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If only it were that easy to get her in a boat now. Tea didn’t have any desire to go near the water, except for dipping her toes in as she sat on the dock or stood on the beach. He wanted to push, but he knew it wasn’t his place. Things were…fragile. Like a delicate vase that broke into dozens of pieces, glued carefully together but left with jagged scars. He knew saying something would be the equivalent of throwing that vase across the room.
So he made her coffee, as promised. He would fill his Chemex every morning, pour the hot coffee in a carafe, and place it on his kitchen table with a fresh mug. She would come over with a plate of whatever Kelly baked in Cabin B that morning—blueberry muffins, French breakfast puffs, sticky pecan rolls—and force Archer to eat one before he left her to settle in at his table with her laptop for the day. Caffeinated and buzzed on whatever sugary creation Tea bullied him into eating, he left her to handle the outdoor tasks. He pulled pesky weeds that lined the beach. He power washed the docks until they gleamed. He even had time to spray the lawn and kill the clovers that attracted too many bees. The flowers dotted across the lawn did make the resort seem quaint, but the bees that congregated around them made it hard for people to walk safely around barefoot. And everyone walked around barefoot here.
That fourth day when he returned for lunch, frustrated by whoever didn’t clean up after themselves in the fishing cabin again, he walked in on Tea examining his wall of sticky notes. Or, what was his wall of sticky notes.
Instead of a haphazard collection of tasks on his wall, she organized the squares into categories, each sticky note lined up vertically under a column of tasks. Outdoor repairs. Cleaning. Administrative to-do’s. Silver Falls Lake Association. Community building. She even had a column for personal goals, like painting the cabin and replacing the ripped up old couch. As impressed as he was with the organization of it all, he couldn’t help imagine what this wall would look like when the resort opened up fully. Would the number of sticky notes double when there were tasks to do for renters to visit, like cleaning the cabins and arranging boat and pontoon rentals? Would the organized system go back to complete chaos without Tea helping him keep things in line?
Archer watched her pull another note from the administrative tasks, one of the only columns that had less than three sticky notes under it.
He whistled. “Damn, Richards. You don’t mess around.”
Tea sipped her steaming coffee, still fresh from the carafe he made her. “What did you finish up?”
“Cleared the pine tree sap on the roof of the storage unit, and replaced the batteries for all the lift remotes. I even had time to fix Jorge’s boat.”
She pulled three sticky notes off the wall and crinkled them in her hand.
“Oh, and the fishing cabin, but that’s usually not on there.” He grumbled to himself as he made his way to his kitchen, snatching his bag of Wonder bread, then opening the fridge.
She squinted at him. “And why’s that?”
He shrugged. “It’s practically a daily occurrence. Someone is gutting fish and not cleaning the cabin.”
She rolled her eyes. Archer watched as she grabbed the pad of sticky notes and scribbled something down. She smacked it on the wall, then pointed to it. “These are talking points that need to be addressed for the owners’ meeting. We’ll keep adding to it, then put together the agenda on July first and email it out to everyone so they know what needs to be discussed.”
“Email it out? Doesn’t that seem excessive?”
“Not if we want to get everything accomplished. Those meetings aren’t exactly known for being productive.”
“True that.” He slathered yellow mustard onto his bread, then opened his package of bologna, not meeting her eyes as he said, “Make sure you add jet skis on there.”
“Already done.”
His head whipped in her direction. “How did you—?”
“It used to be on the agenda every year. I assumed.”
Archer smiled, thankful his mask was covering his face. She was always ten steps ahead of everyone, capable and strong and reliable. And a tad bit stubborn. Or…more than a tad bit. It was one of the many reasons why he’d fallen for her in the first place. Not like that was the case now though.
He removed his mask to take a bite of his sandwich. “Want lunch?”
“What lunch are you offering?”
“Um, a sandwich?” he said with a mouth full of food.
She sighed. “What else do you have?”
“A jar of blackberry jam and a frozen pizza.”
“Seriously? That’s it?”
He shrugged. “I eat whatever I can steal from my mom’s fridge when she’s not in her cabin.”
Tea sighed, then grabbed her tote bag on the table. “Okay, let’s go.”
“Go…where?”
“The grocery store? I’m not spending my summer in what you call a ‘depressing cabin’ with nothing to eat.”
