Page 25 of Barefoot Lake

“No! Go ahead.”

“I feel weird talking about your brother in front of you!”

Scott scoffs. “Puh-lease. This is a safe space. I’m just one of the girls.” His eyes dart over to Piper, wide with regret. “But not like that! Not that girls aren’t great! I love girls! They’re the best!”

The poor man takes a deep breath as the rest of us try not to laugh.

“I mean that I can keep my mouth shut,” he finishes.

“Ok, ok. I just feel like Jake thinks I’m inept, or a moron, or both.”

Probably both. I like it when the people near me are happy, and it bugs me that I’ve been such a disaster, especially around somebody that my mom thought was important.

“First, he schools me about how I was failing to take care of Mom’s house, and then he has to pick us up in the middle of the night from a police station, and then he helps me with my tire. I feel like a walking disaster. Plus, he helped my mom when she lived here. I’m hardly thanking him for that.”

“Jake doesn’t do what he does for thanks, so you don’t need to even the score or anything. He’s just somebody who likes to help. Always has been.” It’s clear from the way that Scott talks about Jake that he adores his brother. “He upended his whole life for me, and never let me thank him for it because he’s insisted there was never anything to thank him for.”

I look down, feeling another sudden rush of affection for my burly neighbor. I keep getting glimpses of his kindness that are completely at odds with the growly beast in my shed yesterday morning, and I like them.

“It sounds like he’s basically a fairy tale hero. Don’t you think, Ace?” Piper raises and lowers her eyebrows so dramatically that she looks like she belongs in a comic strip.

“He’s a very nice man,” I grit out, willing her to knock it off. Scott and Grateful Bob politely ignore her shenanigans. I continue, “I know I don’t need to ‘even the score,’ but I do want to thank him properly. You know, try to start with a clean slate after threatening him with a frying pan the first time we met.”

Scott and Grateful Bob both bark out laughs.

“You what?” Scott wheezes, and I explain the story.

“I thought he was some kind of ruffian!”

That just has them laughing harder. Apparently, ruffians are few and far between around Barefoot Lake.

“Will you two knock it off and help me?” I plead. “I tried to offer to cook him dinner, and he basically kicked me out of his house. Is there something unobtrusive I can do to help him out and say thanks?”

The two men furrow their brows as they seriously consider my request. Scott speaks first.

“There’s not really anything Jake wants. He’s a simple guy.”

“Hm… That’s not true,” Grateful Bob counters before turning to me. “Ever since he was little, that boy has wanted a golden retriever. You should get him a dog.”

“That’s right!” Scott says. “I remember him asking our parents for one all the time when he was in high school. He’d love a dog.”

I sag in my seat. “Guys. ‘Unobtrusive,’ remember? I love dogs as much as the next person, but I want to make his life easier, and they’re a ton of work. Do you have any other ideas?”

They think for another minute.

“It’s boring, but you could clean his boat,” Scott suggests with a shrug. “He’ll have to take it out of the water soon to store it for the winter, and it should be cleaned before it goes into storage. It would be one less thing for him to do, and it’s no more difficult than cleaning something like patio furniture.”

I perk up. “I’m a great cleaner! I could totally do that!”

“If you’re sure…” Scott seems dubious of somebody so excited about cleaning but probably just writes it off as me being a weirdo. “I can get him out of the house for a few hours this afternoon if it would help.”

“That would be perfect, thank you.” I feel good about this. Acts of Service is my giving love language, and it’s satisfying to have found a way to help my enigmatic neighbor.

I sit on the couch scratching the dozens of mosquito bites peppering my legs while Piper paces near the front windows, waiting for Jake and Scott to leave.

“Are you sure you didn’t get any mosquito bites? I swear I got bit like thirty times.”

“I’m sure! They must just love you.”