Pushing out the heavy door at the top, I introduce her to the cluttered space.“We installed lightweight wood tiles for a nicer look,” I explain, motioning to our feet.“And the selfie sign.”I point to the beautifully painted, rectangular sign along the outer wall, overlooking the river, that advertises the Weird But True Museum.“But we wanted to have the gardens installed before arranging anything else.So, pardon the mess.”
She scans the unique outdoor sculptures Marnie has acquired, presently tucked into a corner, and the supplies to build a fairy garden.She bypasses that for the stack of gardening supplies and the large, plastic raised beds that Dr.Blake had delivered here.
“Water?”she asks.
“Over there.”I point to the gray barrel along the edge of the building that’s full from last night’s storms.
“Good.I’ll run some tests to confirm the pH and mineral content are correct.Rainwater is best.Never water them from the tap,” she instructs.
“No tap for the traps.Got it,” I chuckle, but she’s unamused.
“I’ll be creating two mini-bogs with moats to filter the water.You shouldn’t need to do much once the garden is finished.”
I nod.“Just the way I like it.”
After a brief inspection of the materials, she sets her bin on the floor.“I’ll retrieve the other bin from the Land Rover and get started.”
“Can I help?”My words bubble up slowly through sudden, inexplicable nerves.“I could help, if you want.”
“No need,” she says blankly, “but thank you.”
She edges around me for the door and flees down the stairs.
I don’t know what to do with myself.I want to spend time with her, gathering up pieces of her before she’s gone altogether.But I understand why she wants to keep her distance.I find work to do in the museum, close enough that she knows where I am, but not so close that I’m hovering.
She wears a teal scarf today, holding only half her hair.The rest waves lightly on her shoulders as she bounces down the steps ahead of me and soon returns with her second bin of plants.She doesn’t look at me as she strides by, but keeps her eyes on the path ahead.
Her aloofness feels devastating.But I reason out my feelings with reality—I don’t need the complication a relationship would bring, especially with a woman who won’t stick around.Focus on work—that’s what has helped before.
But it’s not as effective this time.
Nearly two hours pass.Dot shows up, looking for her “little black tablet,” which holds her schedule and supply lists for her projects.“If it’s not here, I’m screwed,” she announces, barging inside.
“I haven’t seen it, but I’ll help you look,” I offer, glad for the distraction, but the doorbell chimes again.
Mr.Massie stands on the other side of the glass, holding his black case and looking determined.“I know you’re busy, but I believe youneedme, Henry.”
“Need you for what?”I ask, trying not to sound annoyed.
“To help you run this place,” he answers, like it’s obvious.“I’ll chat up the guests with my stunning personality and delight the masses with my sword swallowing routine while they view your incredible exhibits.I’ll work for tips.You wouldn’t have to?—”
“No, Mr.Massie.No offense, but I don’t want an act for the museum.”
“But you haven’t even seen it yet.Please?All I’m asking for is fifteen minutes.You’ll be amazed.I promise.”
My shoulders slump before jerking up again as items clatter to the floor inside.“I should help her.”
“I’ll come, too,” he says, pushing through the door.
“Damn it!”Dot looks up from her frantic searching when we appear through the hallway.“I don’t know what I’ve done with it.What did we do yesterday?”She scratches her black hair under her ball cap.Then, she snaps her fingers.“The witch!”
She flees into the inner room and returns, holding the tablet up like a trophy.“I set it down when I moved that display case in there on Friday...Oh, what’s up, Eric the Sword-Swallower?”
“Hoping to show Henry my act,” he says dramatically.“He’s not too keen, though.”
Dot slaps my shoulder.“What harm would it do?You know, except to his internal organs?”
“No Erics will be harmed in this production, but it might blow your mind,” he quips, laughing.
