Page 58 of Coach
“No one wants to get sued. Even if what they are saying is the truth.” I paused. “Do you want to know more about the town?”
Este’s head slammed back against the door.
“Honestly? Can we put a pin in that? I feel like all I’ve been doing is thinking about the town and its people.”
“Is that why you look like you haven’t slept in days?”
“That’s part of it.”
Clearly, something happened recently, if she was suddenly suspicious of our seemingly quaint, normal small town.
But I wasn’t going to press if she was seeking me to escape from it.
“What’s the other part?”
“My stupid neighbor!”
Her arm flung out as she spoke, her voice going high, just shy of hysterical. Lack of sleep could do that to you. I knew from experience. There’d been times in the early days of being locked up when I didn’t sleep for long stretches, too anxious in the small cell, too irritated by my cellmate’s snoring.
“What have they been doing?”
“Home improvement. I know, I know. I’m being a hypocrite. I’ve been doing a lot of it too. But he’s doing it almost nonstop. All day. All night. There’s no break from it. I don’t even know when they sleep. It’s driving me insane. Like, literally. I feel like I’m going a little crazy.”
She looked it right then.
Wide-eyed.
Muscles tensed.
She was practically vibrating with frustration.
“How about you two crash here tonight?” I suggested. “We’re not having any parties, so it’s going to be nice and quiet.”
“I can’t ask—”
It was clearly why she was showing up, whether she wanted to admit it or not.
“You’re not. I’m offering. You can have a nice, calming bath. Then climb into a comfortable bed in a quiet house and get the sleep you desperately need.”
“Really?”
She looked ready to cry in relief.
“Really.”
Tears flooded her eyes.
“Okay.”
“Okay. How about you take a seat here while I scrub the tub?”
I moved to the side so she could see what I’d been working on in my free time.
“Oh, wow. That’s beautiful,” she said, stepping forward toward the small two-seater dining table. “You made this?” sheasked, her hand sliding over the mahogany surface with the intricate starburst inlay.
“I did.”
There was a warm, floating sensation in my chest at the awe on her face as she looked at the table I’d painstakingly worked on for her.
