Page 73
Story: The Outsider
He had forgotten that he was a man.
Right now, she was reminding him of that.
“So how are things going with the brewing?”
“Good. Getting antsy for that next meeting. Denver is thinking that it might be good if I am present.”
“Are you comfortable with that?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never presented in front of people. I’ve never been treated like I was an expert in anything. Well. Except petty crime.”
“Yeah.” He realized that they had never talked about that with any real seriousness.
“You know I read your record.”
“Yeah. I do.”
“Mostly taking food and first-aid items.”
“Yeah,” she said, casting her rod again. “Listen, I like to pretend that I’m a hardened criminal, but mostly I was just sad and desperate. With some distance from it, I feel like I can admit that.” She looked down.
It was still hard for her to come to terms with. That was for sure.
“Why do you need to be hard?”
“Because it’s the only thing that helps you survive. When everything is hard, what’s the point of being sad about it?”
“I can relate to that,” he said, setting his pole down so that he could bait his hook. “When Denver bought the ranch out from my dad, he was really clear with all of us that our dad was toxic and needed to be out of our lives. I knew that. I knew that I didn’t like who I was when I was with him. But I didn’t know what to do about it. I still cared about him. And I was angry that Denver sent him away, even though I knew it was the right thing to do. That was when I decided to go to police academy.”
“I don’t get how those two things are connected,” she said.
“Because I didn’t trust myself to not just become my dad if I didn’t have a very rigid framework to live my life in. And that’s all I’ve done. Ever since then. You asked me what my dreams were, and I guess it’s just to do more good than harm. But I don’t trust myself to do it outside of... the system.”
She chuckled. “Well. In that way we are very different.”
“Yes. We are.”
He sidled up to where she was, keeping a healthy amount of space between them so that when he cast he wouldn’t hit her with his hook.
They stood there, bathing in the last little bit of sun, their lines in the water.
“I’m going to catch the fish before they make their way downstream to you,” she said.
“I can handle that.”
“I don’t want your charity fish, Daughtry.”
“Too bad.”
“Is that why you took me in? Atonement?”
He firmed his jaw, trying to figure out how to answer the question. Because there was honesty, and he had a feeling it would hurt her feelings. And also, the honest answer was complex, and he didn’t know if he could give it without exposing pieces of himself that he would rather keep private.
“Maybe. A little bit at first. But primarily, all I could think was... if my dad found you on our land, he wouldn’t have helped you. And sometimes, when I don’t know which way is north, I can find south by figuring out what my father would have done, and do the opposite of that.”
“I want to do that,” she said. “I want to... change the way that I see things. I want to do more than just survive.”
There was something about her words that echoed inside of him. He felt drawn to her. There was something in her, and it was more than just beauty. It was the spirit that she had. That fight that she carried with her. For no real reason. Because everything in her lifehad been difficult. He had his siblings. He had this ranch.
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