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Chapter Four
Lauren
How after all these years does he still know how to push my buttons?
He knows I love Tim Tams and for the past fourteen years, I’ve been getting by on the American knock-offs, but they just aren’t the same.
I could always sneak over to his cottage while he’s in the shower and snatch some. I’m sure he wouldn’t miss them, and then I wouldn’t have to deal with begging him for a package. There’s no way he’d hand them over willingly, and I’d then be forced to deal with his incessant teasing.
I can be stealth-like when I want to. And it wouldn’t be like I was breaking and entering since I actually own the cottage. But if he catches me…
No cookie is worth subjecting myself to Jack and his obnoxiousness, but I do contemplate sending Oscar over there to con Jack out of a few.
I finish the last swig of my beer as I walk in the house. Oscar and Olivia are working on building this epic Lego rendering of my house and the cottage next door; something they’ve been working on for a solid two weeks since they started their summer break. I remember how much it sucked being trapped here as a kid, but they actually seem to like it. Oscar even more so now that Jack is here.
The kids have spent the past few nights with me, but with their dad returning from his business trip, I imagine Ellen will want to take them home.
“Aunt Lauren, why’s he call you Lulu?” Oscar asks when I step through the door, a confused look on his face.
“I don’t know,” I reply, annoyed that my nickname has now traveled beyond Jack’s lips.
“Can I call you Lulu?”
“No and stay away from Jack. He’s… yucky.” I stand with my hands on my hips looking down at Oscar who’s smiling up at me with a silly grin on his face. By telling him no, I’ve just solidified that he will call me Lulu for the rest of his life. And Jack will now be his new best friend.
“Whatever you say, Aunt Lulu,” he chides back, shrugging his shoulders and going back to adding the multi-colored chimney to the house.
“I think we should all call you Lulu,” Ellen shouts from the back of my house, letting out a belly laugh that makes me want to pull my hair out.
Why are they all turning on me?He’s notthatcharming.
“Get Tommy to empty some of your compost out when he comes in tomorrow,” Ellen says, walking in through my mudroom with a bowl. “You barely have any room in that thing.”
She’s just finishing up making dinner that looks to be spaghetti and salad, and as annoying and motherly as she can be sometimes, it’s been nice having her here. Most of the time I eat alone, but it doesn’t bother me too much.
“Got it, Mom,” I reply back, giving her an exaggerated eye roll.
One of the perks of living on so much land is that I have plenty of room for a garden and I always have compost. Between the vines, the grapes, the cut grass and my own food waste; it’s kind of never-ending.
“So, does he think he can fix it?” Ellen asks as she signals for the kids to come and sit down for dinner. She’s dishing out spaghetti while I pour us each a glass of wine.
“He does, but we have to clean the entire machine out.”
“Well, that sucks. We’re gonna lose all the grapes in there. That’s at least a dozen bottles of wine.”
She’s preaching to the choir here. I know this already and I’m just as pissed off at myself for continuing to use the damn machine when I knew it wasn’t working properly. Something Jack didn’t have an issue pointing out to me.
“How long does he think it’ll take to clean it out and get the repair done?”
“Not sure. He didn’t say.”
“And you didn’t think to ask?” Ellen responds, her tone teasing, because she then says, “Too busy flirting to do your job?”
I don’t even dignify that with a response. I just begin shoveling my salad into my mouth.
“What’s flirting?” Olivia asks, and I shoot a dirty look at Ellen. She damn well knows these kids are listening to everything we say and now one of us has to explain it to Olivia because she won’t be satisfied with a half-assed answer.
“It’s when two people who like each other…”
