The Way We Weren't by Phoebe Fox

Author:Phoebe Fox [Fox, Phoebe]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2021-11-09T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

Flint was standing just inside the front door when she came back, as if he’d been looking out the window.

“What’d she say?” He turned toward his chair as she let herself in, reaching for the book he’d left there as if the answer were unimportant to him.

“She said she’ll put the bin out for the garbagemen.”

He stood with one hand on the book, the other supporting himself on his chair, his back to her. “Anything else?”

The question carried sharp edges. She was right—there was something between the two. Something more than feuding neighbors or former friends.

“Like what?” she asked.

“How the hell should I know? Was I there?”

She didn’t reply. Just waited. But the trick didn’t work with the stubborn old man this time, and he held his silence. “How’s your back?” she asked finally, and he grunted.

She stepped past him to the piecrust table and retrieved his prescription bottle. Shaking one pill out into her hand, she glanced a question at him as she hovered the bottle over her palm until he nodded.

“One’s fine.”

She laid it in his warm, dry hand, retreating to the kitchen and returning with a glass of water. “Did you already eat?” she asked.

“Go ahead.”

“I thought we could eat together.”

“Thought you weren’t hungry.” The words were clipped, and she heard the intentional echo of her own earlier.

She met his eye. “I had a hard conversation with my husband this afternoon. But actually I’m flat-out starving, so I’m going to go help myself to whatever is in there that smells so amazing, and if you want me to dish some up for you, we could actually eat simultaneously. Which might be nice.”

She thought she heard a snort, but he didn’t move.

She’d just spooned up the delicious-looking stew—a rich tomatoey broth studded with cabbage and carrots and potatoes and thick slices of sausage—and settled at the table when she heard Flint’s slightly shuffling steps come into the room. He stopped and looked at her.

“How is it?” he clipped out finally.

Marcie didn’t say anything for a moment; then she picked up her spoon and took a bite of the hot stew, chewing a chunk of spicy sausage as he watched her.

She swallowed. “It’s delicious. I’ve never tasted anything like it.”

He grunted. “Balsamic vinegar—a lot of it. Brings out layers of flavor.”

As she spooned up another bite, Flint walked over to the range, ladled a bowl for himself, and brought it back over to where she sat. She watched him carefully lower himself to the chair, pick up his own spoon, and start eating.

Marcie took a breath. “It turns out I’m going to be staying at the beach for a while. I wondered if it would be okay if I stayed with you a little longer.” She knew better than to suggest it was to help him out.

Suit yourself, she anticipated, or maybe just an indifferent shrug, or no reply at all. Maybe he wanted her out altogether.

Flint chewed a mouthful of stew, swallowed. “Yeah. That would be okay.

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