3. Lizzie
3
LIZZIE
“The mud creations look great, girls.”
“Thanks, Miss Lizzie,” Mackenzie and Addy reply in unison.
Cameron has been gone for about thirty minutes now, and I’ve learned a lot about his daughters in a short amount of time. For one, they do not stop talking. These girls are not shy. And two, they love their dad more than anything. Something I can definitely get on board with.
Oh my gosh, did I really just think that?
I need to get myself under control if I have any chance of surviving as Cameron Dylan’s next-door neighbor as an adult. Being a teenager with a crush was bad enough.
“Daddy said we can have sleepovers with our cousins now that we live here. We’ve never had sleepovers before,” Mackenzie says while making a mud castle, not even looking up as she carries on with our conversation.
“Auntie Nikki has a pool, too. We get to swim in it all summer long,” Addy chimes in with excitement. I’ve been in a trance watching her rub mud on her legs for the past five minutes like it’s some sort of spa treatment that people pay hundreds of dollars for.
“Wow. It sounds like you have so much fun planned for the summer.” I smile at the girls, reveling in the fact that they’re actually very talented in their mud creations.
Well, Mackenzie is. Addy is showing her creativity in other ways.
“I wish all my mud animals wouldn’t get washed away with the next rainstorm,” Mackenzie whispers, almost to herself, but still loud enough to carry to where I’m sitting. “I want to keep them forever.”
“You know, if you made your animals out of clay, you could keep them forever.”
Both girls look up at me suspiciously, but it’s Mackenzie who finally asks, “How do you know that?”
“Because I make things with clay. It’s called pottery. That’s my job.”
“So cool!” Addy shouts, abandoning her leg mud mask and racing toward me. “Can you show us plottersry?”
I laugh at her enthusiasm and at the way she butchers the word. “It’s called pottery,” I say, stressing the syllables. “As long as your dad says it’s okay. I actually teach classes in town for kids. I’ll talk to him and see if he can take you sometime.”
Mackenzie stares at me with a shy smile on her face. “That would be very nice. Thank you, Miss Lizzie.” She hesitates for a second, looking up at me with unsure eyes, before racing over to wrap her arms around my waist, covering me in wet mud. I hardly care, though, because this is one of the sweetest things I’ve ever experienced. And all because I offered a pottery class.
We’re still hugging when we hear the distinct sound of wheels on dirt. We all turn our heads to see Cameron driving down the road leading to our farms, his big truck tearing up the space between us.
As soon as he stops, the girls take off running for him, jumping into his arms as he climbs out.
“We definitely all need showers now. I better get this pipe fixed ASAP, right, girls?”
“Right,” Mackenzie and Addy sing-song together.
“Were you girls good for Miss Lizzie?” he asks, taking on a serious tone as he looks at me for the answer and clearly sees the mud on my clothes.
“Best behaved girls I’ve ever met. Very creative too,” I answer. He smiles in response and then ruffles Mackenzie’s hair while still holding Addy.
“Yeah, Daddy, look!” Mackenzie yells and then runs over to her mud sculptures. “I made a whole zoo out of mud.” Cameron looks closely at each animal and smiles brightly at his daughter.
“Daddy, can we go to Miss Lizzie’s pot-ter-ry class?” Addy makes sure to enunciate each syllable of the word to ensure she gets it right this time. Cameron looks from Addy to me after she finishes speaking, and I realize that it was a dick move to tell the girls about it before bringing it up with him first.
“Sorry they’re putting you on the spot. I offer pottery classes for kids and thought they might have fun, considering all of this,” I quickly add while sweeping my arms in the direction of their mud mess.
“Don’t be sorry. I think the girls would love that, and I think it’ll be a lot cleaner than this, being in a controlled environment and all.” He laughs while surveying the layers of mud that will undoubtedly take some extra time in the bath to scrub off. “Your mom told me all about the success you’ve been having. Showed me pictures of your work, too.” He keeps holding my gaze, like he’s seeing me, not looking through me. “Congratulations, Lizzie. You should be really proud of yourself. You’re unbelievably talented.”
I’m so stuck in his gaze and totally caught off guard by his compliment that it takes me a second to respond.
“Oh, wow, um…Thanks. I can’t believe my mom bombarded you like that. Showing me off.” I laugh awkwardly. “Well, I mean, I can believe it, but jeez…I’m sorry. That’s really embarrassing.”
“Don’t be embarrassed.” He gives me his signature smile. “Take it from a parent: our greatest joys in life are showing off our kid’s accomplishments. She’s so proud of you and wants everyone to know it.”
