Page 13 of A Lesson for Laurel

“Not to insult you,” Aunt Carrie said, “but you haven’t done it in years. Maybe you’ve gotten soft sitting behind that desk.”

He laughed. He always loved her spunk. “I might have, but one week in there was some muscle memory. I’m all good. Think of the muscles I’m building. The women are just going to eat it up.”

His aunt was laughing and he knew it was the right thing to say.

“Glad it can help. Now you just have to let someone in.”

He thought of Laurel and that he’d dropped his guard more with her than anyone else.

Not that they exchanged numbers or anything, even though they had a date.

They knew where to find each other and that was good enough for him right now.

“If it’s meant,” he said, “I will.”

“You’re humoring me,” Aunt Carrie said.

“Do you think?” he asked.

“I’ll give the phone back to Abe,” Aunt Carrie said. “He’s waving his hand so that means my time is up.”

“Hey,” Abe said. “Sorry about that. You know she has to get her opinions in.”

“It’s all good,” he said. “I met your neighbor the other day. Thought I should tell you she helped with the pavers.”

“The hot chick in the little cottage?”

“Not sure there are any other hot chicks around here,” he said. “Have you talked to her?”

This made no sense.

“Nope,” Abe said. “I’ve seen her coming and going when I’ve been in the house or pulling into the driveway. I wave but nothing up close. She probably thinks we are the same person. We are the same age and have a lot of the same features from a distance.”

Nowthatmade more sense.

“Could be,” he said.

“How did she help you?” Abe said. “Sit there and talk while you worked? I didn’t picture her as someone throwing stones and pavers around.”

“I didn’t think so either, but she was handing them off both days. Says she was bored and needed something to do.”

Abe laughed. “I wish I was home rather than you. I wouldn’t have minded her company.”

He wasn’t sure why he felt an inner burst of jealousy over those words for a man who was told he never felt jealousy before toward a woman.

“You’d have nothing to talk to her about,” he said.

“She talked to you. Unless she likes stuffy men. Is that the case? I’m not sure what she does for work. She hasn’t been there long.”

“I’m not stuffy,” he said. At least he didn’t think he was. Laurel didn’t appear to think that either.

“You didn’t tell me what she did. Or don’t you know?”

“I know,” he said. He told Abe how he met Laurel, the ex on the porch, the way she handled herself, then the rest of their time together.

“Damn,” Abe said. “Guess you did more talking than I thought. More than I’d do. I’d just be staring at her.”

He snorted. “Most likely. Then she’d kickyourbutt. I’m sure she could too.”

---