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The problem was that they weren’t friends. They’d never been friends.
Even as kids, even though the Jewish community was small enough in Campbell that they’d been in adjacent social circles, there’d never been any overlap. To be honest, she could only remember how to spell his last name properly because of the blasted machinery practically in her backyard with that excruciating business logo on it. His business logo. She looked back at his original text message and had a moment of clarity. Her fingers started moving on the phone screen.
“Wait, did you actually want to talk about the situation with the land development?” she hit send before she could stop herself. Not sure why it felt like she was trying to start another argument.
The little gray ellipsis appeared again almost immediately. After a moment he responded.
“I thought that was what you wanted to talk about this afternoon.”
“I did,” she typed back, not bothering to think it through, “but we got distracted.”
They always got distracted, she thought, her mouth twisting wryly.
“That’s fair,” he sent, and she appreciated that he didn’t bother to add an emoji of any kind. If he had included a winky face or worse, an eggplant, she probably would have screamed. But he was still typing, she could see. Eventually, another word bubble popped up that said, “But I don’t want you to think I don’t take your concerns seriously, if you want to talk about it, I’m happy to talk about it.”
Glad to know distracting her with sex so she would shut up about the eyesore in her backyard wasn’t his end game, she wanted to say. She was proud of herself that she didn’t, though. All that would do was start another argument, and, apparently, arguments were some kind of aphrodisiac for her now. Abi took a deep breath and tried to center so that she could form a response that spoke to him like he was a professional. After a moment her fingers started moving again. But this time it wasn’t to type out a text. She was calling him.
* * *
Abi wasn’t sure what she was thinking when she called the guy. But she was sick of dissecting the hidden meaning in his text messages. This was easier, she decided. This was probably safer. You could decipher tone with a phone conversation, and that was next to impossible in text.
“Hey,” Ilan said. If he was surprised that she’d called him, nothing gave it away.
“Hey,” Abi said, feeling awkward and churlish and hoping he wouldn’t notice. Then feeling irritated with herself for caring in the first place.
“So, what were your concerns,” he prompted after a silence that threatened to go on for just a moment too long.
“You mean other than the obvious ones where our quiet neighborhood is shot to hell and suddenly there’s all kinds of noise pollution? Not to mention you’re ruining the habitat for local wildlife and ruining natural resources?”
Ilan laughed, sounding amused, and weirdly, Abi was relieved he was amused and not going defensive because she knew she sounded like an entitled bitch. “First of all, trees are a renewable resource, you realize that right? They do grow back.”
“You’re really going to say that like it just happens, just like that? That takes an awful lot of time and energy when there are perfectly good, mature trees out there already,” she said, incredulous. She’d seen that particular talking point in the materials the land development company provided. It seemed like a crappy point then, and it seemed like a crappy point now.
“There are a lot of trees out there right now, yes, but to say they’re perfectly good is debatable,” Ilan answered back. “My team isn’t just out there because we were bored. We were hired to do a job. We get hired for all kinds of reasons, and, sometimes, we get called in because the trees are actually a problem.”
“They seem perfectly healthy to me—”
“From your backyard, right? Is that your degree in forestry services talking?”
“Were they actually unhealthy?” Abi said because if that was the case, that was a different conversation they could be having.
“Not in the sense that they were sick,” Ilan said after a long moment. “None of the trees we’re cutting down were rotten if that’s what you’re asking. But they do need to be cleared. The area is dense and overgrown, and it can be a safety hazard.”
“But you’re not just cutting back for that,” Abi pointed out, “you’re clearing.”
“Yes,” Ilan said, “that’s what we were hired to do. You know the town is trying to rebrand. The Howard family sold some of their property, and the county is rezoning to add a subdivision. Clearing out the trees is part of that process.``
She knew all of this. He was talking like she hadn’t been to every city council meeting since this was announced. She glared at her phone. He seemed to sense her annoyance from her silence.
“I get why you’re not happy. You had a peaceful little house on a quiet street in a really woody area, and that’s changing. But once we’re done and the builders are out—”
“Then I will no longer have a peaceful little house in a woody area,” Abi said flatly, “and nobody on this road will.”
“True,” he said, then sighed. “You realize that most of your frustration should be directed at the Howard family and the town council, right?”
“They’re not nearly as fun to yell at,” Abi said before she could stop herself.
Ilan had a remarkably rich laugh, she noted. It was deep and full and warm in a way that made her fingers itch to be doing something, but she couldn’t articulate what.
