Unhinge - Calia Read Page 0,34

no clue what their names were; I just saw a wild array of bright colors. I didn’t know where to start. “What are those?”

Renee shielded her eyes and looked to where I pointed. “Orchids,” she replied.

I kneeled next to her. She seemed taken off guard. “I don’t like those.”

“I don’t care too much for them either,” she confessed with a small smile. She held her hand out to me and even though we had shaken hands just moments ago, this handshake was offered with meaning, as if I had earned her respect. “I’m Renee.”

Up close, I could see the small bump on the bridge of her nose. Wrinkles surrounded her coffee-brown eyes and appeared on the edge of her lips whenever she smiled. She seemed practical and levelheaded—like the kind of person who’d say what she needed to say and go on her way.

“You don’t have to stay in this sweltering heat. I have things covered.” To back up her words, she bent her head and got to work.

If I was honest with myself, there wasn’t much I had to do. I looked over my shoulder at my work-in-progress house. The sound of hammering and sawing rang in my ears. Just like my future garden, I saw my future house: The back porch would have a brown wicker furniture set. The French doors would have lace curtains billowing in the wind. And a basket of petunias would hang from the wooden beams extended above the deck.

The truth was, I was lonely, and even though Renee wasn’t exactly the most talkative of people, I liked the vibe she put off.

“I…I can help you,” I said. She lifted her head, her eyes sharp like a cat. “If you want me to,” I added quietly.

Renee hesitated. Finally, she motioned a gloved hand in the direction of her truck. “Go get some gloves and I’ll teach you a thing or two.”

I followed her directions and found an old pair sitting out on the back of the truck bed. Was I that transparent? Did I have a blinker above my head that said, Look at me! I need a friend!

I must have because she gave me menial tasks, like helping her pull out weeds along the oak trees and around the neighbor’s fence. The time passed in silence. Renee seemed to go into a zone when she worked. Her lips spread into a thin line and her eyebrows formed a tight V. But she did hum, very quietly to herself. So quietly that I couldn’t hear her unless I was right next to her.

When I finished watering the flowers I stepped back and looked them over. “I love those lavender-blue flowers,” I said, pointing to my right.

Renee lifted her head for only a second. “Those are catmint.”

“Catmint,” I repeated blankly.

“Funny name, right? The nepetalactone in the plant lures cats in, giving them a temporary bliss. Think of it as cat weed.”

I smiled. “Impressive.” I scanned the rest of the flowers and pointed in front of me at the flowers with petals that were golden at the tips, with the color slowly bleeding into red to the head of the flower. “What about those?”

“Blanket flowers,” Renee threw out within seconds. “They’re also called gaillardia. They’re pretty now, but in a few weeks, when they’re in their prime, they’ll take your breath away.”

For the next hour I pointed to this flower and that. Renee rattled off the details so easily. I smirked and nodded approvingly. “You know quite a lot about flowers.”

“It’s in my blood. I lived in my backyard while my mom was always tending to her garden.”

“What’s your favorite flower?”

Renee was bent over yellow tulips. At my question she leaned back and stared at the ground thoughtfully, lost in her own world. “Hyacinth,” she announced and reached out in front of her to brush a single finger against a pale pink petal. “I think they’re elegant and uplifting—a garden must-have. Every time I look at them they instantly calm me.”

The two of us didn’t say much after that. We slipped into a comfortable silence and eventually, Renee resumed her humming. It wasn’t annoying or loud. It was very soft and soothing to me, making the tension from my shoulders fade away.

“Do you hum a lot?”

Renee jolted, as if she had forgotten I was there. “Sorry. I didn’t know I was doing it.”

“It doesn’t bother me.”

Renee shrugged and continued to pull out weeds. “It’s something my mom does all the time. I guess it kind of