All They Need - By Sarah Mayberry Page 0,55
said, stepping up to take the tray from Mel’s mother’s hands.
“Thank you, Jacob,” Mel’s mother said pointedly. Then she glanced past his shoulder and caught sight of Flynn, her brown eyes suddenly bright with curiousity. “Hello. I don’t think I know you.”
“This is Flynn, Mom. Flynn, this is my mother, Valerie.”
“Nice to meet you, Valerie.”
“Please, call me Val.” She smiled, her gaze sweeping his body in a disconcertingly thorough survey.
Out of the corner of his eye, Flynn saw Mel frown.
“Did you bring anything to drink, Mom?” Harry asked.
“The cooler’s in the back of the car.”
Harry sighed and headed for the path.
“Can you grab some serviettes from the kitchen?” Mel called after him. “Second drawer down to the left of the dishwasher.”
“Sure. Anything else you need while I’m at it? Shoes shined, your taxes done?”
Mel didn’t respond, which struck Flynn as being a missed opportunity. He glanced over and caught Val giving Mel a big thumbs-up, accompanied by what he could only describe as a salacious wink and a gesture in his direction. Unaware that she was being observed, Mel frowned and shook her head, a signal that Flynn guessed was meant to inform her mother that she was barking up the wrong tree. Val’s mouth turned down at the corners and she mouthed the words Why not? at Mel. At which point Mel caught his eye.
He offered her his best innocent smile and watched as a tide of pink washed up her face. She turned away and started fussing pointlessly with the garden tools. He decided to take it as a hopeful sign.
A few minutes later Harry returned with a cooler full of canned drinks. Val placed both the cooler and the tray of sandwiches together on the grass and Mike, Harry and Jacob dropped to the ground and dove in. Flynn loitered, waiting until Mel sat before oh, so casually taking the spot beside her, feeling about as suave and sophisticated as a fourteen-year-old with his first crush, and probably just as obvious.
“So what do you do, Flynn?” a voice asked from his other side and he realized Mel’s mother had nabbed the spot next to him.
“I work in property development.”
“Help yourself to a sandwich before my son hoovers them all up,” Val said. “The Porter family motto is He Who Hesitates is Lost. You’ll starve if you hang back.”
She waited until he had his mouth full before hitting him with her next question. “I believe I’ve heard Mel mention that you bought Summerlea recently. That’s a big project to take on.”
Flynn swallowed before responding. “I figure if I take it bit by bit, I’ll eventually get things under control. And if that turns out to be completely delusional, I can always call in the pros.”
“So you like a bit of handyman work, do you?” Val asked.
“I’m more of a gardener, to be honest. But I’d like to think I’m not completely useless with a power drill.”
“You should talk to Harry. He does some handyman work on the side.”
“Mom.” Mel’s voice held a not-so-subtle warning.
“Thanks, I will,” he said, shooting Mel a look to let her know he didn’t mind her mother’s suggestion. He was new to the area, and he’d much prefer to have someone he knew working with him than a random tradesperson he’d plucked from the phone book or the classifieds.
“And are you married, Flynn?” Val asked, nibbling delicately on the crust of a chicken salad sandwich.
Mel choked and he glanced at her in enquiry.
“Need me to Heimlich you again?” he asked.
“No,” she said, her eyes watering.
He grabbed a can of Coke from the cooler. Pulling the tab, he passed it to her. When he returned his attention to Val, her expression indicated she was still waiting for his answer.
“I’m not married,” he said.
“Ah. Divorced, then?”
Mel sighed loudly. “Mom. I swear—”
“How else am I supposed to get to know people if I don’t ask questions?”
“I don’t know—maybe you could wait until it comes up in conversation?” Mel suggested.
“As if Flynn’s going to talk about his divorce with a total stranger.”
“Thank you for making my point for me,” Mel said.
She successfully changed the subject after that, and once the sandwiches had been polished off Val went home. After twenty more minutes of lounging in the warm winter sunlight, they roused themselves and started the first of many trips transferring the topsoil from the front lawn to the garden beds.
By five o’clock Flynn was sweaty, sore and covered with grit. It had been a while since he’d worked