Page 8 of Deep Gap

So following through and to not disappoint Byron before his tree search begins is the least I can do.

His initial invitation excited me. I even finished my glass Christmas tree after Byron left that evening thinking about decorating his tree at his place. Not that garland and tinsel were part of the offer. I’d just concocted that little delusion.

I’d also really, really, want to get a thing or two at the bee shop. Nothing big. A sampler maybe to see how the owners had packaged it together. The colors, the labels, ingredients. I’d like the gifts I give to be as nice. I guess snapping a photo with my phone to refer back to will have to suffice.

Finished with my first task, I steer the wheeled bucket with the mop handle into the hall. Kicking the triangular stopper out of the day with my toe, I let the door slam. I lean back against the wood and sigh. My fingers tuck into my back pocket for the crumpled piece of paper I’ve been carrying around. No matter how many times I’ve read it, the information hasn’t magically poofed in my favor.

“What ya got there?”

I jump, clutching the letter to my chest. Then I wad it up and shove it back into my pants. “You freakin’ scared me!”

My heart speeds up when Byron smirks. Feeling warm and nauseous, I place a palm to my forehead.

“Greer, is it something serious?”

That all depends on who you are. For me, who lives paycheck to paycheck, it’s a big deal. Waylon upped my rent. By a lot. I’m in a catch twenty-two, not able to afford anyplace else and not able to tell Waylon to go fuck himself every time he tries to come on to me.

“I got it covered. You’re here early.” At seven am, it’s pitch black out. My hand is still rubbing my temple when it dawns on me. “Hold on, didn’t you ask for the day off?”

We’d agreed to meet at the training center after my shift was over. I have an extra shirt and pants in my backpack. Plus zipper storage bags to stick all the clothes I’m wearing now in. I don’t want the car reeking of Pine Sol. Although, we’re chopping down a tree and pine is pine, right? Maybe Byron wouldn’t notice.

“Long drive ahead of us. I figured an extra pair of hands might get us on the road sooner?”

“I get paid by the hour.”

“I passed it by Karen.”

My tooth wiggles into my lip and I tip my chin up, ready to argue. “She’s okay with this?”

“As long as the job is done, you’re golden.”

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4

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Two hours and two phone calls later, Greer agrees to leave early for the mountains. She had to call Karen once to confirm my side of the story—that I could help her with the tasks to get done sooner—and Mac answered a second time when Green informed him we’d finished up everything.

On speakerphone, Mac sounded impatient, pleading with Greer to just go. It wasn’t the end of the world if we hadn’t gotten to everything. Whatever was leftover could wait for tomorrow.

I honestly believe we did more than what Greer would have in a given day. While I popped a load of washing into the training center’s machine and folded what was already dry, she kept finding nooks and crannies to dust. Extra things were sprayed and wiped down. Non-existent stains were as transparent to me before she attacked them with gusto as they were after.

She gave me the loser tasks and took most of the grunt work for herself instead of spreading the wealth around. I wouldn’t have minded scrubbing a toilet bowl or mopping the floor. Latrine duty wasn’t the pinnacle of my Army career, but I’m not above doing it.

Greer stares out the passenger window. She’s nibbling on her index finger. I notice her fingernails are short and consider reaching across the console to remove her hand from her face.

Normally bound at the nape of her neck, Greer’s blonde hair spills over the shoulders of the thick red sweater she changed into before we left. I’ve been hoping for a glimpse of the circumspect smile she had on at her apartment telling me about organic bee products. However, the single nudge I’d given her was proof positive Greer is uncomfortable being touched.

This isn’t a date. Just two friendly people sloughing off the loneliness the season highlights. I’m definitely not trying to impress her. Nor am I enamored by the color of her cheeks. Whether she’s overheated from cleaning, stomping her feet from the cold, or embarrassed, the natural rosiness isn’t something I’ve begun to notice.

“I’ve been looking forward to this all week.” I fiddle with the radio, breaking the ice.

She turns startled, almost as if she’s forgotten I was driving the car, and hesitant in replying, “Me too.” She moves her hands, fiddling them in her lap. “You didn’t bring the dogs. I thought they went everywhere with you.”

“They are my entourage, aren’t they? I do go out on my own. The separation is good for them.” I pause and breathe out heavily. “Not sure how Jovie is going to handle it when Tallulah goes to her forever home. It’s starting to stress me out, actually.”

“Why not get another?”

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