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Abigail smiled. "I'm getting married in two months to the man of my dreams, Birdie got an A on her pre-algebra test, and I'm booked for the next three weeks."
"So shitty, too, huh?" he drawled.
Abigail rolled eyes that matched their mother's. "I'd ask why you were such a grumpy goose, but I'm afraid of the answer."
Jake shrugged and took the bucket, eyeing the boards inside. "Let me run these through and it will tell us if any of the flooring is worth saving."
"I'll rip out the others," Abigail said, walking back to the dilapidated cabin. "Hey, Margaret Stein told Hilda she thought it was terrible that I wanted to capitalize on these cabins. She said it was insensitive and myopic. Do you think that's true?"
Jake looked at the run-down cabins. "I never thought about it."
"I never thought about it, either, but then I did and I kept thinking about how families lived here and even though their lives were horrifying, they mattered. These cabins were the only places they could escape to... maybe I should tear them down and not worry with it."
Jake pursed his lips."Why don't you restore this one and think about it. Either way, you're turning this one into something that will teach folks about the lives of the people who lived here, including the artists who lived here.”
Abigail set her hands on her hips and looked down the string of four cabins. "Yeah. We'll start with this one."
For the next three hours, Jake worked beside his sister, running the wide boards through the planer and pulling up sections that would have to be replaced. Abigail was a tough taskmaster, which meant Jake earned every bit of the money she'd insist he take. He'd offered to do it free of charge-what are brothers for-but Abigail was as stubborn as she was pretty. He always went home with a check from Laurel Woods.
Finally, Abigail called a halt. "Whew, I think this is enough for today. We'll load these boards and store them in the old garage. Don't want rain to get to them since they turned out so nicely. Guess you never know what is lurking beneath the weathering, huh?" She ran her hand over the ones that had been replaned. They looked incredibly different after the gray weathering was stripped off to reveal the beautiful grain beneath.·
"That should be a lesson about people... except for Aunt Opal. I've seen beneath her 'weathering.' She's still as mean as an old tom," Jake said.
Abigail laughed. Hey, I heard from the check out girl at Maggio's that you and Clint had a run-in over Eva. Any truth to that?" She cocked an eye brow and removed the bandanna. Her dark hair with the iconic stripe of silver fell around her face, making her softer.
"Eh, sorta. It's no big deal.”
"Maybe not the words you exchanged with Clint, but that it was over Eva? That was news to me."
Jake didn't want to talk about Eva. In fact he'd rather talk about Hitler and the devil than the woman who had tied him into knots. "I don't want to rehash. It's old news."
"Oh?" Abigail said, tucking the bandanna into her back pocket. "Just thought you might want to talk to someone who had perspective into something like this."
He snatched the hook she dropped. "Like what?"
"I'm a woman," she said, pointing to herself.
"I know. You have boobs and wiggle when you walk. I figured that out a long time ago."
"Be a smart-ass."
Jake grinned and that felt good. He wasn't totally dead from tossing away the chance he'd been given with Eva. Same old Jake. Smile and crack jokes. "I'm good at that."
"Especially the ass part," Abigail grumbled. "It's just I noticed something different between y'all, and I thought that it was a very good thing. I always thought Eva would be good for you. And you for her. Like balancing the scales."
Jake started stacking the boards on the trailer hooked to the ATV his sister had bought to navigate the large property. "Nah, Eva and I are friends. It's better that way."
"Oh, the old friends thing. Been there and tried that. Doesn't always work when you've knocked boots. Wait, have you and Eva..?"
''None of your business, sis. But Eva has always been my friend. This little blip of what could be was bound to happen. We're two young, decently attractive single people in a two-horse town."
"So why was Clint in your business?" Abigail put her hand on the board he lifted, stilling him. "He doesn't always have your best interests at heart, you know. Clint's not a bad guy. I've always liked him, but he's nursed something for too long."
Jake sighed. Abigail was the person in the family who didn't let go. She would mow you down, sit on you until you cried uncle, and arm wrestle you into submission. She pretended to be casual and nonchalant but then before you knew it, you were strapped to a board, a bright light in your face, and water dripping a constant beat on your forehead. "I know who Clint is, but his words weren't selfish. He merely reminded me who I am and how that would ultimately hurt Eva."
"Who you are?"
"Look, Matt essentially said the same thing. My track record with relationships ain't great, and I don't want to hurt Eva. Better to nip whatever it is we have going on in the bud," Jake said.
