Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Charlie
I’m absolutely dreading meeting Finn 2.0 tonight. I don’t even know what this guy looks like or how old he is.
Maybe tonight is the night I end up on an episode of Dateline .
If I die tonight and end up wherever souls go to rest, my parents are going to be pissed. I’ll be in deep shit with them in the afterlife.
Plus, who is going to look after my siblings?
My older brother, Jack, is a reserved guy with a heart of gold. He has full custody of his daughter, Lucy, ever since his ex-wife left him a few years ago for another guy. After his ex-wife cheated on him, I went online and bought one thousand live maggots and had them delivered to her lover’s apartment that she was occupying. I planned to deliver five hundred maggots, but shipping was free for orders over twenty-five dollars.
I’m never one to pass up free shipping.
Joey, my younger sister, is a modern day flower child who travels around in a VW van and is only home a few times a month. Needless to say, we are an eclectic group and my parents had a great time raising us.
I’m huddled in A New Leaf’s backroom prepping a few propagation plants in test tubes when I hear an unmistakable deep voice.
“Hey, Char!”
Speak of the devil. It’s as if my brother knows I was thinking about him.
Dropping my plant shears, I stroll out to the front.
“What?” I sigh, completely exasperated. My hands make their way to my hips as I stare at my brother with mock annoyance.
He runs a hand through his disheveled, wavy, brown hair, laughing. “Is that how you greet all your customers? You say, ‘What?’ when they walk in? Not even a full sentence?”
My eyes narrow. “You’re right, that was rude of me. I meant to say, What do you want? ” I tilt my head to the side, raising my eyebrows at him.
Jack shakes his head, still laughing. Mimicking my stance, he places his hands on his hips and exhales. “I wanted to discuss a few ideas about the house.” My heart aches all over again.
Jack took it upon himself to renovate our parent’s home. Luckily, he works in construction and is familiar with home renovations.
My brother looks around the shop, taking everything in. “You’ve done real good with the place, Char. I know it wasn’t easy for you since you didn’t know the first thing about running a business, but it looks great.”
“I still don’t know the first thing about running a business. Or plants,” I mumble.
“Well, you’re good with the plants, even if you have to Google everything. With people, though? You leave a lot to be desired.” He jokingly winces.
I roll my eyes. “I’m pleasant enough to get by, and that’s all that matters.”
He raises his hands in surrender. “Hey, whatever helps you sleep at night.”
Stepping around Jack, I head to the front of the store and flip the sign to “Closed,” and I pull out my phone to video call Joey so we can all have input on the design choices for the home. When my parents passed, we all agreed to keep their house in the family because those walls hold too many good memories.
Joey’s bright face pops up on the screen, the sun shining on her auburn hair. “Hey, orphans!”
Jack and I both let out a deep sigh, dropping our heads as laughter from our sister fills the space.
Leave it to Joey to make dead parent jokes.
“Hey, Joey.” I lean in closer to the phone screen, squinting my eyes. “What part of the country are you in, by the way?” Judging by her surroundings in the background, she is definitely not in Oregon anymore.
“Eh. Maybe in Arizona. Maybe in New Mexico. Who can say?” she replies, glancing around as the wind tosses her auburn hair in every direction.
“Christ. If you need bail money, call your sister,” Jack murmurs.
My head rears back, my eyes snapping in his direction. “No fucking way. You’re in charge of bailing her out.”
“I love when you two fight over me,” Joey quips. “It makes me feel loved.”
A couple of hours later, we’ve exhausted ourselves with home renovation choices and Jack packs up the blueprints and material swatches he brought. Before he reaches the door, I call out to him. “Wait! Before you go, I have a question.”
Jack turns to me, eyebrows pinched together in confusion.
“I like your red and black flannel. Has anyone told you recently that you’re a walking, talking, lumberjack cliché? Where’s your emotional support ax?” I roll my lips, fighting off a smile.
He narrows his dark brown eyes at me as he tries not to smirk.
I’m waiting for him to give me a comeback that’ll equally hurt my feelings and make me laugh.
Jack looks me dead in the eye, a serious expression matching his tone. “I didn’t want to tell you this news like this, but you’ve left me no choice. I have proof that a pack of weasels raised you . . .” Jack dramatically shakes his head, pretending to get choked up. “Which explains so many things about your prickly personality, distaste for human interaction, and”—he looks me up and down, grimacing—“your stubby limbs. Must’ve inherited that from your ancestors.” He winks, then walks out the door laughing to himself. I flip the sign back to “Open” and begin checking the moisture levels of the plants.
