Requiem for a Soldier (Requiem #1)

Chapter 36: Banter

September 17

Ryan

"Damn it."

I watch the screw fall and disappear somewhere on the ground. At this rate, I'll have to call Joe again and order more. I frown at that thought. I'd rather crawl around in the dirt searching for a screw than talk to that jerk.

I descend the ladder carefully and sigh as I crouch, scanning the ground for the little piece of metal. I'm just one screw short of maybe being able to convince Ana to come outside again at dusk. After that incident with the bear three weeks ago, she strictly refuses to come outside after the sun has gone down. Which, by now, is just after 8 pm. The days will only continue to get shorter. 

A dim metallic wink catches my eye and I spot the screw. Finally. I shove it in my back pocket and risk life and limb once again to ascend the ladder. These floodlights better work. I hold the light, the bracket, and the screw in place with my right hand and fit the drill bit into the screw head with my left. Very, very carefully I pull back on the drill's trigger, allowing the screw to bite into the wood without taking a bite out of my hand.

With that last screw in place, I give the security light a tug. It holds firm. For what I hope will be the last time, I climb back down the ladder, almost losing my footing on the last rung. Even though I know she's inside, I instinctively look around quickly to make sure Ana didn't see my blunder. 

I know it's silly, this fear I have of tripping, stumbling, dropping something, or failing at any simple task due to my injuries in front of her. I've watched the woman walk straight into a table while talking, trip over her own shoes multiple times, and even once drop a glass, shattering it. If anything, by this point I should be comfortable being a klutz around her. My injuries are already conspicuous enough on their own. I don't like additional reminders of my disability. And I especially don't like her being reminded of it.

I step back to appraise my work. I've spent the afternoon mounting these motion-activated floodlights around the cabin and shed. The parts just came in this morning. The sudden blinding light should serve as a deterrent to any curious bears in the future.

Satisfied that I've managed to complete this task with relative success, I head back inside to show Ana the new countermeasure. What I find stops me in my tracks.

Ana is washing the dishes, the smell of something baking wafting from the oven. Apparently, she didn't expect me to come back inside so soon. Her treasured headphones are on and must be blasting her favorite tunes, because she doesn't hear me come in or stop what she's doing. Which is dancing. Hilariously. While doing dishes. 

As evidenced by her style of dance, or rather, lack thereof, it's clear she hasn't spent much time in clubs. I suspect the only other witnesses to this particular spectacle have either been murdered, sworn to secrecy, or simply died laughing. It's all I can do to keep my reaction contained to a smile. If it were anyone else, this would be terribly cringe-worthy. But because it's her, this might just be the most adorable thing I've ever seen.

After she dries a bowl, she busts out a move I can only guess is supposed to imitate a moonwalk as she travels over to the cabinet. She puts the bowl away with a flourish, then executes a dramatic spin. And sees me. And stops.

Her mouth falls open and she pulls the headphones down to her neck. "Oh my gosh Ryan - you scared the crap out of me! Ha-" she pauses. "How long have you been standing there?"

I smile wider in spite of myself. 

She crosses her arms and does her best to glare at me, but she can't suppress her own amusement, letting it out as a wry grin.