Page 2 of Loved By Tandy

“Y’all can get up. But hurry. These guys will come back.” He opens the front door. “Everyone inside.”

Hurry. That’s a funny one. Getting up is a multistep process.

I give Matthew one more shove. For old times’ sake. He stands and holds out his hand.

After rolling my eyes, I roll to my stomach and work my way to my knees and then my feet. Then I bolt for the door. Once I’m inside, I check my clothes for gasoline spots.

Blake slams the front door. “You need to change your clothes. Do you have any cat litter?”

I’m already angry that Matthew is here. Angrier that he was on top of me, and now Blake is basically calling me a stereotype. And I don’t hesitate to unleash my frustration. “I find it highly offensive that just because I’m old and single, you assume I have cats.”

He blinks, then shakes his head. “Offending you was not my intention.”

Matthew snickers, and when I glance at him, his amusement morphs into a full belly laugh.

Chip and Dale, my orange tabbies, have decided that now is a good time to make an appearance. They weave circles between Matthew’s boots.

Blake spots the cats and joins in the laughter. But to his credit, he composes himself quickly. “Where can I find the litter?”

“Used or unused?” One day, I’ll learn to keep my trap shut. But that day better hurry because I’m already in my seventies, and I still haven’t learned.

Matthew wipes his eyes. “Either. If used litter on your front porch doesn’t bother you, it should work just as well.”

I’ll trade barbs with Blake, but I refuse to talk to Matthew Gallagher. That man is part of my past, and I intend to keep it that way.

“There is a box of litter in the laundry room. And, Blake, please inform your hired help that I will not be speaking to him. Only to you.”

Blake wiggles the toothpick in his mouth. “This should be a fun project.” He nods toward the hall. “You change. I’ll start getting the gasoline soaked up.”

I march down the hall and just before I close my bedroom door, I hear Matthew say, “Looks like my coming really stirred up the hornet’s nest.”

Just before I yell that he’s not funny, I remember that I’m not speaking to him. So I keep that thought to myself.

Blake will be getting an earful from me. My gut says that he asked Matthew to help just so that I’d have to be around the man. It’s what I would do. I guess I can’t be too mad. I shouldn’t have been so obvious about my disdain for the old geezer.

When I walk back out, Blake is peeking out the skinny window beside the door. Wasps are still swarming on the porch. “They’re still fuming. Get it. Fumes?” He chuckles at his own pun. “I put litter on the gasoline, but I’ll have to sweep it up later. It’s dangerous out there right now. And later, after I leave, do not do anything to that nest. I’ll take care of it.”

“I’ll let you.” I have no interest in doing battle with wasps. I need to save my energy for battling Matthew. But thanks to him, I escaped the situation without being stung.

He wasn’t quite so lucky. He has a welt on his cheek, another on his neck, and he keeps shifting his shirt like his back itches.

It would be polite to thank him for protecting me, but the sting of him walking out on me so many years ago keeps my jaw set. He was the only witness to the most embarrassing moment of my life. And I’ve carried resentment for so long, I’m not evensure what would happen if I let go of it. I’m not even sure I can let go of it.

I’m in my jammies,tapping out the rest of the chapter when I hear footsteps on the front porch. Listening, I wait for a knock.

But whoever is on my porch doesn’t knock. They just keep moving around out there.

Should I risk turning on the porch light? With the gasoline caked into the litter, I’m a bit hesitant about that. So I peer out the skinny window into the darkness.

Matthew’s smiling face appears in the window, and he waves. “I’m getting rid of the nest and cleaning up. Don’t mind me.”

I walk away. But curiosity pulls me back. He’s limping. Having a plus-sized old lady land on him must have hurt.

Still at the window, I watch until he finishes. Maybe I’m being too hard on the man. He is being sweet. Once everything is swept up, he rests a broom against the wall and waves before heading down the stairs.

When he reaches the bottom step, he turns around and blows me a kiss.

Oh, that man makes me so mad.

---