Page 8 of Love Deep

“That’s all you’re giving me?”

“It’s a long story,” I say.

Fisher must see my expression because he doesn’t press me.

“One for another time,” I assure him.

“But you still paint?” he asks.

“When I get the chance,” I say.

Truthfully, I do it more now than I have for a while. Riley’s older and more independent. And she likes coming to the studio with me. Painting with Riley is… different, but I still like it. Sharing that time with my daughter is so important. It feels sacred or something.

“So, what did you say you do for work?”

“I work in a school. I’m a teaching assistant.”

“Wow.” He slides his palm over his jaw. “I don’t know how you have the patience.”

I laugh. “It’s a question of lowering your expectations.”

He narrows his eyes, like he’s taking in something profound. “Yeah. I like that way of thinking about it. It’s a good way of going through life, too,” he says.

“What? Having low expectations?” I ask.

“Yeah, that way, you’re not disappointed.”

Something niggles in me at his observation. “I’m not so sure that’s true,” I say. “I mean, if you expect a six-year-old to behave like an adult, then you’re going to spend your life frustrated and annoyed. But in life? You gotta have expectations or… I find people live up or down to your expectations, whatever they may be.”

Fisher holds my gaze, and he’s about to speak when Byron interrupts.

“Hold that thought,” Fisher says.

He takes a shot, and I swear he misses on purpose. He barely looks at the table. I’m not complaining because that means he comes back to me quickly.

“Is that true in your experience?” he asks.

“What?” I ask.

“That if you expect people to be one way, they generally are.”

I take in a breath. I’ve not really thought about it before. “Yeah. I think so.”

“And if you expect nothing of someone, they’ll give you nothing?”

I shrug. This conversation has taken a turn I wasn’t expecting. I hadn’t planned to give him philosophical insight, just an understanding that, in my experience, people tend to turn out to be what you expect.

“I think I assume people are going to be assholes,” he says.

I tilt my head and look at him. He seems so carefree on first glance, but maybe that’s not true if you dig a bit deeper.

“I’m not sure,” I say.

“That people are assholes?” he asks.

“That you assume everyone’s going to be an asshole.”

His eyes widen in surprise, and then he regains his friendly expression and grins at me. “You’re an interesting woman, Juniper.”