Sixteen

They both jumped at the sound of Lilly's voice. Matt however, held tight to the tenuous hold that connected him to Kitty. Pulsing through his consciousness was a sense of elation, that not even Lilly's piercing voice could quell. For the first time in his memory, he felt the red haired woman was really looking at him. She was seeing past his confusion, to the heart of him, trying so desperately to find its way back, and even though he had few words to express his thoughts, she was truly listening to him.

GS GS GS GS

Lilly had been a thorn in her side from the get go that day. Kitty reckoned it would take very little additional provocation, to push her to the point of sending the `ten-day girl' packing. Still, this new found bond with Matt was too precious to risk losing because of a fit of anger. So she fought to keep her annoyance at bay, "Go ahead and eat without us." Kitty told her.

Lilly, standing in the bedroom doorway, with her hands on her hips replied in a whine, "I gots the table all ready, I worked hard on that there soup all afternoon."

Kitty squeezed Matt's hand, and rose from the side of his bed where she had been sitting. She took a deep breath to calm herself, but her words still came out in a syncopated rhythm, "It won't go to waste Lilly, what you don't eat will keep until tomorrow, soup's always better the second day."

Lilly's answer was a glare and narrowed eyes, but Kitty ignored the negative energy the other woman was emitting, and continued, "I'm sure you can understand. Matt has spent his entire day sleeping in this little room. He could do with some fresh air and a little exercise. So you go on now, enjoy your soup, and don't worry about fussing over us."

"Well … he gots to eat too!"

"I'll see that he eats." Kitty replied. She turned her back to Lilly and focused on Matt, offering her hands to help him from the bed. He reached out and took them.

Lilly stamped her feet indignantly, and then rushed forward and attempted to push Kitty out of the way, "You ain't doin' it right "

That was all Kitty was going to take, at least for the present. There was a thinly controlled edge to her voice, "Lilly, get out of this room, we don't need you here."

Lilly backed off, but she didn't back down, "I knows how to take care of them, like Abe."

"I mean it Lilly, leave us be. NOW."

Lilly blew an indignant "Humpf" from her mouth and then stomped from the room muttering under her breath, "You ain't doin' it right and he gots to have food in his belly, I knows how to take care of him, I dun took care of him at St. Vinnie's, I dun brung him back from death's door step."

Kitty turned back to Matt, fearing the delicate tie had been severed, but she need not have worried, for the look in his eyes, told her the bond remained secure. The sunlight she had damned that morning was still flowing through the cracks in the blinds, but now it seemed to be offering an invitation. An idea came to her and she voiced a suggestion, not expecting a response, "There are still a few hours of daylight left, how would you like to go on a picnic? We can fish, I bought fishing poles, when I went shopping yesterday."

The word brought a memory, just a brief flicker of an image but the thought of it made him smile, "F-ish me f-ish"

To Kitty's ears, his simple response was as powerful as an orator's discourse. Her eyes searched his just to reassure herself that Matt Dillon, really was looking back at her. Still, she understood the need to move slowly and not force on him, more than he was ready to it receive. Keep it simple she silently ordered herself, before offering a gentle grammatical correction, "I" she said and gave her chest a tap, "like to fish."

He bobbed his head, "Me f-ish."

With a smile and a nod, she wrapped an arm around his elbow, "I tell you what, you take care of business, and I'll pack us a picnic basket." She led him to the washroom and left him there to attend to his personal needs, while he did she returned to the kitchen, where Lilly was sitting at the table. Her soup was left untouched, and her face was scrunched together in an angry glower. Kitty, in no frame of mind to continue the argument, ignored her. She concentrated her efforts in putting together a picnic supper. She placed a clean dishtowel in the basket they used for gathering garden vegetables and then began filling it with slices of bread, farmers cheese, apples and hard-boiled eggs. Remembering how enjoyable the iced tea was at Summerhaven, she took down a stoneware pitcher from the cupboard and poured in the left over tea from Lilly's afternoon teapot, she added some chipped ice from the icebox, and dispensed a liberal amount of Gold Barrel Whiskey to the mix.

