with customers.”
He stared up at the ceiling, appearing to mull over her observations. Then he gave her an amusing smile. “Sorry, that about covers it for me. Drinking and fighting are what I’m best at.”
“But you can replace shingles on a roof? There must be other things you’re good at?”
“There are other things I can do, but I’m not necessarily good at them. And most men know how to replace shingles on a roof. A compulsion for making minor household repairs is just one of the side effects of testosterone.”
Pamela immediately broke out into a fit of laughter.
A perplexed look came over Daniel’s face. “It wasn’t that funny,” he commented.
Pamela wiped a happy tear from the corner of her eye. “It’s just that my ex-husband always said manual labor was the result of not having enough intelligence to know how to avoid it.”
Daniel furrowed his brow at her. “Sounds like a great guy. How long were you married?”
“Eight years.”
“May I ask what happened?”
Pamela waved her hand casually in the air. “When I was diagnosed with lupus things started to fall apart. Bob tried to be the dutiful husband and help me through the bad patches, but after a few years he couldn’t handle it any more. So he asked for a divorce.”
“What an asshole,” Daniel said as he frowned at Pamela. “Why on earth did you marry him?”
“We met right after I was in a pretty bad car accident. He became my attorney and handled my lawsuit against the drunk driver who hit me. We wound up spending a lot of time together. Lunch meetings became dinner meetings and then our meetings turned into dates. I thought he was charming, kind, and would always be there for me. I was wrong.” She wrapped her arms about her body. “You ever been married?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No. I’m not cut out for long-term relationships. Most women get sick of my shit and quickly move on. It’s better that way. What happened today is something I never let anyone see. At times it becomes really hard hiding my PTSD from the world, but so far I have been able to keep most of my symptoms under control.”
“And when you can’t keep it under control anymore?”
“Then it will be time for me to move on. I’ll find a new town, and new people, who don’t know anything about me.”
“Is that what you have been doing? Moving from one town to the next to try and hide your condition?”
He turned away from her and went back to the couch. He removed the blanket from around his shoulders and picked up his bloody T-shirt. “It’s worked pretty well for me so far.”
“But you can’t go on like that forever, Daniel.”
He pulled the T-shirt over his head. “You don’t get it, Pamela,” he said with a hint of frustration in his voice. “For someone like me there isn’t a forever. Right now is about all I can handle.”
She stood in silence as she watched him neatly fold up the blanket and place it on her couch. He then picked up the half full glass of cognac and downed the contents in one long swallow.
“If you aren’t going to let me back on your roof, then I better head back to the city,” he grumbled as he banged the glass down on the coffee table.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be driving right now. Why not wait a while longer before you get behind the wheel?”
“I’m fine,” he said, avoiding her eyes. He moved to the front door. “I’ll come back tomorrow after lunch and finish the roof.” He reached for the doorknob. “Thanks for today, Pamela. I know what you must think of me, but I promise I will be out of your life soon.” And with that he opened the door and stepped out into the fading afternoon light.
Pamela felt her body jump as he slammed the door shut behind him. She closed her eyes and cursed her own insecurities for not allowing her to tell him what she was thinking. Her hands curled into fists as she tried to suppress the flood of emotion that was suddenly inundating her. She did not
He stared up at the ceiling, appearing to mull over her observations. Then he gave her an amusing smile. “Sorry, that about covers it for me. Drinking and fighting are what I’m best at.”
“But you can replace shingles on a roof? There must be other things you’re good at?”
“There are other things I can do, but I’m not necessarily good at them. And most men know how to replace shingles on a roof. A compulsion for making minor household repairs is just one of the side effects of testosterone.”
Pamela immediately broke out into a fit of laughter.
A perplexed look came over Daniel’s face. “It wasn’t that funny,” he commented.
Pamela wiped a happy tear from the corner of her eye. “It’s just that my ex-husband always said manual labor was the result of not having enough intelligence to know how to avoid it.”
Daniel furrowed his brow at her. “Sounds like a great guy. How long were you married?”
“Eight years.”
“May I ask what happened?”
Pamela waved her hand casually in the air. “When I was diagnosed with lupus things started to fall apart. Bob tried to be the dutiful husband and help me through the bad patches, but after a few years he couldn’t handle it any more. So he asked for a divorce.”
“What an asshole,” Daniel said as he frowned at Pamela. “Why on earth did you marry him?”
“We met right after I was in a pretty bad car accident. He became my attorney and handled my lawsuit against the drunk driver who hit me. We wound up spending a lot of time together. Lunch meetings became dinner meetings and then our meetings turned into dates. I thought he was charming, kind, and would always be there for me. I was wrong.” She wrapped her arms about her body. “You ever been married?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No. I’m not cut out for long-term relationships. Most women get sick of my shit and quickly move on. It’s better that way. What happened today is something I never let anyone see. At times it becomes really hard hiding my PTSD from the world, but so far I have been able to keep most of my symptoms under control.”
“And when you can’t keep it under control anymore?”
“Then it will be time for me to move on. I’ll find a new town, and new people, who don’t know anything about me.”
“Is that what you have been doing? Moving from one town to the next to try and hide your condition?”
He turned away from her and went back to the couch. He removed the blanket from around his shoulders and picked up his bloody T-shirt. “It’s worked pretty well for me so far.”
“But you can’t go on like that forever, Daniel.”
He pulled the T-shirt over his head. “You don’t get it, Pamela,” he said with a hint of frustration in his voice. “For someone like me there isn’t a forever. Right now is about all I can handle.”
She stood in silence as she watched him neatly fold up the blanket and place it on her couch. He then picked up the half full glass of cognac and downed the contents in one long swallow.
“If you aren’t going to let me back on your roof, then I better head back to the city,” he grumbled as he banged the glass down on the coffee table.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be driving right now. Why not wait a while longer before you get behind the wheel?”
“I’m fine,” he said, avoiding her eyes. He moved to the front door. “I’ll come back tomorrow after lunch and finish the roof.” He reached for the doorknob. “Thanks for today, Pamela. I know what you must think of me, but I promise I will be out of your life soon.” And with that he opened the door and stepped out into the fading afternoon light.
Pamela felt her body jump as he slammed the door shut behind him. She closed her eyes and cursed her own insecurities for not allowing her to tell him what she was thinking. Her hands curled into fists as she tried to suppress the flood of emotion that was suddenly inundating her. She did not
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