A few moments after Jack leaves, Marnie comes blazing in. Tiny specks of paint dot her face and hands, meaning she just came from the community center where she was most likely prepping for her next art class.
A mischievous grin takes over her face. Usually, I love them. Today I don’t because it’s directed at me. “Today’s the day, Gremlin! Want me to dress up in a disguise when you meet this new Finn? I’ll sit in the back and?—”
I interrupt her before she continues. “Marnie, no. I don’t need you there.” If you don’t interrupt this woman at some point during her absurd monologues, she won’t stop.
She huffs. “What if you get kidnapped?”
“No one, and I mean no one, wants to kidnap this.” I make a motion, gesturing to the entirety of my body. “Plus, I’ll have a knife on me.”
She nods, a smile spreading across her face as she points her finger at me. “And there it is. Never mess with the Gremlin when she has a pocket knife.”
We turn our heads at the sounds of an unimpressed groan from my dog interrupting our conversation.
I glance at Marnie. “I know you just got here, but could you watch the shop while I take Vera out? She’s making her old lady noises again.”
“She really is a grumbly old lady, isn’t she? Must take after her sister,” Marnie snickers, sending a wink my way. Before I can reply, she puts her hand up to stop me. “Don’t say it. I know, I’m fired. Have a nice walk with Vera! Make sure you both bark at anyone who tries to come near you.”
Choosing to ignore her, I clip on Vera’s harness, put a hat on my head, and step outside. The cool, misting rain surrounds us while the gray skies above block out any sun as we begin our walk. There’s a small, quiet park around the corner from my shop that Vera and I visit often to get away from the chaos of Main Street.
As my boots hit the wet pavement, I think about tonight. I don’t enjoy meeting new people, especially in a one-on-one setting—the mere thought of it makes my chest constrict. I can admit that my people skills need some fine tuning. Yet, here I am, forcing customer service smiles every day from open until close.
Vera and I make it to the small park, bypassing the sign that says, “Keep Dogs on Leash,” which I always ignore. I unclip her leash and wander over to the bench to keep a close eye on her. Looking up at the sky, I notice the clouds have become darker, making it seem much later in the day than it is. When my eyes land back on the park, I see Vera rolling in the park’s only muddy spot.
I take my eyes off of her for five seconds and now my golden retriever isn’t golden anymore.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I mutter. “Vera, no!” I yell.
She doesn’t listen to me.
Since I’m new to this whole dog ownership thing, I’ve discovered there are two types of golden retrievers in the world. The first type are the smart and easily trainable ones who listen. Then you have ones, like Vera, where the lights are on, but nobody’s home.
When I march over to Vera, something bumps into my legs, causing me to slip and fall on a patch of wet grass with a sloshing thud.
“FRANK, NO!” someone bellows.
I hear heavy, wet footsteps come up behind me.
Just my luck.
It’s Frank and Frank’s hot owner who has a perfect view of my muddy dog and soon to be muddy ass.
“Shit, are you okay? I’m so sorry. Frank is blind and doesn’t know any better.” He crouches down next to me, and I turn my head away from him, hoping he doesn’t recognize me. “Wait, Charlie?”
I’m still on the ground, not moving a single muscle. I’m a dead fish in this park. My fear and embarrassment have frozen me and I’ve lost all ability to move.
Finn puts a large hand on my shoulder, attempting to get my attention. “Hey, are you okay? Are you hurt? You’re not moving. Can I help you up?” The man’s so close to me now that I can smell his cologne—slightly woodsy, with a hint of coffee and a touch of lavender.
My intrusive thoughts tell me to bury my nose in his neck like a drug-sniffing dog, but I resist.
Closing my eyes, I swallow my embarrassment. “Hi! Yes, I’m fine. A little disoriented, but totally fine.” When I try to stand up, my body betrays me and I fall again.
Seriously. At this point, someone please put me out of my misery.
“Whoa, whoa. Easy there. Here, let me help.” Finn’s deep voice rumbles into my ear and it annoyingly gives me goosebumps.
