Ten Below Zero(26)

A smile threatened. I looked at Everett and then at Doris again. “Great.”



“You sure showed some balls,” Everett said on the walk home. My hands were tucked into my apron as we moved down the sidewalk.

“Why does everyone think an act of bravery is merely a male trait?” I asked, annoyed. As usual.

“Would it be better if I said you showed some ovaries?”

“Not funny – and no. It would be better if you said nothing.”

“Ouch.” Everett said, exaggeratingly holding a hand over his heart. “Your Native American name would be She Thinks She Wounds With Words.”

That annoyed me, as usual. I narrowed my eyes. “Your Native American name would be Man With Unkempt Hair.”

“You can do better than that,” Everett said, bumping into me from the side. I walked further out of his reach. “You did a number with your words two nights ago.”

My mind had replayed my words to him over and over, on a continuous loop. “It was the truth. You appreciate the truth.”

“I do,” he nodded. “But what you said? It didn’t bother me. You’ll have to try harder than that to hurt me.”

“Why would I want to hurt you? I don’t care about you, one way or another.”

He clicked his tongue. “Parker, I thought we’d established that I preferred the truth. You’re not very good at the lying thing.”

This conversation was elevating my annoyance with each one of his comments. “I barely know you,” I protested, careful to keep my voice even. “You’re just some guy who hangs around me like a lost puppy.”

“And yet, you met me at the bar. And you came to the restaurant the next morning, and you came to me for lunch later that day. And then you came to my house for dinner the next night. Who’s chasing who, Parker?”

My jaw was clenched so hard I was sure I was going to crack my teeth into tiny bits. I was unused to conversation, especially with a man who made me feel. It kept me off balance. Cloaking myself in indifference was impossible around Everett. I stopped suddenly and turned to him. “You’re an *,” I said, looking him square in the eye. “Just because you say things that are true, it doesn’t make you an admirable person. Some people need to hear a lie.”

Everett motioned his hands in a circle. “Tell me more, tell me all of it Parker.” He looked amused, patronizing. And it only made me madder.

“You dare to call me a coward, when you’re the one who is giving up on life. How dare you tell me how to live, when you’re dying?” My voice had raised several octaves, but I wasn’t done. “You’re dying, Everett. Wake up.” I pushed a finger into his chest. “You’re a drunk, you don’t value the women you sleep with, and you stick your nose in business that isn’t yours.”

Everett walked towards me, invading the few feet that had separated us. “So let me get this straight. You think I’m an *. Yep, I am. Get over it, sweetheart.” He took another step towards me. “You say I’m not admirable because I tell the truth even when it hurts. I agree. But,” he said, his voice lowering, “I don’t care. I don’t tell the truth for admiration. I tell the truth because lies hurt more. Lies wrapped up in pretty words don’t benefit anyone in the end.” He stepped closer and I backed up. “And you don’t know a thing about me, to say I am giving up on life. I spent years of my life fighting this disease. I wasn’t living, not really. And now I am living and I’m dying.” He stepped closer and I stepped back once again. “Don’t you dare criticize how I am spending the final days of my life when you’re not even living.” He brought a hand up and pulled on the hair that lay on my chest. “I am a drunk. You’re correct. But Parker? I always value a woman I sleep with. Charlotte and I are over. We never even really began. And before you assume how I treated her, maybe you should get both sides of the story.”

He tugged the hair hard enough to pull me closer. “I value women, Parker. But you don’t. You don’t value anyone.”

It hurt, the way he spoke to me, the way he invaded my space. But I refused to look away. I met his eyes and stared back. Indifference felt like another planet to how Everett made me feel, and there was no way I could pretend he didn’t affect me.

“And I don’t stick my nose in business that isn’t mine. You gave me the key. Did you expect me not to open the door? Not to find out about Morris Jensen?”

I didn’t know what to say.

“Listen,” he continued in the silence. “You think you hurt me with the things you say? You don’t. Nothing can hurt me. That’s the beauty of my death sentence.”

He was only making me madder. It bothered me that he could hurt me and I couldn’t hurt him back. “Why are you so focused on me then?”

Everett smiled and looked down at my hair in his hand. He twirled one of the waves around, twisting it and letting go. “Because I’m a self-serving bastard. Don’t get me wrong, I want to help you. But I also want to hurt you. I want to break you. I want to see you live.” He looked back at me. “I’m stuck on you, unfortunately. And my conscience won’t let me leave this earth seeing you live so half-heartedly.”

I sucked in air. I couldn’t breathe. “What if I like the way I live?”