“No!” Max suddenly looked up at me, his expression laced with panic.
I held up my hands, remaining calm. “Why’s that?”
He put down his controller and turned to look out the living room window. “She’s really busy,” he mumbled, “and there’s probably nothing anyone can do about it anyway.”
I didn’t think that was the whole truth, but I kept those thoughts to myself. “Tell you what. Let me worry about telling your momma. If I can figure out a way to help, how about you agree to talk about it with your counselor?”
Max turned back to glance at me, then looked down, appearing to be working things out in his head. “I guess so,” he finally answered.
I smiled. “Deal.”
* * *
The rest of the morning was filled with researching bee phobias, bee repellants, and bee allergy treatments. Once I discovered that certain plants and smells repel bees, I thought about growing those plants in Polly’s back yard. I wasn’t a gardening expert, so I knew I’d need some help.
Jace:Do you remember what kind of sun momma needed to grow her onions in the garden?
Sarah:Who is this?
Jace:Do you know or not?
Sarah:How should I know? Ask momma.
In hindsight, I shouldn’t have asked my sister. And asking Momma was not an option. Deciding to go with buying full-grown plants and putting them in above ground planter boxes, I was able to do a lot of things myself. I made calls to the local hardware stores in town, placing the orders for the plants and supplies I needed. But what with having the kids and my car not being big enough to carry even a quarter of the supplies at a time, getting things here would be tricky.
That’s where Sam came in. He owed me no less than ten favors by now, and it was time to cash in.
Jace:I need shovels, potting soil, and a big truck
Sam:You know better than to text me this shit
Jace:I also need you to pick up 20 marigold plants, onion plants, basil and mint. And six above ground planters
Jace: I’ll send you a copy of the pickup order from Bills and Eager Beavers
Jace:You owe me
A few minutes of silence passed. It wasn’t until I sent him a picture of my face with the red rash after Ryla’s birthday party that I finally got a response.
Sam:What’s the address?
I hesitated. If I gave him Polly’s address, which he definitely knew from the party, I’d have to tell him that I was nannying Polly’s kids. And sure, he’d probably assume, (correctly), that I get inappropriately hard around her, not realizing that it was so much more. No knowing that I had this feeling that this woman could beitfor me. Figuring out I had no other option, I sent him her address.
Sam:Why do I know this address?
Sam:Why are you at Polly Alberton’s house?
Sam:Are you really not going to answer my texts?
Sam:Fine. I’ll be there no later than 2. But this is the last favor I owe you
A few hours later, Sam messaged me that he was at the gate, and I buzzed him through. After parking, Sam hopped out of the truck with a confused look on his face. “Why are we at Polly Alberton’s house? Did she hire you to do some landscaping or something?”
I put my hands on my hips. “No. She hired me to watch her two kids. I’ve been living here since Sunday. One of her kids, Max, has a bee phobia, so we need to remove all the flowers and pots from the back and put in plants and herbs that repel bees. That’s why I needed all this stuff.”
As I spoke, Sam’s expression turned from surprised to supremely self-satisfied.
“Bruh.” Sam shook his head, a smug grin in place. “Only you would get a job out of that clown gig. And after you made me feel bad about it? You hittin’ that? I mean, don’t get me wrong, she is one high-class MILF?—”
