FLINGING DIRT

CHAPTER SIX

Today’s the day. Chris Loman will be knocking at my front door before the hour is up. Yes, it’s business related. And yes, he’ll be speaking to my mom specifically. These two facts don’t stop me from making a bit of extra effort. Do I usually blow-dry my hair before school? No, but I did this morning. Do I usually apply make up after school? No. Do I have a tendency to change outfits four times in ten minutes? Definitely not!

“Miriam?” Mom calls.

“Yeah?”

“I need you.”

Abandoning the tube of lipstick, I find her holding onto the back of a kitchen chair for support. “Mom, what’s wrong?”

“Help me get to bed, will you?”

Crossing the floor in record time, I bring an arm around her and guide her across the floor, down the hall and into her room at the end. She sits on the edge of her bed slumping slightly, her defeated posture scaring me. “Are you in pain?”

“No, nothing like that. Just tired.” As she looks up, she seems to really notice me. “You look so beautiful, Miriam. Are you going somewhere?”

Instantly feeling silly and self-conscious, I wipe some lipstick off with the back of my hand.

“Don’t, it looks lovely. It’s wonderful to see you taking chances and trying something new.”

“Can I get you anything? I can cancel the landscaper and sit with you.”

Mom heaves a sigh. “Now, don’t you fuss about me, sweetie. You have enough to worry about with final exams and everything.”

“I don’t mind, Mom, really. Besides, you know me. I’m prepared.”

“I know you are. You’re so like your dad that way. I used to pull all-nighters before exams, cramming everything in at the last minute. Still, I managed to pull it off. Have you ever done that, an all-nighter?”

“No.”

“Didn’t think so. You’ve always been so studious. You’ll go far, sweetie, I just know it.”

“And you’ll be here to see it happen.”

Mom gives me a little grin and leans sideways as I bend to pick up her legs, pivoting her around to a horizontal position on the bed. With her head now resting on the pillow, she closes her eyes.

I wait a few minutes until her breathing becomes rhythmic. Tiptoeing over, I close the blinds and pull a blanket up over her shoulders to tuck her in. Chris will be here in half an hour. Until then, I’ll let her sleep.

“Mom,” I say, resting my hand on her cheek. Whenever I have a hard time waking her, a wave of dread washes over me. “Mom,” I say again, a little louder now.

Her eyes flutter open and she seems disoriented. Yesterday’s round of chemo is clearly taking its toll. “Chris Loman is here with the landscape portfolio. Do you want to get up and see it?”

“No, sweetie, I’ll leave it to you. Can you do that for me?”

I nod. I don’t have the heart to say how nervous I am.

“If there’s a serious problem, I’ll call him later when I’m feeling better.”

“Sure. Get some sleep.”

“Thanks, Miriam. I can always count on you.” She kisses my hand and then pats it comfortingly like she always has.

Closing her door, I take a deep breath as a ripple of panic finds my belly. It’s just Chris and I now, but I dismiss the nerves and remind myself that this is business and Mom is relying on me. Time to put my juvenile crush aside and grow up. I walk quietly down the hall to meet him. He’s standing on the welcome mat at the front door where I left him. “Sorry. My mom is feeling ill today. Looks like it’s just you and me.”

Chris seems to hesitate. “Is your mom alright?”

“Um, yes, she’s fine.” Divulging more is too painful. Chris searches my eyes as if coaxing me to reveal more, but I’m not ready. Besides, telling too many people feels like I’m betraying her confidence. I want to guard her privacy for as long as possible.

“Why don’t we go to the backyard and talk the plans through,” he suggests.

“Sure.” I like the momentum of this idea. It gives us something to do without having to sit down face to face.

“I have to grab something from my truck. I’ll meet you back there.”

As I’m standing in the middle of the patch of unremarkable grass in my unremarkable backyard, Chris comes around the corner carrying a small white box in his hand. As he gets closer, he holds it toward me. “This is for you.”

“For me?” I take the box and pull the white string tying the lid down. When it comes loose, the lid pops open to reveal the most beautiful pink iced cupcake.

“Happy Birthday. This is my way of saying sorry.”

