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This is going to be a long drive.
* * *
“Took you long enough,” are the first words Marianne says as we get out of the truck.
“We ran into some traffic,” I explain, shutting the driver-side door and moving to unload the truck with Derek.
“Sure.” Marianne stands with her hands on her hips, eyes narrowed and staring down her nose at me. Which is a feat in itself since I’m still a good five inches taller than her. Her intimidating pose shifts to a welcoming stance when she faces Aly, however.
“Aly, right?” Marianne’s voice is completely changed. I’ve never heard the woman sound so sweet in her life. If I wasn’t seeing her talk myself, I’d assume she was an entirely different person. She hauls Aly away from the truck and toward her by the arm. “Let the men take care of all that. I’m glad to finally meet you.”
Aly delivers one of her sheepish half-smiles. The tremors in her voice give her away. “Me too. I’ve heard a lot about you. Prof- Zach thinks there’s a lot I can learn from you and how you run your organization.”
I wince and set down one of the plants in the area Derek has directed me to place it. We’re not even here a minute, and already Aly’s having trouble calling me by my first name.
“So nice to hear he says such complimentary things about me to others,” Marianne says, casting a look over her shoulder at me. “Since all I ever hear is, ‘this isn’t going to work,’ or ‘how do you expect to make this happen?’ Men, am I right? No vision, whatsoever.”
I lift a package of soil over my shoulder. The conversation is innocent enough, but I don’t trust Marianne with any woman I bring around. She always has some comments to make, whether they’re too shallow, too vapid or just too wrong in general. Aly is none of those things. She’s not even my date really. So, Marianne should have no reason to interrogate her mercilessly.
I set down the soil and take a sip from my water bottle.
“So, Aly, how old are you? Nineteen? Eighteen?”
I choke on a swallow of water. Marianne shoots another silencing glare over her shoulder. As if I can help stifle the sound of me choking in an instant.
“I’m twenty-one, actually,” Aly replies, paying no attention to me that I can tell.
“Ooo, girl. So wecanenjoy a nice bottle of wine after all of this is over.” Marianne waits for Aly to turn away before signaling my imminent death with another scowl and some very graphic hand gestures.
So, there’s a slight age gap. Not that it matters. It’s not like I expect anything to happen between us. Not now, at least. Aly only has one semester left before she graduates, and there would be no issue with us dating after that. All I know is, no matter how much distance I try to place between us, it just makes me want to be near her even more.
This emotional revelation doesn’t spare me from the onslaught of questions Marianne hurls at me throughout the day. No matter how much I try to convince Marianne that Aly is just my student, she isn’t so easily convinced.
What are my intentions? Do I actually plan on dating my student? This isn’t something I should be doing, or even contemplating. Is it?
I step outside for the first time in hours since we started the maintenance work. We’ve finally finished with the inside maintenance. Derek says something about coming back in the morning to finish the painting outside. I nod absently. I’m so tired, I’ll agree to anything at this point.
The plants along the edge of the house complement one another perfectly. Each one uniformly separated and manicured to suit the available spacing adds a warm, cottage-like feel to the home's exterior. I follow the length of the home to the backyard, stopping near the porch within an excellent view to see Aly and Miles planting vegetables in a raised bed. Their backs are to me, and neither one hears me approach.
“So you sprinkle a little water here,” Aly says. “Then we need to add a little humus in the soil to make them grow better.
“You mean hummus? Like what we eat? How is that gonna help?” Miles asks.
Aly laughs, a musical tune that vibrates down into my core. “No, humus. It’s something you put in the soil to retain the nutrients it needs to survive.”
“Ah.” Miles tips his head back in that way that shows he really only understands about half of what she’s saying.
“So, how long have you played soccer, Miles?” Aly asks.
Miles shrugs. “Since I came to live with Derek and Marianne. Derek and Uncle Zach took me out to play one day, and they said I had a natural talent. So you know, I’ve been going since then.”
“Do you still go play with them?” Aly sprinkles something over the garden. I continue watching them, mesmerized by how easily they seem to fall into sync with one another.
“Yeah. They both play with me. Derek’s not too good, so Uncle Zach usually helps me practice.”
“That’s very sweet of him.”
That’s me. Sweet and loveable, eavesdropping on the conversation of the woman I want and a child I’m suddenly jealous of. The kid has had her attention all day. They’ve worked side-by-side on the projects, from what I can see. Some women might get bored babysitting a child all day. The women I’ve dated in the past certainly would have. Hell, they wouldn’t have even dipped their fingers in the flower bed or volunteered to come here in the first place.
