Page 106 of Before We Say Goodbye
“The police? Honey, we’re in ag country. There aren’t any noise ordinances.”
“Then I’ll take matters into my own hands.”
She didn’t laugh; she cackled. “What does that mean? Take matters into your own hands. Are you going to go beat them up?”
“I don’t know, but you’re making light of the situation.”
Bec tugged his arm, forcing him to peel his stare away from the travesty. Holding his cheeks, not allowing his eyes to wander, she said, “Let them be. We’re in a different land now.”
He slumped in surrender. “I know we can’t expect everyone out here to show respect for the wines and vines, but lines must be drawn.”
“Maybe we should make them cookies and walk over there. Apparently they’re going to be here for a while.”
It was Otis’s turn to cackle. “Cookies? By gods, woman, you’re funny sometimes. Could we sneak a little rat poisoning in them? Now, there’s an idea.”
“In no way is that funny, Otis. And is it by God, or by gods, because you come off as not knowing whether you’re exclusive to one or a polytheist?”
“Depends on the day, my dear. How about a scoop of laxative?”
The music stopped, and a soothing quiet washed over the mountain. A stillness rose up Otis’s spine. “Ah, you hear that? I feel like someone was drowning me.”
Otis drew in a deep breath, sucking in the oxygen of silence.
“There you go, Otis. Let it go.”
Less than a minute later, the devil’s orchestra started up again. Otis broke away from Rebecca and rubbed his face and then pulled at his hair. “I can’t. I just can’t. I’m too old for this shit.”
“Too old? You’re in your forties. Please stop being such a drama king.”
“Drama king? I don’t think you’re hearing what I hear.”
“I do but choose to be okay with it.”
“Oh, here we go with the”—he gave air quotes—“choosing.You can’t alwayschoose.Well, maybe you can, but I can’t choose to ignore this commotion. I can’t choose to—”
Bec placed a hand on his chest. “I’m going to return to the kitchen to finish cooking.”
“How could you possibly cook while they’re tearing a hole in the sky?”
She ignored him. He turned back toward the neighbors, then raised his hands and stared up to the moon. “Are you enjoying yourself? Crushing my soul, torturing my vines. Am I not wanted here? Is that it? The coyotes beg to differ.”
The following afternoon, Bec stood at the door with her ginger cookies—Otis’s favorite—displayed on a tray and covered in plastic wrap.
“Don’t give them all of those. Come on. Did you leave any for me?” He poked one. They were soft and warm.
“Yes, you have a couple on the counter in there.”
“A couple? They get an entire batch?”
“Anda bottle of wine. Go grab something nice from the rack.”
His chest began to cave in. “They’re not wine people. Please don’t waste a bottle on them.”
Rebecca stomped on the hardwood floor. Actually stomped! “Otis, they are our neighbors. You want community, it starts with neighbors. Not everyone can be like you. Find the common ground.”
“Common ground? The only common ground is that we breathe air. It stops there.”
She stared at him till he broke.
