Page 70 of River Wild

“Well … no.”

“Go get the fucking shears, Red.”

Sigh.“Fine.”

I go and retrieve my pruning shears from the cabinet under the sink where I keep my gardening things and take them to River.

“You want anything to drink?” I ask him as I hand the shears over.

“Coffee. Black.”

“Like your heart,” I quip and then instantly regret it. “Ugh. Sorry, that was rude.”

Especially after he took me to get the tree and is now helping me with it.

He stops and looks at me. “Don’t be sorry. I’ve said worse things to you.”

Has he though? He’s said some jerky stuff but nothing as bad as that.

Turning away, I walk back into the kitchen, but guilt is prickling at me. I stop in the doorway and look back at him over my shoulder. “River …”

He doesn’t look at me, but I know he’s listening.

“I don’t think your heart is black.”

No response.

“River …”

“I heard you, Red. You don’t think my heart is black.”

“No, not that.” I turn fully to face him. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Do I have to answer?”

“Only if you want to.”

“I really don’t.”

“Okay.”

“For fuck’s sake.” He sighs and turns to look at me. “What is it?”

I feel a bit stupid now. But I started this, so I have to forge on. I rub my hands together. “Well, I was just wondering … are we … friends?”

“Wait.” He holds up a hand. “Have I just defied the laws of time and traveled back to grade school?”

“Funny.”

“I know. And, no, Red, we aren’t friends.”

“Oh. Right.” My heart dips. I bite my lower lip to stop it from turning down.

He sighs again. “I don’t do friends, Carrie.” His voice is lower now. “But, if I did, then you’d be the closest thing I have to one.”

“Oh,” I say again, brightening up. I’m biting back a smile now. Because, for River, I’d say that’s as good as an admission that we are friends that I’m going to get.

I step into the kitchen and put the kettle on. While I wait for it to boil, I let Buddy outside to take a leak and watch him from the deck.