Page 17 of Family Bonds- Emma & Warren

She supposed it came from being in her own company so much. She thought she was funny, but she’d never tell herself she wasn’t.

“Are you always this happy?” he asked.

“No,” she said. “Sometimes I’m miserable. I want to scream and shout. Or huff and puff and blow the place down.”

He snorted. “You’re funny.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I try.”

He laughed. “I don’t know if you’re joking or not.”

“Sometimes neither do I,” she said.

“Is that why you’re single?” he asked.

“We can go there,” she said. “As long as you answer the same questions as me.”

“Does that mean if you ask me one you’ve got to answer too?”

“Absolutely,” she said. “It’s only fair.”

“Okay,” he said. “Then let’s be fair. Why are you single?”

“A couple of reasons,” she said. “One. I’m kind of a hermit and not many men like or can appreciate it. The other is there are slim pickings on the island and I don’t like to leave it. So when you’re a hermit, your options are limited. Your turn.”

“I’m a hermit too when I can be,” he said. “So I understand your comment. I think women see me and assume I want to go out and party all the time. It’s the furthest thing from the truth. I like to get at least eight hours of sleep at night, if not more.”

Her jaw dropped. “Seriously? I’ve had nights I don’t go to bed at all.”

“That’s not healthy,” he said. “I hadn’t realized the bar was open that late.”

“It’s not,” she said. “That’s the only reason you’re single? Because I’m positive a lot of women would be a hermit to land you.”

“They would,” he said. “And those are the ones I’m running in the other direction from. I don’t need nor want anyone to feel as if theylandedme.”

“Ahhh,” she said, pointing her finger. “We can agree on that. I want a man to want me and not what I can bring to the table.”

He angled his head but then nodded. “I come from a very humble beginning. I haven’t forgotten where I came from and never will. The number of zeros in my account doesn’t give me happiness at the end of the day.”

“What does?” she asked.

“You’ll have to answer that too,” he said, grinning.

“I will. You first.”

“Self-fulfillment brings me happiness,” he said. “A sense of accomplishment. A purpose. It doesn’t have to be winning a game, scoring a touchdown, or cooking the perfect turkey burger.”

“Turkey burger,” she said almost crying. “That’s a crime.”

He laughed. “You should see your face. As I told my sister last weekend when she came to visit for the draft, I’ll lighten up when I retire.”

“The draft?” she asked.

“First you need to answer what brings you happiness and then I’ll explain the draft to you.”

“A good book always brings me happiness. It always has. Money, it’s there to make life easier, but you need a purpose or reason to get up each day. Kind of like what you said. All the money in the world is meaningless if you’re by yourself and are staring at an account like Scrooge. You have to figure out how to make yourself happy.”

“You get it,” he said. “I’ve spent a lot of nights with a good book.”