“ suppose we’re both full of surprises. ” esme…
‘Hm,’ a plume of smoke settles in the air between the two of them, ‘not so much.’
She dismisses him as easily as she’s dismissed every other man that’s tried to talk to her in this house; Faye’s husband, that hermit man who lives nearby, and now Perry. She even dismissed the dog, who had nudged his nose against her knee like he expected something from her. The children care little enough for her that she doesn’t have to brush them off, but Perry takes the role they had neglected to fill: the fly buzzing around her face, constantly coming back for more, even after you’ve rolled up the latest edition of vogue magazine and started waving around all 600 pages.
Esme cannot tell the difference between persistence and stupidity. Perhaps she’d argue there’s no difference at all.
‘Have you seen the children? I assume she’d appreciate you watching them for a while.’