“I was walking and sulking because, hey!” I slap his shoulder. “Did you know Robin got a cottage here?”
“You should truly talk to the doctor about that ADHD, it’s giving me whiplash.” He doesn’t budge when I slap him, and instead crosses his arms over his signature flannel and glares at me. His mohawk-like hair is beanie free and mildly distracting. My fingers itch to feel his silky strands.
I bet he’d share his conditioner. He’s the type of guy who would.
“Yes, well, we can’t all be perfect and focus on one subject at a time. Besides, what fun would that be?” I pretend to gag. “Really though, did you know?”
“Yes, now tell me why you were sulking.”
Traitor. I give him my very best stink eye, but he’s like that statue I claimed his fence to be. My head is a weird place to be stranded right now. “Right, well, I was sulking because he and Paris practically kicked me out of his new apartment. And I was thinking, and that’s not good for me, ya know?”
“I’m learning this.”
“See? You catch on quick.” I beam at him, but he still doesn’t give me a single response I’m looking for, so I continue on. “Well, I saw the fence, and I didn’t want to sulk anymore.”
“You didn’t give me the reason you were sulking.”
“Totally did.”
“Birdie,” he growls.
“I was sulking because my brother is moving here and I felt weird. Like, why is he moving here ? How is that so easy for him to just do? It’s just not right. Some people shouldn’t be mentally able to just move from place to place like a gypsy.”
“Birdie.”
“He’s a gypsy. It’s official. We are no longer Irish but gypsies.” I tap my lips in thought. “Now, I was sulking because… Well, I already told you that, and I needed a distraction, and in my head, I thought?—”
“You shouldn’t do that,” he cuts in.
“Well, too late now. I was thinking, and I thought to myself that fence looks like a fun rock wall to climb.”
“We have a rock wall at the drive-in,” he reminds me.
“Well, I couldn’t very well just head over there. I’m officially over the hill.”
“At thirty?”
“Crazy, isn’t it? My social security practically already applied itself to AARP for me.”
“Odd how they do that,” he chimes in.
“Exactly. How do they know?”
“You just said that, social security.”
I wave my hand at his comment. “Anyway…” I sigh, feeling a little breathless and a lot of breeze in my torn pants. “It’s really the fault of the fence.”
“How is this my fence’s fault?”
“It dared me to climb it.”
“You are deflecting.”
“Of course I am. You really do catch on quickly.”
“Get to the point, Wren.”
I rear back as though he slapped me by calling me my name, and I admit, I pout at that a little. How dare he call me Wren? “I was feeling nosy, okay?” I throw my hands up. “And I wanted to know what this fence was hiding. Which I was right. I always saw the fence but never thought to see what was on the other side. I never would have imagined a car garden.” I mutter the last bit to myself.
