Both wore mud boots and work gloves. She smiled at them, noting that the boy didn’t return her smile. He was a good-looking kid, with a thatch of brown hair falling over his eyes and a tall frame he was still growing into.
“No, he’s either at the firehouse or asleep. Are you looking for him? I can give him a message.”
“No, it’s okay.” S.G. shook her head. “This is Dylan. He’s my friend.”
“Dylan. Good to hear you have a name.” The boy didn’t laugh at her joke, and S.G. glared at her. She made a mental note to be more sensitive with S.G. and her first crush. “Welcome to Petal to the Metal, Dylan. How’s it working out so far?”
“Pretty good.” His voice cracked when he spoke, landing in that uncomfortable realm between childhood and adulthood.
“Where are you from? S.G. says you’re new at school.”
“Fairbanks,” he answered, his gaze sliding away from hers. Interesting. Kate got the distinct impression that he wasn’t telling the truth. Oh well. It was none of her business.
“Is Darius your boyfriend now?” S.G. asked in her cut-to-the-chase way.
“Who told you that?” Kate wiped suddenly sweaty hands on her pants. Had word already spread around Lost Harbor about them—before there was even a real “them”?
“Nobody. But he’s a really good person, isn’t he?”
“Sure. He puts out fires and he’s an excellent tenant. Why do you ask?”
S.G. shrugged.
Kate shot a quick glance at Dylan, who was staring down at the ground, probably ignoring the conversation. She couldn’t figure him out; he seemed withdrawn and a little sad. But with her troubled teen years, she always gave teenagers the benefit of the doubt. It was such a bewildering time of life. Thank God she’d had Emma back then.
Turning to her grandmother, she asked, “So what are we working on today, Emma? What gloriously muddy task have you assigned to us? Weeding? Botrytis patrol? Maybe something relaxing like the website? It could use some updating.”
“We gotta fix the old tool shed. It’s turning into a toxic waste site. Next Wednesday is the day to bring all our old chemicals to the dump. Heavy metals day, they call it.”
“Sounds like it’s right up your alley. Petals to the Heavy Metal.” She winked at the two kids. “Get it?”
Finally she got a reaction out of Dylan. A smile. An actual smile that traveled across his wary face and reached his eyes, like a light turned on in a basement room. He looked like a completely different kid when he smiled. A blue-eyed, happy kid.
It was such a dumb joke, too. She had to like someone who didn’t mind a lame joke, no matter their age.
“Any dangerous chemicals in that shed?” she asked her grandmother. “We don’t want to expose the kids to anything like that.”
“No no, it’s just fertilizer and paint. Copper to fight the slugs. Some pesticides. Come on, kids, I’ll show you. Kate, bring the old Ford around and we’ll load everything in there. It’s the only truck with a canopy that doesn’t leak.”
She hustled the kids onto a path that led to the back of the property, while Kate headed for the motley assortment of vehicles parked willy-nilly along the front driveway. One of Emma’s many abilities was fixing cars, although she refused to work on any rigs besides her own. She knew her own vehicles inside and out, but other people’s confounded her.
Just one of the many things that made her adore her infuriating but fascinating grandmother.
The key was already in the ignition of the Ford, and it started up with only a bit of pumping of the gas pedal.
She drove down the gravel drive that led to the bottom of the property, where the two kids were already carrying cans of old paint out of an ancient shed. Thick moss covered its roof; a baby spruce tree had taken root there.
“Is this thing even salvageable?” she asked as she pulled on the work gloves S.G. handed her.
“Oh yes. I’m gonna teach these kids some basic carpentry while we fix it up.”
“Fix it up for what?”
“Honeymoon suite.” Emma plopped two crusted old cans into the bed of the Ford, while Kate goggled at her.
“Those are two words I never imagined I’d hear you say. Honeymoon suite?” Kate followed her grandmother inside the dank shed. It smelled of mold and manure. Not exactly romantic honeymoon material.
“Never say never, kiddo.” Emma lifted her eyebrows at her and pointed at a jumble of broken tools in the back of the