She looks at me.
“And for you?”
I glance at the menu, but my brain is still stuck on the part where my yard apparently behaves like battlefield terrain.
“Whatever he’s having.”
Millie beams like I just confirmed her favorite theory.
“Smart woman.”
She disappears again. I wrap my hands around the mug and take a sip of coffee strong enough to wake the dead.
Troy watches me. Not in a creepy way. Just… observant. The kind of observant that makes me suddenly aware of how I’m sitting, how I’m holding my coffee, how close his hands are to mine on the table.
“So,” he says finally, “what’s your plan?”
I blink.
“My plan?”
“With the property.”
Oh, right. The plan. I take another sip of coffee and stall for time.
“Well,” I say slowly, “step one was to buy tools.”
He nods toward the window.
“How’d that go?”
“Debatable.”
A small smile flickers across his face. Encouraging.
“I figured I’d start with the gutters,” I continue. “Maybe patch the roof if it looks bad enough. After that I was thinking I might try starting a garden.”
He leans back in the booth.
“What kind?”
“I don’t know.”
“Vegetables?”
“Yes?”
“Fruit?”
“Maybe?”
I squint at him.
“Are these trick questions?”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
