"I don't know if there's a person alive who could change him," Adelaide says, laughing some, rueful because James Hawkins is a force unto himself, consistent as tides if you understand the root of him. Even bringing Lita to the trailer that night wasn't actually off pattern despite being a surprise - he wanted to do it, so he did it, and that's him.
Maybe that's why it irritates her so much, though, this relationship. It's the unknown, it's never been done, and it touches on every one of her fears of separation. They say that love isn't finite, that hearts grow to encompass the people within them, but hard-headed practical Adelaide would argue that the hours in a man's damn day don't have those magical qualities. It's selfish, and she doesn't care that it is.
She sighs and blows red strands of hair from her forehead, shrugging. "She'll cave soon enough, and then maybe he can level off," she reasons.
But then the frown is back, and Adelaide is shaking her head. She doesn't see much magic in the Dog Park, and the idea of paradise in a dustbowl almost makes her laugh. Maybe it's a paradise for wild restless things looking for something to hold onto, but Adelaide was never looking for more, and all the Dog Park provided was motivation for a lot of people with a lot of big damn weapons to come take away what's hers. She knows she's made that point often enough since she arrived, though, and so she skips over it this time.
Instead she just shakes her head. "There's no way she'd rather be here," Adelaide says. "I didn't think of it beyond wondering if she was hung up on Bishop, but when you put it that way... Well, that's something to consider, ain't it?"