“Well, maybe notallthings,” I said gently, “but he is right about that bad word.”
“No, I’m right about all things,” Ben said teasingly.
“No, I don’t think you are.” I forced a little laugh. “No one can be right about all things.”
“No! My dad is right about everything.” Li spoke loudly and sounded wildly protective.
“Hahah, yes, you’re probably right,” I conceded. I wasn’t going to argue with a six-year-old who adored her father more than pink tutus and shiny things.
“So, what brings you to the rose bushes so early on a Sunday morning?” Ben folded his arms and looked at me, his brow furrowing in a curious questioning manner.
“I was going to prune them,” I said as fast as possible. It was the first thing that had come to mind—the fact that I was without garden shears was merely an irrelevant detail that hopefully Ben was going to overlook . . .not likely.
“I didn’t know you were into gardening.”
I nodded. “Yup. I love pruning roses.”
“Like you love running ten miles in the morning.” Ben smiled. My heart skipped a beat as I watched his whole face change as that naughty, skew smile lit up his eyes once more.
“Ben!” I suddenly declared for no reason whatsoever.
“Sera. Sera De La Haye.”
“Mmmm. Ben. Ben White.”
“So we meet again,” he said.
I looked at him, shook my head slightly in disapproval and shrugged. “It would seem so.”
“You know, it’s rather apt that you’re lurking in the rose bushes, because did you know that your surname comes from the old French word ‘haye’, meaning ‘hedge?’”
“Really?” I was unconvinced.
“I Googled it,” he said. “If you don’t believe me you can check.”
“That’s okay, I believe you,” I quickly replied.
“By the way, weren’t you also down in the laundry room earlier?” he asked.
I nodded. “That was me. Doing the laundry.”
“Very diligent of you.”
“I try.” I folded my arms trying to look casual and not look like a person that had just been busted for snooping and sneaking and general creepy stalker behavior.
“Happen to listen to any good music latterly?”
“Mmmm, not that I can recall,” I said quickly. “But thanks for asking.”
“Pleasure.” He smiled at me and I couldn’t help my tiny smile in response.
“And now?” He looked at my scarf.
“I seem to be a bit stuck,” I said.
“Why don’t you just take the pruning shears and cut that other branch it’s hooked on.”
“The pruning shears,” I repeated.
