He chuckled, still crouched over the toolbox. “You’ve got a unique way of communicating, Riley Walls. I can’t say I’ve met anyone quite like you.”
I couldn’t tell whether that was a compliment or an insult. I decided to take it as the former.
“Thanks!” I beamed at him with an overly enthusiastic smile. “And I haven’t met anyone else who thinks the rest of the world is required to be interrupted by their own personal schedule, so I could say the same. Here I was thinking we'd never find something in common.”
Dax trimmed a piece of clear plastic line and sighed. “I’m a classic over-committer. Don’t seem to be able to help myself. I’m sure a therapist somewhere could read into it a lot more than I want to,” he replied honestly.“Dax Holmes has an unhealthy need to help people.”
My shoulders dropped. I couldn’t fault him for that. “There are worse things you could have an unhealthy need for,” I replied, the venom removed from my tone. The arrogance in his voice had evolved into friendly banter, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it.
“I guess so." He clicked the line into the strimmer, flicking it with his finger, his eyes glinting. “What about you? What’s your unhealthy need?”
Was he flirting with me?
I sighed.
“Breeze’s chocolate caramel slice.”
He grinned. “Ah yes, I think it’s banned in three countries on account of its addictive qualities.”
For real. That stuff was going to ruin my dental health.
“Why are you being nice all of a sudden?” I asked before I could stop myself.
“What?”
“No flaming neck or insults today.”
His cheeks coloured slightly through his golden tan, and he cleared his throat. “I just understand you better now, that’s all.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I snapped.
“I’m ready!” Breeze announced, arms stretched out like wings as she reappeared in a white sundress. She’d closed the café for the weekend so we could all tackle the garden. I’d managed to push my next visit to Miss Lissy to Sunday afternoon.
“You’re wearing white,” Dax said, his back straightening from where he’d been bent over the mower.
“Ialwayswear white. And it’s not after Labour Day,” she replied, giving him a sisterly punch. “I don’t care if it gets dirty. I never get to wear dresses. They don’t go well with café activities.”
“What activities? Pole-dancing with the Ball Boys?” I chuckled.
“You know what I mean,” she sighed. “Now where should we start?”
Breeze and I started wrangling the Japanese knotweed that looked like it was trying to swallow the wooden pergola by the door. It came down easily enough, but I couldn’t believe how much of the stuff was on there, and Dax got busy with the strimmer.
“Why does he get to use the fancy tools and we’ve got to do all this manual labour?” I groaned as we were halfway through uncovering the structure.
“They’re both manual labour, and because he knows how to use the fancy tools, that’s why,” Breeze grunted as another thin stem pulled free. She jolted backward from where she straddled a wooden beam and only just regained her balance.Geez.We were an accident waiting to happen.
By Sunday, black rubbish sacks overflowing with vines and weeds sat in piles outside the back door. Technically, there was a green waste protocol, but neither of us had the budget. They were tagged for the skip.
Sunlight poured through the side window as I sat at the butcher’s block eating honey toast in grey track pants and a hoodie.
“There’s no award for slowest eater, you know,” Breeze said, rinsing Taco’s plate. She was wearing another white cotton sundress. Did she own any colours?
“I know.” I pushed back from the table reluctantly. It was time for another visit with Pissy Lissy.
The same knot twisted in my stomach. The one that showed up when I was trapped in something I couldn’t get out of. Like paying taxes or visiting family at Christmas. It had taken me until my thirties to realise that adult life was just a never-ending swing between comfort and heart-clenching apprehension.
CHAPTER TEN
