, obviously, but it’ll be good to have an extra. Erin is in the middle of a huge growth spurt, and she’ll probably need a new bike soon, anyway.
“It’s perfect.” She throws a leg over the bike and settles on the seat with one foot firmly on the ground, then loses her balance and almost falls over. While standing still.
“Jaysus.”
“What? I’m fine. No worries.” Maddie adjusts the helmet on her head. “Do you have other farm animals?”
“No. But my neighbor has a goat with newborn babies.” Why am I telling her this?
“Awww. Baby goats are so cute.”
“Are they? Whatever.”
“Can I meet the baby goats, if I can’t meet your sheep?”
“Let’s go.” I don’t answer her ridiculous question and instead swing onto my bike and push off toward the road, cycling slowly and speaking to her over my shoulder. “Stay on the left side of the road, close to the edge. The cars will go around you and you’ll be grand as long as you ride steady.”
“It can’t be worse than the other day. At least I’m not wearing my glasses in the pouring rain.”
I ignore her quip, and a vision of her dripping wet in a sports bra flashes in my head.
“This is about ten kilometers each way. We’ll stop halfway at the best viewpoint in Slea Head. Then we’ll continue to Dunquin, take another quick break, and head back. Should take us about one hour and a quarter, maybe an hour and a half.”
