5. Chapter 5
Chapter five
Ozzy
It wasn’t often that Ozzy had occasion to use a propane weed burner, but it was always way more fun in his head than it was in practice. He always forgot the annoyance of hauling around the propane tank, the blowback from the ash filling his nose and eyes, and the heat. Somehow, the heat of the fire always escaped his memory. The main thing about fire.
But after he jumped so hard on the chance to be the one to use it to clear out the sea of tumbleweeds, he wasn’t going to bitch out and pass it off to someone else. So even as he was pretty sure he lost part of his eyebrows, he kept on. And in his defense, he had been right when he told Eliza this was the solution. They had to devote three of the contracting crew to stand on safety duty, two armed with hoses and one with a fire extinguisher, and they’d already soaked down the fences and the bare spots on the ground from raking up the weeds, but the fire made quick work, snaking through the skeletal jumble.
Still, after almost two hours, Ozzy was ready for an actual break. Which wasn’t normal for him at all. He sat in one of the neglected Adirondack chairs on the back patio and took in the state of the yard around him. Without the tumbleweeds…it still looked bad. Really bad. The char and ash didn’t help, but even taking that aside, there was so little grass, now also largely blackened, and so many swaths of exposed soil, it looked like an abandoned property. It still got under Ozzy’s skin. It got away from them or whatever their excuse was. They could have taken care of this.
He sucked in a harsh breath, then pushed himself to his feet. There was no point in getting annoyed about it. Even though, after helping Quinn out of a bad house situation with the first job—his grandfather had been a hoarder and left the property in a state of disrepair—this felt like a waste of their efforts. But if he kept up that line of thinking, it would impact the work. He didn’t want this to impact his reputation or his results. Moving around and doing something, even if he was tired and it was stupid busy work, would help distract him.
He headed for the outbuilding where the crew was working on the basics. They’d gotten a box truck and pulled it as close to the side gate as they could manage. With Melanie’s direction, they lugged boxes and totes out of the house-to-be. Most of them went to the truck, but she seemed to have at least some idea what was in all of them, since she directed a few of them toward the house without actually opening anything up.
“Oswald.”
Ozzy’s back tightened at the voice and the name. Only one person called him by his full name. Even his parents shortened it up, and they, frankly, sucked. Not Evander, though. He insisted , even when they were dating. And I didn’t see that as a red flag . When they’d be in the on-again parts of their on-again, off-again relationship, it had been cute and charming in a way. A fun bit of needling.
He turned and saw Evander standing in the sliding glass doorway of the outbuilding. He smiled tightly. Ozzy knew that expression. He wanted something. But of course he did. He didn’t tend to single Ozzy out anymore if he didn’t want something.
But they were on a job and on camera. He wasn’t going to completely ignore his fellow host, even as the urge to walk away washed over him. “Evander. Can I help you?”
He walked over, hands held up in front of his chest. “Don’t be mad. I just want to have this conversation now instead of a big fight about it later. I know how territorial you can get on the job site.”
“And I know how vague and annoying you can get when you’re trying to be supplicating. Considering how much you harp on about honesty, seems like you don’t want to spit out what it is you want to say.”
“It’s not dishonest to engage in some diplomacy.”
Ozzy snorted. “I pretty distinctly remember you refusing diplomacy when I asked you not to stir shit up with my parents.” And on several other occasions.
“Your parents are rich assholes and they suck gnarly old balls. If they didn’t want to be snarked at, they shouldn’t have made themselves such ample targets. Also, you got drunk and told me it was brilliant one night.”
He had. Because it was. It was horrifying, having Evander lay out to them why all of their political and socioeconomic policies were kind of evil. But it was all shit Ozzy had told him about in the first place, so he couldn’t very well pretend any of it was off-base. Plus, it limited the amount of times he had to go for dinner parties with his parents, at least while he and Evander were in an on-again stage. Cut down on a lot of awkward conversations and offers to hook him up with some woman they thought was more appropriate for him.
Evander sighed and shook his head. “Fine. I’ll be direct.” He spread his arms out to the sides. “The patio space they have here. It makes sense for this to be part of my purview on this job. They’re going to have so little space—”
“No.”
Ozzy walked away, but a hand landed on his shoulder. He turned and Evander frowned, eyes bright. “Oswald, you’re being ridiculous.”
“If you can tell me how to set up proper drainage and make sure the lighting and electrical are all safe, and how to do outdoor plumbing, and what kind of plants to put in—”
“Oh, cut the bullshit. We’re part of a team . We don’t all know everything. That’s why we don’t each have our own show.”
“I do landscaping. This is part of the landscaping.”
“Yeah. And one of the only things we know for sure is that the dad likes gardening and caring for plants and shit. Oh, and that the mom wants an entertaining space.” He spread his arms again. “It makes sense for me to take the lead on this so it’s usable.”
Ozzy scoffed. “Right. I don’t know how to make a usable outdoor space. By the way, how’s that gazebo I built for you?”
“That you built.” Evander’s face darkened a little as the blood rushed up and he balled his fists. “I couldn’t get out of bed for two days because I was hauling lumber for your little pet project—”
“Well if you don’t appreciate it, I can come light it the fuck on fire!” Ozzy’s voice carried and he cringed as many pairs of eyes landed on him. Including Melanie’s. He didn’t need to be the focal point of another fight. “We can talk about this later. Good luck changing my mind away from objective reality, though.”
He strode off to grab some boxes before Evander could keep the conversation going. But like hell he was going to let Evander swoop in and take over the biggest, most important part of the backyard. They had their own territory marked out, and that was plainly in Ozzy’s wheelhouse.