Page 72
Story: Royally Benevolent
WHIPLASH
ODETTE
“Ain’t No Sunshineagain?” Rick entered the music room.
“That’s enough judgment,” I said.
“It’s been all morning. Why are you down, Odie?”
He sat on the couch in my eyeline, holding a book of French swears.
“What are you reading that for?”
“I am broadening my horizons. You don’t want to know why,” Rick said. “I can assure you. Answer the question, Odette.”
I grimaced. If that had to do with Alex’s weird fantasy, I definitely wantednothingto do with it.
“Oh, get your head out of the gutter! I have a bet with a buddy I cannot fluently swear in French. I had to read up since neither you nor Alex will teach me, and the deviant ones are abroad. Does this still have to do with the accident?”
“No,” I sighed. “I talked that out in therapy. It’s stupid, and… music is how I process things.”
“And while you are a beautiful musician, and I can appreciate that, I need some variety.”
I started playing Adele’s “Hello.”
“Nope. Not that. Try again.”
I snickered. “So, it’s weird. Ever since I invited Wyatt to dinner, he’s like... shut down. I shouldn’t care, I guess. We weren’t dating.”
“Okay, but I can tell you like him. I also think the feeling is mutual. So, have you asked him what is up?”
“No,” I winced. “I don’t want to feel stupid.”
“Why feel stupid?”
“Because I don’t want to throw myself at him in a desperate attempt.”
“Desperation is trying to do anything to fix the bride’s wedding dress days before the wedding, hoping she won’t ignore you for the rest of your married life. And sometimes desperation works.”
“Okay, but I didn’t do anything wrong. What am I guilty of? Beingtookind? Trying to invite him over? Maybe I’m just too extra.”
I looked down.
Rick approached, gesturing. “Scootch.”
I moved just enough so he could sit on the piano bench beside me. I watched him play a terrible rendition ofTwinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.
“Kari does a better job,” I giggled.
“Well, I took a shot. You miss all the ones you don’t take.”
“I could teach you to actually play,” I offered.
“Nah. I have to learn how to swear.”
“Priorities,” I snickered.
“For real.”
ODETTE
“Ain’t No Sunshineagain?” Rick entered the music room.
“That’s enough judgment,” I said.
“It’s been all morning. Why are you down, Odie?”
He sat on the couch in my eyeline, holding a book of French swears.
“What are you reading that for?”
“I am broadening my horizons. You don’t want to know why,” Rick said. “I can assure you. Answer the question, Odette.”
I grimaced. If that had to do with Alex’s weird fantasy, I definitely wantednothingto do with it.
“Oh, get your head out of the gutter! I have a bet with a buddy I cannot fluently swear in French. I had to read up since neither you nor Alex will teach me, and the deviant ones are abroad. Does this still have to do with the accident?”
“No,” I sighed. “I talked that out in therapy. It’s stupid, and… music is how I process things.”
“And while you are a beautiful musician, and I can appreciate that, I need some variety.”
I started playing Adele’s “Hello.”
“Nope. Not that. Try again.”
I snickered. “So, it’s weird. Ever since I invited Wyatt to dinner, he’s like... shut down. I shouldn’t care, I guess. We weren’t dating.”
“Okay, but I can tell you like him. I also think the feeling is mutual. So, have you asked him what is up?”
“No,” I winced. “I don’t want to feel stupid.”
“Why feel stupid?”
“Because I don’t want to throw myself at him in a desperate attempt.”
“Desperation is trying to do anything to fix the bride’s wedding dress days before the wedding, hoping she won’t ignore you for the rest of your married life. And sometimes desperation works.”
“Okay, but I didn’t do anything wrong. What am I guilty of? Beingtookind? Trying to invite him over? Maybe I’m just too extra.”
I looked down.
Rick approached, gesturing. “Scootch.”
I moved just enough so he could sit on the piano bench beside me. I watched him play a terrible rendition ofTwinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.
“Kari does a better job,” I giggled.
“Well, I took a shot. You miss all the ones you don’t take.”
“I could teach you to actually play,” I offered.
“Nah. I have to learn how to swear.”
“Priorities,” I snickered.
“For real.”
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