It was about this time, Matt walked into the kitchen, "Fish." He said. "Picnic." She said. And they both smiled at each other, Kitty with memories, Matt with anticipation.

He had on a clean shirt, although the buttons and button holes were misaligned, his wild hair had been slicked in place with water and he appeared very proud of his efforts. She checked him out from top to bottom, "Looking mighty fine Cowboy, but are you going to wear anything on your feet?" She asked.

He wiggled his toes, "Noo."

She said, "Alright, suit yourself. You, can carry the fishing gear," and handed him the poles and tackle box, while she picked up the basket and pitcher of tea. Remembering the `ten-day girl' Kitty turned around to say `good bye', but Lilly was no longer in the room.

The late afternoon was delightful, the sun had cooled its intensity, and the breeze was light enough to do little more than lift the bangs from her forehead before gently placing them down again. They made their way along the well-worn path and settled themselves under the birch trees on the grassy bank.

He was sitting with his legs straight out, she with legs curled to the side. His bare feet were huge and she laughed when she looked at him."Why won't you wear shoes?" she asked, shaking her head and smiling. She didn't look for an answer. She was used to carrying on one-sided conversations with him, for Matt Dillon, even in the best of times, had always been a man of few words.

She was surprised and pleased, when she saw he was working on a reply. Finally, he held up his hands. He curled the fingers of his left hand and then placed his right hand tight over them. "Shoes." He said and his lips turned down in a frown. He removed his right hand and spread the fingers of his left. "No shoes." He said and he smiled.

"I see shoes pinch your feet."

Matt nodded and looked pointedly at her feet, "No shoes." He shook his head back and forth, "Kit-tee, no shoes."

She was laughing, "Oh no you don't! You're not going to corrupt my love of shoes, why back home, I have a whole shelf filled with the latest styles " She stopped speaking in mid-sentence, remembering there was to be no talk of back home.

He wiggled his toes again and then looked at her with a smile that was totally disarming. He could have asked for the moon with that smile, and she would have built a ladder to fetch it for him, "Oh, what the hell." She said, pulling her foot within reach, she began unlacing her fancy footwear.

They ate the bread and some of the cheese, and each drank a glass of the spiked tea. before Kitty decided it was time to fish. She opened the tackle box she'd purchased at the Emporium; most of what was inside was more sophisticated gear than Kitty was used to. Back in Dodge, night crawlers and earthworms were considered top of the line bait, and maybe if you were lucky, a jug cork to serve as a bobber. She looked at Matt and gave a purely feminine, helpless shrug of her shoulders. Was it manly instinct or repressed memory suddenly coming to the surface? It is hard to say, but Matt Dillon seemed to know just what to do. He picked up the chunk of farmers cheese from the basket, and took a bite, and spit it out into his hand, and then worked it onto the fish hook. He handed the baited pole to Kitty, and practiced the same procedure with his own.

Soon their lines were in the water and the store-bought bobbers were bouncing with the waves. "Fish." He said. "I" He tapped his chest twice, "like fish."

"I guess you do." She responded with a grin.

It did not matter that the fish weren't biting, because they were together. He was there with her, not the shell she'd feared he might always be. They sat quiet for a spell. And it was as they were sitting there, side-by-side, toes wiggling together in the sunset, that he said, with a tap to his chest, "I like Kitty."

She swallowed hard, because the words were almost too good to believe. She held her emotions in check, and replied by tapping her chest and saying, "I like Matt."

His eyes locked on the motion of her hand and remained fixed on her bosom as he said again, this time with a teasing smile on his lips, "I like Kitty."

"Hey, I'm up here." She laughed, and with thumb and forefinger lifted his chin, so that his eyes were looking into her eyes and not at her chest. He reached out and did the same, and his touch was as a sweet caress to her face. For a heartbeat, they were silhouetted against the fireball of the setting sun.

At the cottage, standing on the back porch, Lilly noticed the exchange, she watched briefly and then returned to the kitchen.