He nodded. ‘I can’t think of a better thing to do with the cash. Well, I tried to give it to Dad but he refused to take any of it. It’s hard enough to get him to take money for groceries. And so I suggested the charity.’
‘That’s really kind, Nate.’
He shrugged. ‘It feels like a nice way to remember Mum.’
‘It’ll be your last week next week,’ she said.
They were looking at one another until he snapped himself out of it to get started. And while he began to work, he asked, ‘How did the phone call go?’ He wanted to know and yet he didn’t. But it was polite to ask. And they were friends.
‘They still want me.’
Who wouldn’t? ‘That’s great,’ he lied. He ran a pencil along the edge of the ruler to mark out the wood he was measuring.
‘I set up a time for an interview over Zoom. And the money they’re offering is actually better than I thought.’
‘Great.’ He’d said that already. He’d have to vary it up a bit unless he wanted to sound like a total idiot.
‘So why didn’t you get around to making the swing?’ she asked after a while.
‘Mum deteriorated. It was a really tough time.’ And it wasn’t the only thing he’d been trying to make and had never finished.
Branston stole the limelight again by nudging in front of Morgan’s legs as she stood next to Nate at the workbench.
‘Sorry, Morgan. You’d think he’d got enough fuss at the pub earlier, wouldn’t you?’
‘He’s obviously very sociable.’ She crouched down to give Branston her full attention.
Was it possible to be jealous of a dog? Yeah, it was. Although he had to warn Branston to calm down again because the dog was already checking her out with his nose, putting it in places she might not be comfortable with.
Nate ran the pieces of wood he needed to cut through the saw. He concentrated the best he could with a beautiful woman in the corner of his eye. He cut the pieces to size – two longer lengths, two shorter, to make the rectangle shape he thought best for a box to store logs which would come in all sizes, as well as another piece for the base of the box – and found the right nails and glue from one of the drawers beneath the workbench.
‘I love his name,’ Morgan declared. ‘Branston.’ She said the dog’s name as if to be sure of what it sounded like on her tongue. ‘Like the pickle.’
‘Exactly.’ His stomach grumbled a little. ‘And now you’ve made me hungry. I could go a few rounds of cheese on toast with Branston pickle.’
‘That’s a thing?’
‘You mean you’ve never tried it?’ When she shook her head, he suggested, ‘Let me make us some – call it a thank you for the safe return of my wallet.’
‘How do you know I haven’t cleared all the cash out?’
‘You wouldn’t do that.’
‘Well, I’ll take you up on the offer if it means I can spend more time with Branston here.’
‘Cup of tea too?’ he offered. ‘We’ll go in the house if you like. Or I could bring it out here.’ And that way, he wouldn’t have to explain her presence to his dad or disturb him. Trevor was intent on watchingMidsomer Murderstonight and deemed himself ready for a “binge watch”,although knowing Dad, that meant two episodes before he headed upstairs for an early night. The older generation didn’t really have the stamina for a binge watch, not the way people his age did. It was hardly good for you, just that nowadays your favourite shows were at your fingertips and who wanted to wait before they found out the ending to something that had well and truly hooked them in?
‘I’m happy to eat out here.’ Morgan eyed the window at the side of the garage, the golden glow cast by the sun which had started its descent. ‘It’s a beautiful evening.’
‘It really is.’ He came to her side but then realised he had to actually go to the kitchen to get the job done. ‘I’ll be back in a bit.’
He thought he’d have to tell Branston to wait here but it seemed Branston wouldn’t have heard him anyway because at Morgan’s feet, he’d already rolled over for a tummy tickle.
Nate checked in on his dad and asked him whether he needed a snack made, but he didn’t. He settled on a cup of tea and Nate said he’d be out in the workshop if he was needed, although Trevor barely looked up from his programme.
He took out the bread and toasted each slice before slathering the other in pickle and covering it with cheese. Once it was melted and bubbling, he sliced it and took the gooey treats out to the workshop on a big tray along with the mugs of tea.
‘You’ve been fed already,’ Nate told the dog who, with a bit of convincing, lay in his basket and gave Morgan a chance to eat in peace.
