Page 21 of When Fate Breaks
Blake’s head cocks to the side. “Uh...bless you?” That pushes a laugh out of me. “A what now?” he asks.
“AVan der Mooch,” I repeat, shaking my head. “It’s this family here. The Van der Michaels. They own practically this entire town and half of the next one over. They’re old money.Ramer Royalty,” I say, with air quotes. “None of their kids for the last five generations have had to truly work a day in their lives. They just…mooch. Off their parents. And so on.”
“And you don’t want to do that,” Blake says. It’s not a question.
“No,” I confirm. “I want to make something on my own. Be something on my own. Not just take credit for my parents' hard work.”
Blake stays quiet. When I realize he’s not going to say anything, I continue. “And…” I play with my apron string, twirling it between my fingers. “It’s too quiet in here. And boring. And it smells kinda bad sometimes. There you go, I gave you five reasons. An extra at no charge.”
“Okay,” Blake says, amused. “Well, what isn’t boring?”
I look to my side, scanning the hanging aisle signs. “The paint section,” I say. I look back at Blake before unhooking the register area chain and taking a few steps into the store. “C’mon,” I motion forward with my head when I see Blake still standing in the same spot.
He jogs a few steps to catch up with me as I lead us towards Aisle 12 at the back of the store; we only make it to Aisle 6, however, before I feel Blake hesitate next to me. A giggle escapes my lips when I see him craning his neck back to get a better look at our very small section of gardening supplies.
His head snaps back in my direction and I shake my head, laughing even harder. “Shut up,” he grumbles.
“I didn’t say a word,” I chuckle.
5
PRESENT DAY
Iset the pizza boxes down, bracing both hands on the counter and staring at the floor. I inhale deeply and exhale slowly, shaking my head in an effort to reset my brain. I don’t think it works that way, but I let myself pretend.
I grab one paper plate from the pantry, suddenly feeling too nauseous to eat, and slide two pieces of pepperoni pizza onto it from the box. I start to walk out of the kitchen but turn back, snagging one piece of pineapple pizza and cramming it into my mouth as I head out the back door.
Maybe the pizza will settle my stomach. Or maybe I’ll just puke. We’ll see.
When I reenter the backyard, I see Blake using a tape measure along one of the side window panes of the green house. I notice his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as he lines the tape up perfectly against the wood and a smile comes to my face. He pulls a pencil out from behind his ear and scribbles something down in a notebook he had sandwiched in his armpit.
How long was I inside?
I hold up the plate of pizza as Blake spots me. “Hungry?”
Blake nods, setting the notebook and pencil down on the wire tables to his side. “Starving,” he says, happily taking the paper plate from me. When Blake’s gaze finds the slice of pineapple pizza in my hand, a smile briefly flickers across his lips, but he doesn’t comment on it.
After I take my last bite, I brush my hands together to remove the crumbs, letting my arms fall into the crossed position as I walk into the greenhouse. Blake’s eyes follow me as he continues to eat his pizza, his body leaning against the doorframe. I run my finger along the dead strands of ivy plastered all along the walls until I reach the door that leads directly inside the main house from within the greenhouse. Although I can tell it was once white, it’s turned a dusty brown color from age and the film of grime covering it. Paint is peeling and cracking off in every dip and crevice of the door’s design and the antique bronze door knob has oxidized a bluish-green color over time. I wrap my hand around it, attempting to turn it, but it only moves a quarter rotation before it won’t budge any further. I’m sure this door hasn’t been opened in over a decade. I guess there was no need for greenhouse access when the greenhouse had been abandoned. I let my hand fall from the knob, turning to lean against the useless door to face Blake.
“So, what’s the verdict?” I ask.
Blake’s brows raise in question.
“Since I apparently have no idea…” I trail off, smiling tightly. “What do you think of this place?”
Blake pushes off of the doorway, walking into the greenhouse and further surveying the space. He turns his back to me to grip one of the wooden window panes; it easily sways, making the entire structure creak as he pushes it back and forth. “I think it would definitely take every bit of two weeks to make it usable again. Maybe more.”
My stomach twists.More than two weeks. Worse than I thought. There’s no way Blake’s company is going to let him stay out here that long. I feel a wave of guilt and stupidity for wasting his time. I should have just messaged him some pictures of the place ahead of time. But, then again, maybe a part of me wanted to see him. Even if it was just for an evening. I shake the thought from my head.
God, Annie, what were you thinking–
“But I know I can make this place incredible again. Even if it’s a bit of a wreck right now, the bones are all here. I’ve got plenty to work with and lots of potential routes I could go–”
“Wait,what?”
Blake stops talking at my interruption, spinning to look at me. “What?”
“You…you’re going to do it? You’re going to fix the greenhouse?”
