Page 13 of Redeem

“I don’t know,” she finally said. “Just wanted the challenge I guess.”

She looked at me directly in the eyes, which wasn’t uncommon, but this time her gaze was different. There was a distance in her eyes. She was tentative, holding back, seemed unwilling to share this thing that was so obviously dear to her. I wondered if that hesitance was a result of my actions, feared that it was.

Part of me wanted to recoil from that truth, but instead of pulling back as I should have, I decided to push.

“I don’t believe you,” I said. Her eyes flashed, her brows furrowing as she gave me a humorless smile. “You’re calling me a liar?” she said.

“About this. Yes.”

“Hmmm,” she hummed, though she made no effort to contradict me, nor did she try to correct me.

Instead she flicked the metal tab on her can, her expression more distant now, her eyes unfocused.

“Like I said,” she added a moment later, looking at me with an expression devoid of any emotion, “I couldn’t beat the price.”

“That’s also a lie,” I said.

She chuckled then, the sound as humorless as her smile had been. “I might get offended if you keep that up,” she said.

I didn’t believe her. Dana didn’t strike me as the type who offended easily.

“I don’t think you will,” I replied, deciding to test my conclusion. I shouldn’t have, but I was finding it hard to resist learning more about her.

“You sound so certain. Anyway, why does it matter?”

It was a defensive move, one where she tried to push me off my position, but I wasn’t so easily deterred. I also found myself desperately curious as to why she was here, why this place mattered so much.

“I guess it doesn’t. Just making conversation,” I said.

She smiled and this time the expression was genuine. “Now who’s the liar?”

I took a sip of my own drink, then looked at her. I was surprised, but I guess I shouldn’t have been. I hadn’t really had any expectations about Dana, hadn’t even considered what her personality would be like. But with each passing moment, I was learning more, and what I’d seen told me she was quite perceptive.

That perceptiveness was just another warning that I should stay away, but I ignored that, kept plunging forward, knowing all the while that doing so was foolish at best. I went quiet, considering my words. Then, I said, “I’m curious. This isn’t what most people would do.”

It was true. I was curious, though not for the reasons she might have expected. And it was an odd choice. Had I considered it deeply, I would have guessed Dana had moved to another city, maybe remarried and settled down. She had been young after her husband died, still had a lot of life to live. So that she chose to close herself off here, alone and away from everything and everyone was something that surprised me. Hurt too, made my chest ache with the weight of what I’d done, how profoundly it had impacted her.

That was so fucking stupid. I’d taken her spouse. What had I expected? That she’d just bounce back, no fucking problem? It would have been easier, for me and for her. But nothing in my life had ever been easy, and it seemed nothing in Dana’s had either, something I was making worse with each passing moment.

“Curious. About me?” she asked. Her voice pulled me out of my spiraling thoughts, and I glanced at her. She looked at me through lowered lids, but I could see how focused she was on me. I could also see how deeply she wanted me to deny my curiosity.

I didn’t.

“Yes,” I said.

The word condemned me. I knew I should put a stop to this, knew that allowing any connection between us was another crime. But I didn’t, was powerless to keep the distance that Dana deserved.

After I spoke, she laughed. “Can’t say I’ve ever inspired curiosity in anyone, so that’s a first. But, to answer your original question, I guess I see potential in the place.” There was more to it than that, but I didn’t pursue the matter. Instead I watched as she rubbed her hand along one edge of the weathered siding, looked at it almost wistfully.

“Everybody wrote this place off. Didn’t see any value in it anymore.”

“But you do?” I asked.

“Yes. Or maybe I’m just stubborn and bored. When I came here, I saw what this place could be. And I want to make it that,” she said.

“You want to bring it back to life?” I asked. The question wasn’t necessary. I’d figured out as much from watching her, could see how dedicated she was to the place. From what I’d seen, I had no doubt she would bring it back to life, knew she was too stubborn to stop until she did.

“Something like that,” she said.