It’s then that I realize my mouth is hanging open. “Why?”

“Because I felt bad.”

I’m totally confused by his gesture, especially since he’s hot for Jacinta. And then I realize that maybe this is a ploy to get closer to her. Butter up the friend with buttery confections. “Thanks,” I say a little dryly. “That’s so nice, and totally unexpected.”

“Don’t mention it. Hope you like chocolate cake instead of vanilla.”

Um, duh? What girl doesn’t? I run in and put the cupcake in the fridge before rejoining him. He stays quiet as we wander through the expansive lawn. There are no trees, no shrubs, nothing. Mom and I haven’t gotten around to doing anything back here. We meant to, even kicking around the idea of putting in a pool, and then she got cancer which put everything in our lives on hold. I’ve gotten so used to seeing nothing but grass back here that I’m having a hard time visualizing the outcome of this project. Besides, I’m more of an auditory learner than a visual one. Sometimes I’ll close my eyes and listen to a space, totally sink into it. Chris seems way more visual than me, which is probably why he’s the landscaper and I’m not.

As he walks, he describes the plans, really creating a stunning masterpiece that I can easily envision. His voice is deep and direct and I’m hanging off every confident word. What is it about him in this role? I’ve heard the rumors about Chris Loman, but for some reason, it's as if all those people were talking about someone else. The guy in front of me is polite, friendly, and nothing like what I’ve heard. I’m too afraid to ask if he has a criminal record. I mean he is working for us now. Am I allowed to ask something like that? Probably not a good icebreaker. Hey, are you a criminal? Besides, who am I to judge? That’s just not me. I base my likes and dislikes on personality, not reputation. This is probably a good thing for Chris since based on what I’ve heard, I’d have written him off long ago. I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt and so far I’m impressed.

“You’ll start Monday?” I ask. Sunlight catches his eyes revealing pale blue-green with flicks of gold near the center. I have to force myself to stop staring.

“That’s the plan. The machinery is already on a flatbed to be driven over. We’ll have to remove part of the old fence dividing your driveway from the backyard so we can get all that heavy machinery back here, but we’ll replace it good as new.”

“That should be fine,” I say, sounding all proper. Chris must think I’m the most boring girl on the planet. No wonder he likes vivacious Jacinta. Dating over-the-top Donna Dividi to dating someone as mild as me wouldn’t make sense.

“My crew and I like to start with the sun. Is seven-thirty too early?”

I imagine our neighbors throwing rocks through our windows and cursing at us when we get our mail. “Have you had any complaints about making noise that early?”

“Only a couple, but we sweet-talk them into submission.”

Submission, huh? I can see that happening, especially when he pulls out that killer smile. I ignore my lusty thoughts about his mouth and how I’d like to kiss it, reminding myself that this is business and don’t you forget it!

“Besides, when they see the final results and how much it increases their property value too, the complaints turn to praise.”

He’s so cocky, yet he pulls it off somehow. “Seven-thirty or eight is fine, bright and early.”

“Thanks.”

I hesitate. “That’s it then? Do you have any questions for me?”

Chris smiles. “What kind of questions?”

Why do I get the impression he’s having fun at my expense. “Questions about the landscaping project, why?”

“Oh, nothing. I thought you wanted to ask me something personal about my wonderful friend Simon.”

“Can we put that behind us once and for all?” I laugh.

“Deal.” Chris reaches out a hand and I can’t believe my luck. Skin on skin contact is about to happen. Stay calm, stay calm…I place my hand in his and shake it firmly, showing him I’m assertive when I need to be. As he squeezes back, I feel the rough calluses from endless digging and something else; his hand feels strong and capable and warm. Letting go, the spark I felt on contact stays with me as we wander back toward the driveway.

“I can see myself out,” Chris says, unlatching the gate. “I look forward to working with you, Jacinta.” He winks just as his last word registers, rushing at me at warp speed. Jacinta? He thinks I’m Jacinta…so that means…

“Wait, pardon?”

Chris turns back with a look of confusion.

“What did you just call me?”

“Jacinta, why?”

“My name is Miriam.”