Page 19 of Fish Out of Water

“Every single day?”

“Yup. Unless it’s stormy or I have a previous engagement.”

“So I can’t just come find you at the bookstore or wherever and have you sign off on my hours?”

“It would hardly be worth it. We can try to avoid each other, Jake, but I’m not changing my schedule because of you. Now, did you bring a garbage bag and a poker?”

“A garbage bag and a what?”

Robbie cocked his head to the side, the light in his eyes dying out as disappointment clouded his expression. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You need something to put the trash in, Jake.”

“Well, how was I supposed to know that? It’s not like I got instructions before coming here.”

“Did you read the papers you got? Because all that’s spelled out pretty clearly.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,oh.” Robbie huffed. “Here, come with me. I have some extra bags and a pair of gloves that should fit you well enough. Those’ll have to do for today. I certainly don’t envy your back, though, having to bend over and pick up trash by hand.”

He led Jake over to a large piece of driftwood, where he’d tucked his supplies while he was enjoying the sunrise. He held out a white garbage bag, not even bothering to look at Jake as he snatched it from him and balled it up. He handed over a pair of gloves next. They were a mix of stretchy fabric and soft tan leather, hardly used compared to the other dingier set that Robbie had left on the log.

“Bring your own gloves next time,” he said. “These are my spares that I keep for emergencies. And get some sort of poker or grabber. I’m not dealing with your complaining every single day because you’re too stubborn to make life easier on yourself.”

“I don’t need you to tell me how to do my job,” Jake said coolly.

“Oh, really? You mean to tell me you’ve done this before?” Robbie looked up, his eyes cold and calculating.

“No, but?—”

“No, I didn’t think you were the volunteering type.”

“I’m not here to volunteer at a place I don’t care about.”

Robbie crossed his arms. “Tell me, then, Jake, whyareyou here? Because you act like you’re miserable, so it can’t possibly be on your own terms.”

“You already know why. My uncle died, and I’m staying to help my Aunt Isabel for a few months now that he’s gone.”

“Why you, though?”

“Because it was easier for me to do this than for anyone else in my family. I do care about people, Robbie, just not coldhearted strangers like you.” He took care to leave out all the other minute details that Robbie certainly didn’t need to hear about.

“And that’s all?” Robbie asked skeptically.

“Well, she needs to sell the house, and if she can’t get it looking decent before that, she’s gonna lose out on a lot of money—my sister’s and my inheritance. You of all people should know about that.”

“There it is.”

“Therewhatis?”

“The real reason. The one that makes you look like a smug asshole who only cares about himself.”

Jake forced a laugh. “You’re one to talk when you’re a whiny little nepo baby.”

Robbie’s shoulders tensed. “I’m grateful for what I’ve been given in life. That’s more than you could ever admit.”

“You don’t know fuck-all about my life.”

“Fair enough. So stop making assumptions aboutmine.”