Read Online Woodlands by Robin Jones Gunn - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Robin Jones Gunn
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make room for him. She could, should, and would stand her ground.
“Look,” Leah said, “you obviously have a point you want to make. Go ahead and make it.”
Seth looked surprised. But not too surprised. “Okay, here’s my point. I think you are the Glenbrooke Zorro.”
Leah looked at her coffee cup and ran her finger around the white ceramic mug’s rim. She had met her match when it came to standing her ground. Lifting her eyes to meet his, she said, “Why do you say that?”
“Oh, no. Uh-uh. No,” he said, shaking his head and giving her a subdued smile. “If I can’t be coy with you, you can’t becoy with me. Come on, George. Level with me.”
“George?” she repeated. As soon as she said it, she realized he was making reference to their George Bailey-Wonderful Life conversation.
Did he just give me a nickname?
The small gesture warmed Leah in an unexpected way. While she was growing up, she always wanted her dad to give her a nickname to prove his affection. She thought a boy’s name would be the best because then she would know he had come to consider her equal to the son she should have been. But her father only called her Leah. Everyone only called her Leah. She didn’t even have a middle name.
“You’re the Glenbrooke Zorro, aren’t you?” Seth pressed her again.
Leah impulsively decided to risk everything for the sake of being honest with this man. “Yes, I am.”
Seth slapped his knee. “I thought so! I was almost positive.”
“Why?” Leah asked. “Why do you even need to know? What does it matter?” It struck her that she had just confessed to him something she had never told anyone. Was this level of vulnerability the price she had to pay for a relationship with someone “stable”?
I don’t know if I’m ready for this
.
“Some guys were talking about it at work today. One of them said his sister just had a baby, and her husband had surgery a few days later. He said someone left groceries for them on their doorstep and that the Glenbrooke Zorro was back. That’s when they gave me the history on this invisible superhero. Or should I say superheroine?”
Leah felt as if Seth, who was practically a stranger, had just run in and stolen something vital to the core of her identity. Her secret deliveries all these years had been her one private,silent source of delight. The secrecy allowed her to feel that even though she was only a “Leah” she could do noble things.
This is my secret. What is he doing sharing my secret?
“You probably feel pretty proud of yourself, don’t you?” Leah said, pulling back and crossing her legs in the other direction to put a definite distance between them.
“Why?”
“Because no one else has figured it out. You come to town, and three days later,” she snapped her fingers for emphasis, “you solve the mystery.” Leah crossed her arms and gave him an angry look, which was not completely in jest.
“Oh, come on,” Seth said, playfully tagging her shoulder. “Do you mean to tell me that no one has ever challenged the identity of this anonymous gift-giver?”
Leah shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Seth sat back and in a more serious tone said, “You know what? Your secret is safe with me. I promise I won’t tell anyone.”
Leah tried to relax. This was what she wanted: a close friendship with someone she could trust, someone with whom she could be open and honest. If self-disclosure and vulnerability were the price she had to pay, maybe it was a fair price.
“About a year ago,” Leah began, leaning back, “Kenton at the
Glenbrooke Gazette
wrote an editorial. He was the one who used the term, ‘Glenbrooke Zorro.’ ”
“Is that right?”
Leah nodded.
“And how did people react?”
“Everyone was talking about it and coming up with all these ridiculous speculations as to whom the Glenbrooke Zorro could be. I felt like telling some of the people at work that it was me, just so they would stop with the dumb guesses. I
“Look,” Leah said, “you obviously have a point you want to make. Go ahead and make it.”
Seth looked surprised. But not too surprised. “Okay, here’s my point. I think you are the Glenbrooke Zorro.”
Leah looked at her coffee cup and ran her finger around the white ceramic mug’s rim. She had met her match when it came to standing her ground. Lifting her eyes to meet his, she said, “Why do you say that?”
“Oh, no. Uh-uh. No,” he said, shaking his head and giving her a subdued smile. “If I can’t be coy with you, you can’t becoy with me. Come on, George. Level with me.”
“George?” she repeated. As soon as she said it, she realized he was making reference to their George Bailey-Wonderful Life conversation.
Did he just give me a nickname?
The small gesture warmed Leah in an unexpected way. While she was growing up, she always wanted her dad to give her a nickname to prove his affection. She thought a boy’s name would be the best because then she would know he had come to consider her equal to the son she should have been. But her father only called her Leah. Everyone only called her Leah. She didn’t even have a middle name.
“You’re the Glenbrooke Zorro, aren’t you?” Seth pressed her again.
Leah impulsively decided to risk everything for the sake of being honest with this man. “Yes, I am.”
Seth slapped his knee. “I thought so! I was almost positive.”
“Why?” Leah asked. “Why do you even need to know? What does it matter?” It struck her that she had just confessed to him something she had never told anyone. Was this level of vulnerability the price she had to pay for a relationship with someone “stable”?
I don’t know if I’m ready for this
.
“Some guys were talking about it at work today. One of them said his sister just had a baby, and her husband had surgery a few days later. He said someone left groceries for them on their doorstep and that the Glenbrooke Zorro was back. That’s when they gave me the history on this invisible superhero. Or should I say superheroine?”
Leah felt as if Seth, who was practically a stranger, had just run in and stolen something vital to the core of her identity. Her secret deliveries all these years had been her one private,silent source of delight. The secrecy allowed her to feel that even though she was only a “Leah” she could do noble things.
This is my secret. What is he doing sharing my secret?
“You probably feel pretty proud of yourself, don’t you?” Leah said, pulling back and crossing her legs in the other direction to put a definite distance between them.
“Why?”
“Because no one else has figured it out. You come to town, and three days later,” she snapped her fingers for emphasis, “you solve the mystery.” Leah crossed her arms and gave him an angry look, which was not completely in jest.
“Oh, come on,” Seth said, playfully tagging her shoulder. “Do you mean to tell me that no one has ever challenged the identity of this anonymous gift-giver?”
Leah shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Seth sat back and in a more serious tone said, “You know what? Your secret is safe with me. I promise I won’t tell anyone.”
Leah tried to relax. This was what she wanted: a close friendship with someone she could trust, someone with whom she could be open and honest. If self-disclosure and vulnerability were the price she had to pay, maybe it was a fair price.
“About a year ago,” Leah began, leaning back, “Kenton at the
Glenbrooke Gazette
wrote an editorial. He was the one who used the term, ‘Glenbrooke Zorro.’ ”
“Is that right?”
Leah nodded.
“And how did people react?”
“Everyone was talking about it and coming up with all these ridiculous speculations as to whom the Glenbrooke Zorro could be. I felt like telling some of the people at work that it was me, just so they would stop with the dumb guesses. I
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