“Sorry, Pops,” I respond gruffly, clearing my throat. He raises his brow and looks at me over the water, and I know what he’s asking, so I’m relieved when I hear Clover’s voice coming closer.
“Hey, Lennon is trying to dig up worms to use for fishing later. She is convinced we are never going to be able to leave again, and we will have to live off the fish in the river,” Clover laughs, coming to a stop next to me. “I have a bit of downtime before I explain to her again that we will go to a grocery store soon. What can I help with?”
I think about the way she says ‘we’. ‘We’ will go to the grocery store, like it’s something ‘we’ do all the time. Shop for what we are going to eat on Tuesday night, and we all agree on spaghetti because Lennon likes noodles on Tuesdays.
I wonder if Clover will ever know that. If she will know that when it gets warmer, I take her out and we forage for berries. I get to teach her about what’s safe, and explain that we need to wait a while before the berries are ready, and when they are, they’re perfect. You can’t rush them.
“Uh, let’s see,” I say, looking around. “I need to anchor this cable right there,” I tell her, pointing. I’m about to explain to her that she can help by holding the cable up here until I get the anchor in the ground, but she’s traipsing down the embankment. “Clover!” I snap. She whirls around at the harshness in my voice, eyebrows raised in a ‘who the fuck do you think you are talking to’ expression. I don’t give a shit. She’s walking towards really soft ground, and she doesn’t know the difference.
“You can’t go past where the rocks are jagged right there. The ground is softer, and it’ll break away.”
She glares at me briefly before pressing the toe of her shoe in the ground just past the line I told her not to cross. When a hole doesn’t open in the earth and swallow her up, she returns a frustrated expression, her nose scrunched up.
“Are you always this cautious? Or is it just a me thing?” She snaps.
“It’s a safety thing, Clover Jane,” I say sternly. She can play cute all she wants, but I’m not messing around right now.
“And a you thing,” I add and grumble.
My dad chokes back a laugh, and Clover and I both shoot him a pointed look. He puts his hands up in surrender.
She manages to get the anchor into the ground, and I attach the cable to it, double-checking that it’s secure. She did pretty good.
When my dad starts sending the lumber and cinder blocks over, Clover is right there again, trying to lift shit—with the completely wrong form. I take the armload she has and move it myself before she can get very far with it. She picks up another armful. When I take it, she actually stomps her foot.
“I got it,” I tell her.
“I can carry that,” she huffs, following me.
“Didn’t say you couldn’t,” I reply.
“I’m not fragile, Beckett Hayes Hollis.” Her tone is sharper. I’m getting under her skin.
Good. Get angry, baby.
“Didn’t say you were, Clover Jane Kerington. I’m saying I don’t need you doing that.”
She lets out an irritated growl. “You don’t need me doing much of anything, it seems.”
“That’s not what this is, CJ,” I say through my teeth. I haven’t called her CJ in forever. “It’s about wanting to keep you fucking safe.”
“It’s about micromanaging me, like you always have,” she snaps back.
“God forbid I actually fucking care about you, right?” I roar.
The world goes silent. Mom and Dad walk to the truck, busying themselves with something. Anything to get them away from . . . whatever this is.
“Do you, Beckett?” Clover whispers, her tone challenging me. “Because it seems like you can’t decide between hating me or worshiping me from between my thighs.”
My face immediately gets hot at the mental image.
“I far from hate you, Lucky girl,” I say slowly, reverently. “Yours is the only church I’d attend again . . . and again . . . ”
Our faces are so close that I can feel her breath against my lips. Her pretty eyes are glazed over, and I can’t help but take her pouty fucking lip in between my teeth?—
And then I suddenly remember my parents are right there. A reality that comes crashing in when my mom clears her throat, which pulls me away from Clover just in time for Lennon to come flying between us.
“Dad? Lovey?”