I’m abundantly aware of his close proximity, with his minty breath ghosting over my cheek as he speaks. Finn ever so gently grasps my upper arm to help steady me. For a tall, lithe man, he handles my clumsy, sturdy body with ease. Swallowing, my eyes swiftly shift upward to look at him. He’s watching my body so intently, making sure that I don’t fall for a third time.
Once I’m safely upright, I straighten my coat and my hat. “Well, that was embarrassing,” I say casually, giving a small shrug.
My external demeanor says I’m too cool to be embarrassed, but my internal demeanor is screaming to leave Vera to fend for herself so I can run far away. He quietly laughs, a deep throaty chuckle that could liquify my insides if I allowed it to.
“Yeah, you took quite the tumble, twice. I’m sorry about Frank for the first fall, and I’m sorry about your unsteady coordination for the second fall.” An amused smile crosses his face as he looks down at me.
Scoffing at him, I attempt to wipe the dirt off my ass and look over my shoulder to see if my clothes have mud on them, but my neck only bends so far and I’m clearly struggling. I can sense Finn’s eyes glued to me and it’s making me feel warm all over. When I turn to look back at him, a smirk plays on his lips as he cocks an eyebrow, his amusement clear in the crinkles around his eyes.
He clears his throat. “Do you want me to check for any dirt on your back?
I stare at him with a blank expression and blink. I want to say something sarcastic, but he did just help me up.
“Yes, please.” Before I turn around, I stare right into his dark sapphire eyes. “You touch my ass and I’ll cut you.” I poke a scolding finger at him.
He bellows out a laugh and simply nods. “Noted.”
I turn around and can feel the heat of his large hands wipe my upper back through my three layers of clothes. My pulse picks up at his touch, even though it’s utterly harmless.
His hands inch lower and lower, right above my belt line. I clear my throat. “You’re teetering on forbidden territory, big guy.”
He laughs again, making my stomach flip. It’s the kind of laugh that gives you a sense of accomplishment.
“You know, for someone so quiet, you sure have a little spark in you,” he says.
I smile at that because that’s what my parents always used to tell me. Charlie’s a little quiet but has a fire inside that just needs some stoking to get her aflame. My smile widens even more at the memory.
“I’ve been told that before. It’s a character flaw.” As I turn around to face him, I’m met with a hard to read expression. “What’s that look for?”
“Nothing. I don’t think it’s a character flaw. More like a character strength, if you ask me.” He gives me that charming, boyish smile that makes me forget everything.
Flustered, I anxiously shove my hands in my coat pockets, unsure how to respond to him. His gaze on me is intense, which quickens my pulse. It’s as if he’s trying to decipher my thoughts by looking deep into my eyes. Strangely enough, this would make me uncomfortable, but with Finn, it feels different.
When I say nothing, he clears his throat and whistles for Frank. “Uh, sorry about Frank. Again. He seems to have taken a strong liking to Vera.”
We both look over at the dogs, who are frolicking in the disgustingly damp grass, only getting wetter and muddier.
Upon a closer look, I notice Frank has something in his mouth.
“Does Frank have a baguette in his mouth?” I ask, my eyes on both dogs.
“About that, Frank has a tendency to steal anything and everything he can get his paws on. Because he thinks no one can see him, he believes he can get away with it.”
I look up at him, noticing he looks a touch embarrassed as he pushes his glasses up on his nose.
“That being said, Frank is indeed carrying a baguette that he stole from the corner market.”
He has a kleptomaniac dog.
This poor dog is blind and steals.
An unladylike snort slips out of me as I giggle. “What else has he stolen?”
Finn blows out a breath. “Well, socks are his favorite, which is why mine are always mismatched.” He pulls up his pant legs to show me his mismatched green and blue socks. “Aside from socks and food, he’s stolen phones, wallets, and a few pairs of underwear. Oh! And one time he stole a rat.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Yeah, back in New York. One night I took Frank out, and I wasn’t paying attention because I got home at midnight from work. Didn’t find out until the next morning when the rat was on my counter eating cereal.” He chuckles, running his hands through his now wet hair. It’s started raining heavier since we began talking.
“Wow.” I shake my head in disbelief.
Glancing away to look at our muddy dogs, I say something I’d never thought would escape my antisocial lips. “I’d love to hear you tell me more stories about Frank’s kleptomania sometime.”