The Stacks

Chapter 42: Inside the Box

"You're welcome." 

"Now," he said, "it's my turn to address a few things."

"Sure," I nodded. "But will you first make me some toast? My stomach is still a little hungry, believe it or not."

He looked like he wanted to tease me but then thought better of it. Without a word, he went to  make some toast with butter and brought it back to me.

"You know," I said, still feeling silly for looking the darn thing up on the web, "I even read that a dead person's spirit can make people physically ill, although Cathryn seemed too nice to make me suffer like this." Maybe that was too much. From the scowl on his face, I thought maybe I offended him. Maybe it was still too soon to be joking like that. But then he burst out laughing.

"You're right, she was too nice to do something like that," he said, nodding aggressively. "But I wouldn't put it past her parents when they're dead and gone."

"Oh my gosh," I chuckled. "You're so bad. Okay now, what did you want to talk to me about?"

"I think we need to set some ground rules for when we fight," he suggested.

"Sounds fair."

"First, the few times we have fought, you have been the one to say that we won't talk until you're ready, and that doesn't seem fair to me."

"I guess," I said, "but you were the one who messed up both times."

"Oh, I see," he said in a slightly agitated voice. "Well, to be honest, you kind of screwed up this last time, too."

"How?" I demanded.

"Sweetie, I told you I was working on something a few weeks ago. When you asked what it was, I told you it was 'like a job.' I did not specifically say I had a normal 40-hour-per-week job, employed by such and such a company. I told you I'd fill you in on the details at a later time. Remember?"

"Yes."

"The other day, you screamed at me about not going to work and lying about having a job, but I assure you, I didn't lie. I am working on a project that could turn into something big. I just didn't work on it for a few days after you told me about your dreams because I had to come to terms with everything you said."

I remembered the conversation clearly and yelling at him, of course. "I'm sorry," I murmured. "I guess I didn't listen well enough. Forgive me?"

"I forgive you," he said, smiling his one-of-a-kind dimpled grin. "I promise I will show you very soon what I've been working on okay?" He leaned in to kiss my lips but I pulled away. "I don't want to get you sick," I frowned. 

"I'll take my chances," he said, and planted a kiss on my mouth before I could stop him. "Going back to the ground rules for fighting, I don't think it's fair for you to call all the shots, even if I messed up. If we need to talk, then we need to talk about when we should talk, don't you think?" 

"I think so," I giggled, crinkling my face while I repeated what he'd just said in my head and then again out loud until it made sense. "So I shouldn't just walk away and say, 'We'll talk when I'm ready' because that doesn't give you any say in it at all." 

"Exactly," he said, smiling warmly. Then, "I'm sorry I didn't say anything about your dreams when you first told me. They all made perfect sense, actually. Even the one when Cathryn told me it was time to go."

I widened my eyes, eager to hear his explanation for that one.

"I had been struggling with the idea of selling the house. I told you I felt like it only held memories of grief, but I still worried that it might be the wrong decision. If for some stupid reason Cathryn was still there, would she be upset with me for selling it and walking away? Your dream told me what I needed to hear, that it was time to go. Obviously, I made the decision before I knew about your dream, but it was good to know she approved all the same."