Chapter 6
Ifill the fridge and the freezer and then stand for a while and watch my work with a small thrill of satisfaction. Am I weird for almost getting a hard-on from a perfectly organized fridge? Yes, probably.
When I’m done with my self-righteousness, I walk through the house.
I study every piece of furniture carefully and try to picture Liz in front of me, living here.
Phoebe, the executor, told me Liz had been living here alone for the past eight years since Matthew died.
She worked as a nurse at a retirement home.
Her home is nothing fancy, but I must admit it’s kind of homey.
I sit on the beige linen couch covered in colorful pillows and look around the small living room space. It feels strange and wrong being here instead of home in New York.
Several times a day, I find myself looking for my laptop or trying to check my email, like on reflex. And every time that happens, I’m also reminded of why I can’t anymore, and embarrassment washes over me—along with an awful and suffocating feeling of failure. Just like now.
Quickly, I stand and start unpacking my bags instead.
I hang my clothes in the closet next to Liz’s and fold them in the empty dresser.
And I place all my beauty products neatly in the bathroom.
When I’m done, I make the bed, and just when I think I’m ready to uncork that bottle of wine and forget about this day and the rest of my life, I remember the cactus.
It was important I picked it up today, and I promised I would.
I brush out a breath. Okay, so the forgetting has to wait a little bit longer. But as soon as it’s done, it will be me, the wine, the bathtub, and The Office. The perfect night. Well, as perfect as it can be. I’m still banned from work and in a small town in the middle of nowhere.
I hate my life.
The man who has my cactus is named Benjamin Reyes and lives in what actually is the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen. It’s right next to the sea. Where his property ends, the ground drops down to the seagrass-lined beach. It really is breathtaking.
I stand for a while enchanted by the look of the ocean. By the big waves rolling in and the soothing sound of it. It’s a view I had almost forgotten existed. So different from New York.
But then I remember what I’m here for and make it through the small gate. I look around as I follow the gravel path leading to the porch. It’s a simple yard. No flowers, just a newly cut lawn. Maybe you don’t need flowers when you have such a stunning view right in front of you.
When I climb the two steps up the porch, I can’t help but think that if I lived here, I would spend every night on this porch.
It doesn’t have a porch swing, but it would if this were my house.
My home. I would sit out here, rock a little, maybe read a book.
But above all, I would listen, smell, and watch the ocean.
I take a deep breath before I ring the doorbell. I hope this won’t get awkward—he probably knows I’ll come by and pick up my cactus. Still so weird, though.
It takes a little while before I hear someone’s steps on the other side of the door, and when the door finally opens, I can’t believe my eyes.
“Oh, you gotta be kidding me.” I stare at the tall man in front of me.
“So, you are stalking me,” he says and leans against the door frame with his arms crossed. He’s still dressed in the same jeans and T-shirt as the last time I saw him, just a couple of hours ago.
I level him a look. “Trust me, if I were to stalk someone, it wouldn’t be you.”
Is his mouth twitching a little?
“Then what are you doing on my porch?” His voice is deep with a hint of curiosity.
“I’m here to pick up my cactus.”
“Your cactus?” He sounds surprised.
I inhale deeply. “Yeah, you know, a plant?”
He narrows his eyes. “You’re here to pick up a cactus?”
The fact that he makes me sound weird irritates me. I know this is weird, believe me. “Yes. Or Liz Evans’s cactus. I’m her goddaughter, and I’ve been told to pick up her—my—cactus here. Are you not Benjamin Reyes?” I look around for a name sign or something but can’t find any.
He tilts his head, studying me more thoroughly all of a sudden. “I am.” He nods slowly.
“Okay, great. If you can get me my cactus, I’ll be out of here.” I emphasize my words by pointing my thumb over my shoulder. I want him to understand that I want to get out of here just as badly as he wants me to. But he doesn’t seem to care about what I said.
“You’re Liz Evans’s goddaughter?”
I sigh. “Yes. I’m June Collins, her goddaughter.”
He studies me more closely. Like he’s really looking at me. Kind of looking through me. Stupid green eyes. “And you live in Liz’s house now?”
