Page 76 of Lovingly Restored

“Don’t throw it!” I raise both hands in surrender. I crouch, kissing her deep, tension melting off my shoulders. “How’s my favourite plant mom?”

She rolls her eyes. I’ve overheard her whispering to her fledgling garden, but if that’s the weirdest thing I discover about Ashlyn, so be it.

“Speaking of neighbours. Jackson next door invited us for a drink.”

“Who the fuck is Jackson?”

There was a time when people on this street weren’t strangers. Most of the occupants of the neighbourhood from when I was young sold long ago. So many families are priced out of living in areas like this one with large, single-family homes.

She points at the two-story next door. “Jackson. We were talking earlier. He offered to help mow the grass back here.”

And the tension is back.

“And who does Jackson live with?”

“Himself.”

Shocking.

“Why does a single guy need a whole house for himself?”

She laughs, taking a small bit of pleasure in the jealousy leaching into my words. “Isn’t it your literal dream to own this house?”

“That’s different. It’s smaller. And I wouldn’t live here alone.”

Her eyebrows rise. Lately, whenever I picture owning Mummo’s house, someone else is sharing it with me. But those fantasies are premature. She doesn’t question me further.

“Anyway,” I steer the conversation back to the nosy neighbour, “I bet you ten boxes of Lucky Charms that Jackson was only inviting you. And you can tell him I’ll mow my own fucking lawn.”

Her floral gloves fist on her hips. “What are you so riled up about?”

“I don’t much like the idea ofcertain people,“ I raise my voice loud enough for any neighbours to hear, “watching you out here. It’s not even summer yet, will you be doing it in a bikini by then?”

“If I’m still working here. You can bet I will.”

Will my dad find an assisted living space for Mummo by then? The thought of Ashlyn being gone by summer is a bigger gut punch than picturing Jackson leering at Ashlyn from his big empty house.

“Good thing I know a guy that can put up a twelve-foot privacy fence.”

She gasps, moving to guard her plants. “You wouldn’t dare. That will be way too much shade for them.”

“We’re at an impasse.” I fold my arms, eyebrows furrowed.

“Think of the children.” She strokes a tender green leaf.

“Plant mom. Told you.”

She rubs her eyes, smudging dark dirt across her rosy cheeks and forehead. “Oh, Isaac?”

I melt at her sultry tone. “Yeah, baby?”

“Don’tevertell me what to wear again.“ She reaches out and swipes the rest of the damp dirt across my cheek before taking off as fast as her bare feet will take her.

“I’m showering first!”

“What’s for dinner?” I call after her.

“Do I look like a chef?” She sticks her tongue out at me over her shoulder. “I’m just the nurse!”

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