Ihesitated at the threshold, the familiar confines of my home beckoning.InvitingKevinin felt like a monumental step.Noone other than my family and a few close friends had ever visited my house.Ittruly was my sanctuary.Theclatter ofBart’spaws on the hardwood as he bounded toward the door was a reminder of life’s simpler joys.Aslong as he was here waiting for me to get home, acting likeIwas some sort of god,Ididn’t need anyone else.
Witha heavy sigh,Iturned the knob and usheredKevininside. “Justmake sure he doesn’t run past you on your way in.”
Iwatched asBartcircled, sniffed, and finally settled, his clumsy body still buzzing with the excitement of his new best friend crouching to scratch his belly.
“So, about the fence,” he began, his tone suggesting this was more than just a casual offer of help.Hewas now sitting on the floor withBartdraped over his lap. “Idon’t think it will take much to fix, just some planks and reinforcement.Ifyou want, we could do that and then trim the tree so nothing else comes down.”
Kevin’sproposal hung between us, his casual demeanor juxtaposing my hesitancy.Bart, blissfully unaware of the undercurrents of human tension, lay sprawled acrossKevin’slap, a living bridge connecting us in the most unexpected way.
“Iappreciate the offer,”Ibegan, my voice betraying a hint of the vulnerabilityIfelt. “Butare you sure you want to give up your weekend for my inability to contain my mutt?”
Kevin’slaughter was soft and genuine. “I’venever shied away from a bit of hard work, andIdon’t have any projectsIneed to work on in my yard right now.”Hiseyes met mine, holding a spark of mischief. “You’dactually be doing me a favor.IfIdon’t help you,I’mjust going to sit and scroll mindlessly on my phone, then get annoyed with myself for not doing anything.Besides, it’s not every dayIget to play hero to a damsel in distress—or shouldIsay, a lawyer in fence distress?”
Thehorrible attempt at a joke elicited a reluctant smile from me despite the absurdity of being cast in such a role.Iwatched him interact withBart, his touch gentle and sure.Therewas a grace in his movements, a natural ease that spoke of a man comfortable in his own skin and with the world around him.
“Okay, let’s do it,”Isaid, finally allowing myself to commit to the plan. “ButIhave conditions.”
“Oh?”Kevinlooked up, an eyebrow arched in playful challenge.
“I’llsupply the materials, and we do it my way,”Istipulated, trying to regain some semblance of control.
“Yourway?”Kevinrepeated, his tone teasing. “Doesthat include the part where you pretend to know which end of the hammer to use?”
Icouldn’t help but chuckle, the tension easing from my shoulders. “Veryfunny.I’llhave you knowI’mnot completely inept.Idid take shop class in high school, after all.”
“Ah, high school shop class,”Kevinmused, a nostalgic glint in his eye. “Thefoundation of allDIYexpertise.”
Weshared a moment of laughter before the conversation shifted back to the task at hand.Kevinoutlined a plan, sketching a rough diagram on a scrap of paper he’d fished from his pocket.Itwas crazy how he mentally calculated what needed to be done to fix the fence.Except…
“What’sthat?”Iasked, pointing to an open area larger than the current one caused by falling branches.
“Oh, it’s a gate,”Kevinexplained. “Ithought it might be nice in case you giveBartthe okay to expand his horizons.Or, you know, if you needed me to keep an eye on him.Itwas just an idea.”
“Inyour yard?Won’the tear up your garden?”Thelast thingIneeded was a pissed-offKevinwhenBarttried playing archaeologist in his raised beds.
“Nah, he comes over to sniff around, but he’s never destroyed anything.”AsKevinrose from the floor,Bartgave a lazy stretch and trotted over to his water bowl, the clinking of his collar tags punctuating the end of our discussion. “Ishouldn’t assume you’d want a gate.Iknow you like your privacy.”
“Promiseyou won’t see my yard as a blank canvas for your gardening?”Banterdidn’t come naturally to me, butIenjoyed it with him.Ididn’t feel likeIwas wasting my time the wayIdid with other people.
“Ipromise.”Herubbed his chin and cocked his head slightly. “Wait.Wouldthat be something you’d secretly like?BecauseIcould totally plan something simple that would give you fresh veggies in the summer.Maybea raspberry bush along the fence?”
“Let’snot get ahead of ourselves.”IfollowedKevinto the front door. “Besides,I’mpretty sure that gate swings both ways.Maybeyou should worry about me sneaking into your garden to steal fresh tomatoes.”
“It’sa riskI’mwilling to take.”Kevinstepped onto the front porch and turned to me. “Brightand early tomorrow?Wecan grab breakfast on our way to the hardware store.”
“Soundslike a plan,”Ireplied, pausing at the threshold. “And,Kevin?Thankyou.”
Hissmile was a silent acknowledgment, warm and reassuring.See,Iwas totally capable of being friendly.
* * *
TheTowneTap,with its worn wooden floorboards and the warm glow of vintage lanterns, was a staple ofHarmonyGrove’sso-called nightlife.Steppinginside from the crisp fall evening, the familiar scents of hops and fried foods welcomed me.
Afterchatting withKevinthis morning,I’dgone to the office for a few hours.Icould have worked from home, butBartwould have whined about wanting outside.Incessantly.Andlike a spoiled child, he wouldn’t have quit until he’d beaten me down.Forsome reason, he was usually calmer at the office, content to sit in the window watching people pass.
HarmonyGrove’sHarvestFestivalwas fast-approaching, and a mountain of work to get through wouldn’t save me from helping my parents at the food stand.Itwas better to put a few hours onSaturdayto get ahead than to feel likeIwas falling behind.
Whenmy brothers swung by to invite me out for a beer,Ihadn’t been quick enough with an excuse.OrmaybeIhadn’t really wanted to get out of hanging out with them.
