Brynn glances down the street and back to her place. “Back into my driveway at a bit of an angle. Not a super obvious one though. We’ll carry the boxes into the backyard through the side gate.”
“Not a bad idea.”
Brynn beams. “I’ll meet you in a second. I need to find the key that unlocks the gate.” Brynn hurries inside.
I take the keys from my pocket and start for the front of the truck.
Working together, Brynn and I get the boxes to her backyard. The basic tools we need and box cutter are in my small toolbox. I carry that back with me and we get to work. We are practiced at working together, and assembling is no different. Brynn has the pieces sorted into what I will need at every step. While I work, she puts away groceries and makes a late lunch.
“Here ya go,” she announces, stepping outside with two plates in her hands. “A Brynn sandwich.”
I set down what I’m working on and meet her at her outdoor table. “What makes this sandwich worthy of a name like that?”
“Just try it.”
I take a bite andcrunch. “Chips.” I grin around my bite. Brynn leans over and pecks my lips with a mouth as full as mine. She pulls away, munching happily.
My heart wants to dance and also fucking shatter. How did I get so lucky and unlucky at the very same time?
* * *
“Hi,”Brynn chirps when Walt opens the door.
He looks beyond her, glaring at me.What is it Brynn likes about this guy? He looks like a lion that has his balls caught in a vise.
“Sir.” I reach around Brynn and extend a hand. My mother would smack me with a ruler if she learned I was anything less than courteous, especially to an old man. Even if it is Walt.
Walt’s gaze flickers down to my outstretched hand and back up to my face. I take back my hand and clear my throat.
“Knock it off, Walt.” Brynn steps inside and motions for me to come too. I follow cautiously. I’m stepping into the angry lion’s den. The TV stand is lucky it’s hidden around the other side of the garage, out of Walt’s sight.
Brynn turns abruptly, so the three of us form a triangle. She looks at Walt and points to me. “Walt, this is Connor. You may no longer refer to him asthe boy.” She turns to me. “Connor, this is Walt.”
“Hello, sir.” I try again with an outstretched hand. This time he takes it and grunts a hello.
I’ll take it. Beggars, choosers, yada yada yada.
“We brought you something,” Brynn sing-songs.
Walt’s bushy eyebrows draw together. “I saw you two carrying something.”
Brynn noisily blows out a breath. “It’s impossible to surprise you. Do you know how annoying that is?” She pivots and marches outside. “Come on,” she yells to both of us.
We follow and find Brynn trying to lift the damn thing on her own.
“Stop, stop,” I tell her, putting my hand on her shoulder.
“Then help me,” she grunts, still holding up her end.
I rush to the other side and lift. Walt trails behind as we carry the piece of furniture inside.
Brynn sets it down next to a threadbare brown woven recliner. She points at Walt. “You’re cooking tonight.”
“Grilled cheese?”
Brynn crosses her arms and looks at him. “Add bacon and tomato?”
What’s with this girl and adding to a sandwich’s status quo?