I’m surprised that he knows that, but then I remember I’m in a small town. Everyone knows everything about each other in places like this. “I live in New York. I’m here visiting before I sell the house. But right now—”
He cuts me off. “You’re selling the house?”
I can hear the cozy sound from a TV inside and frown when I think I hear a conversation between Jim and Dwight from The Office.
Clearly, I’m imagining. Not a chance that this annoying man is watching my favorite TV show.
His girlfriend/wife is probably in there somewhere waiting for him to come back.
And I’m not in the mood for chit-chat with this man on his front porch.
I want to go back to my wine and my bath.
“Look, I need the cactus. So, if you could bring it to me, you can continue with your romantic evening with your girlfriend.”
He raises his eyebrows. “My girlfriend?”
I gesture with my hand. “Sorry, your wife.”
Something sparks in his eyes. A teasing glint? “That was very thoughtful of you.” I can hear he doesn’t mean a single word. “I’ll get you your cactus.” He looks at me for one second longer than necessary, like he’s still trying to tell if I really am who I say I am, before he turns and disappears.
“Thank you!” I yell after him.
Finally. Soon I’ll be out of here. While I wait, I try to get a better glimpse of his hall. I can’t see much, though. Just a couple of sneakers and a beautiful rustic hardwood floor. His wife apparently has good taste.
He takes his time and after waiting for five full and good minutes, I’m so tempted to leave that I can feel my feet tickle.
The audacity of him to take this long! What is wrong with him?
! But just then, I hear his steps again.
And when he appears in the light of the hall, I almost hitch my breath.
In his (very muscular) arms, he’s carrying a gigantic, furry creature. A dog. What the . . . ?
“Here’s Cactus,” he says and very gently puts the hairy beast down on the floor in front of him. He rubs it softly behind its ear, and the dog responds by leaning its head against his leg. I roll my eyes.
“Ha ha, very funny,” I say. “Can you please get me the plant so I can continue with my night?” And rush back to my wine. I’m beginning to feel very tired of this now.
But Benjamin nods at the dog with a superior lopsided smile.
“That is Cactus.”
“Okay, hilarious. Just get me the plant so I can—”
He interrupts me by shaking his head. “No, you don’t understand. Cactus is the cactus you’re talking about. Cactus is—I’m sorry, was—Liz Evans’s dog. Your dog.”
I stare at him. My what? No, it can’t be true. I can see my reaction is amusing him. I shake my head. “You’re messing with me.”
“No.” It’s something in the firm way he says it that makes me freeze.
No . . . this can’t be . . . I stare, first at him, then at the dog.
No. Nope. This can’t be true. There must have been some misunderstanding.
The cactus I’m here to pick up is actually a cactus.
It must be. Or . . . ? It is weird, though, keeping a cactus somewhere else for me to pick up.
Maybe it’s a very big cactus . . . ? “I’m telling you the truth.
I’ve had Cactus here since Liz passed away. ”
I finally find my voice again. “This can’t be right? No one said anything about a dog. And why would it be here? Why would you have it?”
“I’m a veterinarian.”
“Why, what? Is he sick?”
Yeah, yeah, blame me for sounding hopeful.
“No. She is very healthy. But since Liz didn’t have any relatives, they asked me to keep her until her goddaughter, you, would come and pick her up. And look, here you are!”
I scrutinize him. Damn, it looks like he’s telling the truth. What the hell am I going to do with a dog? I don’t like animals, and they usually don’t like me either.
Benjamin, the veterinarian, keeps scratching Cactus behind her ear, and she really seems to be enjoying herself. The audacity of her! At this moment! I must look terrified, or I know I do, because Benjamin suddenly laughs. It’s a self-righteous laugh.
“Relax, it’s not a dragon.”
Right now, I wish it was a dragon so it could burn down your perfect house!
“No, it’s worse. It’s a dog. I don’t do dogs.”
“Wow, that’s a relief.”
