A/N Listening to Leonard Cohen's "The essentials disk 1" and "Paul Simon" radio on Pandora, while I write this chapter.
The new found interest from Sansa sent Sandor's quiet, boring existence into a tailspin. In the past when he had sorrows from women, he would drown them in drink. Now he did not drink and he did not let anyone, especially beautiful women, close enough to cause him sorrow. Sandor had taken to being "busy" and elsewhere during morning mass, as to avoid Sansa. He missed her, but he was taking his safest course, until he could figure out what to do next. He was hoping Fr. Sam would either not notice (not likely) or be kind enough to refrain from saying anything (so far so good).
Sandor kept busy, preparing the church itself, rectory and grounds for the eventual winter. It was still early autumn, but Sandor wanted to get the outside repairs done before hurricane season hit and it got too wet to do too much and then it would be too cold. While he painted, he had plenty of time to the solitude of his thoughts.
Sandor had been with surprisingly few women, favoring drunken one night stands instead of commitments that could end in his disappointment and heartbreak. He was acutely aware of his disfigurement and built up walls of defense before any war had even been waged. Sandor had been open with Fr. Sam about his violence and anger in the past. Sandor did not have to self medicated with alcohol to soothe his soul anymore. He had a sense of self worth, in his actions; having a place to call his own and a place within the church, not as a parishioner, but as the problem solver fixing things that were broken and making them nice and shiny. Fr. Sam saw the parallel, as he was the problem solver for the soul, mending things that were broken and making them nice and shiny. Fr. Sam had not told anyone his recent thoughts, that perhaps Sansa and Sandor were the instruments needed to make the other whole. However, there was more to each story and Fr. Sam knew to be patient and bide his time.
Sandor was painting and eavesdropping, Sansa was telling Fr. Sam how her fiancé was leaving on a business trip, which might keep him away for about a month. Sandor was trying to gauge Sansa's opinion on this. She was telling Sam this information casually, as if she wasn't saddened by his leaving; it was a matter of fact statement. Fr. Sam could not resist, he warmly welcomed Sansa to join him and Sandor for dinner whenever she would like. Sansa grinned at him and happily agreed. Sandor wondered if Sansa had been fishing for that very invitation. Curious, he thought to himself. He also was surprised when he heard Sansa explain to Fr. Sam that she had free time and would be happy to do any office work that the parish might need. Sam grinned and told her she would be sorry for volunteering.
The following Monday after mass and coffee, there was Sansa bright eyed and bushytailed ready for her first assignment. Fr. Sam had a backlog of old handwritten or typed documents that needed to be retyped and saved on a computer file, so that is what Sansa was doing.
Sandor was taking a break, when he saw Sansa approach him outside. She was smiling and stretching, relieving the kinks in her back from desk work. This was the first time they had been alone since the fainting incident so many weeks past.
"Beautiful weather today." Sansa stated to Sandor, benign conversation.
"Aye" he agreed, "Looks like we're going to have some storms next week, though"
Sansa eyed him quizzically
"Hurricane season," Sandor explained "We get heavy rain and wind. Sometimes the power goes out and the basements get wet, but it's not a big deal. That is why I am doing the roofing and cutting down dead tree branches, if we get a big storm, there is less to clean up afterwards."
"Have you been avoiding me?" Sansa asked bluntly
Sandor blushed and nodded sadly.
Sansa looked sad and hurt and that surprised him. He didn't know what possessed him, but the words spilled out "I'm not used to beautiful women wanting to touch my face or kiss me. You're engaged. I didn't know what to do. So I stayed away trying to figure it out."
Sansa looked at him, wide eyed "I'm so sorry for causing you so much angst. I just thought maybe we could be friends?"
Sandor looked into her eyes, trying to read her soul "Did you mean to be friends before or after you kissed my cheek?" He looked down, not meeting her eyes; he mumbled "I don't think women like you really want to be friends with a man like me. But thank you for your honesty."
Sandor stalked away, cursing to himself. What he said was true to his heart, but not what he really wanted. But what was the point of befriending a woman who was going to marry someone else?