I just nod and smile because I don’t really know how to respond. We kind of just stare at each other for a minute until Addy breaks the silence.
“Dad, I’m hungry! Can we have a snack?”
We stop our staring contest so Cameron can shift to set Addy on her feet. “Go sit down at the picnic table, and I’ll get you set up with a snack. Shit, I’ve got to get you rinsed off first, at least your hands.” He turns back to me then with pleading eyes. “Can you give me ten more minutes of your time, Lizzie, while I get the pipe squared away upstairs? I promise this will be the last favor I ask of you.”
“Of course. Go do your thing. I’ve got nothing to do, so it’s no trouble—I promise.”
He jogs back to his truck and grabs a bag before racing inside and upstairs, giving me more than enough time to overthink my response.
Really, Lizzie? You’ve got nothing to do? That was the best thing you could come up with? Plus, my mom gushing about me like I’m a little kid isn’t helping my case either.
I don’t know why I’m getting so mad about it when it’s mostly true. I don’t leave the house much, and I keep to myself. But there was a part of me that wanted to sound appealing to him for once instead of the neighbor girl he feels safe enough asking to babysit his kids.
In the ten minutes that he’s gone, the girls finalize their mud creations. Addy made a very lumpy-looking hamster-cat hybrid, while Mackenzie made a remarkably realistic version of a horse. She really has some raw talent that I hope she’s encouraged to explore as she gets older.
I find their animals so cute that I snap a few pictures with my phone. Why, I have no idea, but I feel like I need to remember them.
The back door swinging open draws all our attention to Cameron coming back outside. His well-worn jeans and plain white T-shirt soaked in water and glued to his chest add to his appeal even further. I have a hard time taking my eyes off him, and when I do manage it, he’s staring right back at me with a small smile on his face.
Yep, he totally caught me checking him out. Oh boy.
I feel my cheeks heat from embarrassment. He shouldn’t have to deal with my wandering eyes, and I definitely do not want to face the inevitable looks of pity if I keep getting caught. Time to reel it in, Lizzie.
“Thanks again, Lizzie. I really appreciate the help. You were a lifesaver this afternoon.”
“No biggie. What are neighbors for, am I right?” I emphasize the word neighbors to hopefully negate getting caught ogling him in front of his daughters.
“Right.” Cameron laughs, almost awkwardly. “Still, I’ll have to find a way to pay you back.”
“You don’t have to, really.”
“But I do,” he counters with a smile.
“Ohhhkayyy, if you insist,” I drag out nervously. “Well, have fun getting clean, girls,” I yell, waving to Addy and Mackenzie as I start to head across the yard. “And good luck on your renovations, Cameron.” I say over my shoulder, trying to make a hasty retreat back home.
“Thanks, Lizzie. Oh, and it’s been really nice seeing you again. Definite perk of moving back home,” he shouts right before I'm about to cross over into my yard. I meant to just give him a slight wave over my shoulder, but I couldn’t help but turn, only to see a big smile on his face.
Unfortunately, that’s also the moment when I slide right into a huge puddle of mud that's slightly dried out but still sludgy enough to be slippery.
After a mortifying display of limbs flying in every direction as I try to regain my balance, I fall straight on my hip and left butt cheek. I go down so hard that the breath is knocked out of me like I've been punched in the kidney.
"Shit," Cameron says and starts to run toward where I’m sprawled in the mud. "Are you okay?"
Before he can run all the way over, I find my voice and throw my hand up to stop him. "I'm good, don't worry." I manage to get up without slipping again, but I’m not able to hide my wince when I move to take a step.
This is going to leave a bruise for sure.
"You went down pretty hard, Lizzie. Are you sure you’re, okay?" he asks.
Thankfully, he stopped where he was when I put my hand up, so he’s a good ten feet away still. Not far enough to miss my flaming red cheeks from embarrassment, but enough that I have space to breathe and rein in my humiliation.
"Just knocked the wind out of me, that's all." I look down at myself and see mud covering the bottom half of my body and arms. "And got me a little muddy. Guess I need a shower, too." I turn around quickly and speed walk to my barn, my hip throbbing with each step I take. "See you around," I call over my shoulder before shutting myself inside the safety of the barn.
Later that night, after washing off the mud and icing my hip and butt, I continually replay the afternoon in my head—especially the exchange Cameron and I had before I made a fool out of myself.
Was he flirting with me? Teasing me? Just being nice?
God, I wish I knew. I’m way out of my depth here. Even if he was flirting, after the display of clumsiness and incoordination, he probably regrets it.
Ugh. Why am I this way?