The sun was setting over the horizon, so she’d have to give it up soon or risk being attacked by the mosquitoes, which seemed to love her. Those bloodsuckers were probably a metaphor for all the men in her life. Always latching onto her and sucking her dry,leaving her sore, swollen, and… itchy? No, that didn’t make sense.
Sitting back on her haunches, Gia wiped the sweat off her forehead with her dirt-covered arm. She couldn’t help but chuckle at her ridiculous thoughts.
Therapy and yoga taught her she’d misplaced her anger for years. She wasn’t angry at Jake, per se. She was angry with herself. At her involuntary reaction to Jake.
How was it possible to still want someone she had not seen in over a decade?
It seemed like a cruel joke.
The last thing on her mind was being in any type of situation where a man could put his hands on her again. Though she knew Jake would never hurt her, it didn’t matter.
She was swearing off all men.
That’s it.
She’d be a single, washed-up actress with no job prospects or future, and end up dying in the same town she’d tried so desperately to escape.
“Ugh!” Gia screamed when a difficult weed resisted as she tried to tug it out with her gloved hands. Dropping back onto her haunches, she looked around for the three-claw rake to loosen up the dirt around the stubborn weed. “Ha! There you are!”
With her right hand on the rake and her left hand gripping the weed, she hacked at the dirt with more force than necessary. After a few swipes at it, she pulled the weed loose and grinned triumphantly at the tangle of roots coming with it.
“Gotcha, asshole.”
“God, I forgot how scary you are when you weed.” Minh’s amused voice came from above her, where she stood on the porch with Tuy?t Mai hanging on her hip.
Gia dropped the weed onto the pile she’d made. A blush stained her cheeks from being surprised.
“Yeah, well, he deserved it,” she retorted.
“He?” Minh’s brow raised in question as she assessed Gia.
“I meantit. Obviously. Since it’s a plant, and not a guy.”
“Right.”
“Yeah… Is everyone home already?” she asked, hoping to move the conversation back to neutral territory. Minh knew her too well and would probably start asking questions Gia didn’t want to answer.
“Just me and the kids. M? and Ba are closing up at the restaurant. Jake and Marley stayed behind to help.”
“Oh.”
“I’m making dinner. Come inside before you murder the rest of the plants.” Minh rolled her eyes and headed back inside. A curious Tuy?t Mai waved at Gia happily.
Gia scoffed. She would never do that. Still, she stood up and grimaced at how sore her muscles were. Dusting the dirt off her pants, she made her way up the steps to the back porch. Swiping her dirty shoes on the mat and leaving the borrowed Crocs outside, she yanked off the gardening gloves and hat and tossed them in the mudroom where she found them.
Instead of heading to the kitchen, she ran up the stairs and hopped in the shower to rinse off the grime and check for ticks. An old habit she hadn’t needed while living in Los Angeles, but one that came to her naturally. Some habits were hard to kill.
This time, instead of a punishing shower, Gia let the hot water relax her tense muscles. The sight of the dirt washing away from her skin mixed in with the strawberry-scented children’s body wash was a metaphor for the stress melting away. If only she could wash away all of her troubles so easily. The dirty water mixed with the bubbles as it circled the drain.
Once the water ran clear, Gia reluctantly turned it off, reached for a towel, and wrapped herself in it. The steam lingered comfortably around her. Grabbing her soiled clothing, she tiptoed down the hallway to her bedroom.
A few minutes later, she emerged from the bedroom dressed in a similar outfit but feeling more like her normal self. She’d forgotten how relaxing weeding was. It was too bad she didn’t have access to agarden of her own to tend. Maybe she could find one of those mini gardens to plant on her patio, or an indoor vegetable garden.
Gia followed her nose to the kitchen, where the source of the delicious aromas originated. Her stomach grumbled at the prospect of another home-cooked meal. Her culinary skills ended at reheatable meals and takeout, which didn’t carry the same appeal to her anymore.
The sounds of an Australian cartoon about a dog family drifted from the living room TV, but she walked right past on her way to the kitchen. Minh was at the sink washing dishes when she walked in.
“Yum, it smells delicious.” Gia walked over to the kitchen counter and grabbed a small bowl from the stack. She helped herself to the fresh rice from the rice cooker and moved on to scoop the seasoned chicken and boiled eggs from the saucepan. Another one of her favorites.
