Page 38 of Pretend You Love Me
She’s adding some steamed broccoli and cut up fruit to plates on the counter. “I found these in your fridge. I hope this is okay. I also made a list.” She nudges her head toward the counter. I nod, seeing the grocery list.
“I’ll have groceries delivered tomorrow,” I say.
“Thanks,” she says quietly. “I hope this is okay. I don’t know what you like.”
“I’m not picky.”
“Oh good. Well, like I said, eggs always make me happy. If I get home from work, and I’m just too tired to cook, I just make some fried eggs and sourdough toast, and I’m a happy girl.”
Home from work? Did she lose her job? Leave it behind?
“What do you do for a work?”
She just gives me a sly side-eye. “Oh this and that. You?”
“This and that.” I take the plate from her.
“You always this secretive? I ask.
“Only when I need to be.”
“You can tell me if you’re in trouble,” I say looking up at her. She just stares at her plate.
“I’m not in trouble. I promise.” She doesn’t look up.
“Why are you running? Hiding? Whatever the hell this is?”
“Please, Kip, I can’t talk about it, but I’m not in any danger. I promise.”
“Did you break the law?” I say. I don’t particularly care unless she murdered someone or something.
She starts to laugh.
“What?” I say, confused.
“I did.” She’s laughing harder now.
I’m looking at her like her head has fallen off. “Why is that funny?”
“I snuck through the Canadian/American border in the trunk of a car.” She wipes away a tear as she laughs.
“What? Aren’t you an American? You don’t sound Canadian,” I say.
“Oh, I'm an American.”
“I don’t get it.”
“I didn’t want a record of me coming through the border,” she answers.
She’s still laughing, but I’m not. I'm dead serious now. Once she catches sight of my face, she stops laughing too.
“What?”
“Who are you afraid of?” I’m starting to get angry. Why would she be so afraid she’s being tracked and followed that she’s sneaking into fucking Alaska?
“I’m not afraid of anyone,” she says. “I promise.”
“Ginger, this makes no sense.”