I glare at him, suffocating the impulse to flip him off. He is, after all, a stranger. I swear he’s biting back an evil smile in this very second. Jackass. His wife is apparently not missing him; she hasn’t asked for him even once since I got here. I’m not surprised.
He reaches for something behind the door, a necklace, and puts it around the beast’s neck. Then he reaches for something again, a leash, and attaches it to the necklace. Cactus looks at him offended. Like she knows what’s about to happen. I feel the same.
Benjamin gives her one last scratch before he stretches to his full length again. God, he’s tall. “Do you know what kind of breed she is?”
“A dog?”
He arches his eyebrows. I can see that he’s thinking right now that I must be the stupidest person he’s ever met, but I couldn’t care less what he thinks. I arch an eyebrow back at him. “Try again.”
I sigh loudly. “I don’t know, a Lassie?”
The arrogant look in his eyes is back. “Lassie is a name. But yeah, they’re the same breed. She’s a Rough Collie.” He hands me the leash, and after a few hesitant seconds, I accept it. Cactus doesn’t move, though.
“What am I supposed to do with her?”
He leans against the door frame again. “I don’t know. Live with her. Make her your friend. Though I understand the making friends part can be tough for you, considering all your charm and everything.”
This time I do flip him off and in the light from the hallway it looks like the corner of his lip is twitching, but just as fast it’s gone again.
I feel a sudden urge to get out of here.
Away from this arrogant-looking man and his beautiful house.
Reluctantly, I try to give the leash a light tug.
“Come on, let’s go,” I say, knowing I must sound absolutely ridiculous. How do you talk to a dog?
But Cactus won’t leave. In fact, she won’t even move. I try again and again, but nothing happens.
“Maybe she should stay here?” I try, but Benjamin doesn’t acknowledge me. I don’t notice what he's doing until he’s right beside me, taking my hand. I flinch. “What are you . . . ?!”
“Oh, don’t get any ideas,” he teases but doesn’t let go of my hand. It’s warm and surprisingly soft. A strange feeling waggles through me as his skin meets mine. He opens my hand and places something in it before letting go of me again.
“What is this?” I look down at the small brown bites in my hand.
“They’re your key to everything. Bribes. Candy. For her. Not for you.”
I roll my eyes at him before taking one and holding it in front of me.
Cactus stands immediately and walks over to me with curious steps.
“Oh,” I say in surprise. “So, you’re a candy girl?
” Cactus licks her mouth, and I give her the treat.
It disappears in a millisecond. She looks at me for more.
“Huh. I never thought I would relate so much to a dog,” I say before I remember that I’m not alone.
Benjamin watches me from his door post, and I know that the small smile on his lips is a taunting one.
“Okay, we’ll leave now. Thank you for the candy.
And . . . for having her when Liz . . . couldn’t. ”
To my surprise, Benjamin takes a step out on the porch and crouches in front of Cactus. He cups her head gently with his big hands and whispers, “Be good, sweetheart,” before standing again. I try to hide my surprise. Where did that affectionate voice come from? Ah, like I care.
Cactus looks torn, her eyes darting between Benjamin and me. Should she choose candy or safety? Unfortunately, she doesn’t have much of a choice. She gives Benjamin a guilty look as she accepts another candy and has no option but to follow me.
“Wait.”
I stop and turn with a glare. “What now?”
“Since you didn’t know Cactus was a dog, I assume you don’t have anything for dogs at home?”
Dammit, he’s right. “Isn’t the store open?”
“Not at this time. Wait a minute.” He disappears again, but this time he’s back fast. He has a brown paper bag in his hand and stretches it to me. “Here.”
“What is it?” I ask with a frown.
“What you’ll need until you go to the grocery store. It’s food and plastic bags.”
“Plastic bags?” I repeat as a stupid echo. He cocks his head with raised eyebrows, like, Really?
“Oh,” I say when I finally get it. Oh. Ew! “Hm, thank you,” I mutter.
The devious smile is back. “You’re welcome.” I roll my eyes again while I lure Cactus with sweets. When I reach the car, I hear his voice again. “Good night, Collins!”
“Your fly is open, Reyes!” I sing back to him, pleased that it’s true.