Page 6 of Deep Gap

“What is all of this?” He motions to the gray tub filled with my treasured supplies.

“I’m making small batches of soap for Christmas gifts. Mac gave me the wax and honey. I got a coupon for the craft store, bought the lye and some lavender extract to experiment with.”

The silicon mold, spoons, spatulas, and pot, along with a few other items, are from my favorite haunt; the thrift shop. When you are on the receiving end, the quality finds people toss in the donation bins are quite surprising.

“Where did you learn to make soap? Let me guess… Pinterest.”

“The internet, so yes and no.” I wiggle the cell phone my mom got me last Christmas. It’s pretty handy at feeding my newfound additions; streaming television, music, and online shopping, which in my case is more like online browsing.

Although, the craft projects I find on the web are what keep me content. Minus the first, which was an epic disaster, I show Byron the progression of test batches of soap. I’ve intentionally kept my mistakes small since I don’t want to waste the precious amount of supplies I have, and I use the not quite perfect ones that I actually managed to turn into soap in the shower. Each batch has turned out better than the last. He asks why I’m not wrapping these particular bars and I’m caught for how to explain my insecurities without bringing up my past.

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Her tooth wiggles into her plump lower lip. I can’t tell if Greer is pleased by my compliment, or if she’s retreating into herself.

She has a single sample of soap wrapped in corrugated paper with a thin ribbon and a sprig of some flower I can’t name attached.

“They smell wonderful. What’s not to like about them?”

“I saw soaps online and am wondering if these are good enough. There’s a shop out toward the Blue Ridge that not only sells beekeeping supplies, but all handmade items from infused honey to organic lip balms. Their soap molds make my rectangular bricks seem childish. Admittedly, part of me wonders if I held the store’s products in my hand if the wonders of the internet would fade.”

“So go look around the shop.”

“Whatever. Going all the way out there is a pipe dream and the last one I had was more like a pipe bomb that exploded in my face.” Greer takes a hard swallow, seeming to regret her words as soon as they’ve left her mouth. “Besides, I don’t drive,” she scoffs.

“I could take you.”

She cocks her chin, looking up at me with sudden, suspicious interest. “You do know who I am, right?”

“I’m aware of what happened.” Mac took me aside to explain the situation when he and Karen decided to offer Greer a job.

I’ve been in my fair share of tough spots in my life, Trig and I lost a lot of good friends overseas, but can’t imagine the shared experience my employers and this young woman have together.

It’s also not my place to judge. Mac and Karen are fair and, as an employee, Greer hasn’t caused any problems in the least. It’s actually the opposite.

“Oh.” Greer blinks and I notice how long her eyelashes are.

“Think it over. I haven’t been to the mountains in ages. As for the water, Trig recommends a guy—”

Greer cuts me off. “I can’t afford a guy. Waylon’s supposed to repair things. Mostly he breaks more than he fixes.” She rolls her eyes. “It’s not a big deal. You’re the only person who’s been inside, other than my mom when she drops me off. I’ll warn her. I’m sorry it slipped my mind to mention it to you.” Her cheeks flush.

I had the feeling Waylon was as dangerous as Greer’s hot water situation.

“What I was about to say was ‘but how about we use that phone to search how to fix your bathroom faucet?’. I have a sneaking suspicion it’s not as difficult as you may think, and I’d rather not see anyone get burned.” I insist. “You gave me a lesson in bees. Let me teach you the finer points of searching YouTube and indoor plumbing.”

“Ah, your dogs are still in the car. Want to bring them up?”

Certain she’s saying this to get rid of me, I take Greer up on the invite. The girls freely roam the apartment, poking their noses where they don’t belong. We wind up playing with Tallulah and Jovie before they settle on the sofa alongside us and we get down to the nitty-gritty. I’m having a nice afternoon for what was supposed to be a quick drop-off.

Greer unlocks her cell. I tell her what to type in the search bar. The videos load and her jaw drops.

“That’s it?” She scrambles past me into the bedroom.

I can see the soles of her shoes when she kneels and flings the cabinet under the sink open. There’s an audible squeak when she turns the valve. And I swear if this were a PG movie she’d have called Waylon that “sneaky, good for nothing…” but what she does call him is deserved.

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