“Vegetables or fruits first?” he asked.
“Fruits. They’ll be easier. I'm only doing watermelon and strawberries in the beds this year.”
“Thought you wanted to do that raspberry plant?” he asked.
My mom and I had tried and failed to grow a raspberry vine year after year.
“I do, but I’ve got to plant it along the fence so the vines have something to hang on to,” I explained.
He set his coffee on the porch with a hollow thunk. “They seem like they'll be high maintenance.”
Just like her.
“I think I'll be able to get them to grow,” I said just as the screen door creaked opened again.
Like the sun coming out from behind a cloud, Chase stepped onto the back porch wearing a simple white t-shirt and faded blue jeans. He was barefoot and his hair was tousled from sleep. He let loose a yawn just as the screen door hit the wood frame behind him.
“Morning Chase. Hope we didn't wake you,” my dad said.
He shook his head and tried in vain to tame his hair before giving up altogether. “Nah. I couldn't sleep so I figured I'd come down and help.” He paused and looked past my dad, his hazel eyes finding me standing in the doorway of the shed. “If that's okay…”
My dad turned to look at me with a funny expression and I knew if I said no, he would probably chastise me for being rude.
I shrugged and turned back to the shed. “The more the merrier.”
My dad finished off his coffee, Chase stepped off the porch, and then we all got busy forming an assembly line. My dad handed off the bags of mulch to Chase, Chase carried them to the beds, and I tore into them with a pair of gardening scissors. Each bed needed a couple bags, so eventually we were all working together, tearing open the plastic and pouring the bags out into even piles.
Chase knelt down at the bed across from me as my fingers dug into the fresh dirt. I tried not to glance up, but I did anyway. The morning light caught his blond hair in a way that made it hard to ignore. His face was evenly tanned from his baseball game the day before, and when he glanced up and caught me staring, I shifted my gaze back down as quickly as possible.
“I saw that banana peel on the porch. What's that for?” Chase asked with no trace of arrogance in his tone; maybe he hadn't noticed me watching him.
“I'm going to use it for my raspberries.”
He tilted his head toward me and cocked his brows. “For mulch?”
I nodded.
A few moments later he went back into the house and then came back out with a banana of his own. In true teenage-boy fashion, he ate it in three bites and then met my eye as he let the peel fall on top of mine.
“For the raspberries,” he said with his right hand over his heart and a smile that was too charming for his own good.
I chuckled under my breath and shook my head.
“Are you ready for the seeds yet, Lilah?” my dad asked from inside the shed.
I glanced around to the eight beds filled with new, rich soil. “Yup. Let's do the watermelons first.”
Three hours later, most of the beds were full of seeds, patted down, and watered. The seeds would hopefully sprout within a week or two and we'd know if we needed to plant more or not. I sat back on my heels and admired our hard work.
“I'm starving. Are you guys hungry?” my dad asked as he stood and dusted himself off.
“Yes!” Chase and I bellowed at the same time. I hadn't ever stopped to eat anything besides that banana and my stomach was grumbling in protest.
“All right. I'll run into town and grab some hamburgers.”
We rattled off specifications—no pickles for me, extra cheese for Chase—and then he set off for food. I was practically salivating at the thought of a hamburger, but I knew it would take my dad at least twenty minutes to get there and back, so I tried to keep busy continuing to plant seeds.
“Let's take a break,” Chase said, leaning back on his heels with a sigh.
I looked up at him and then laughed. There was dirt streaked across his cheek and his hair was a wild mess, even more so than when he’d first woken up.
“What? Is something funny?” he asked with a wicked gleam in his eye.
I pointed toward his cheek. “I think you've got a little something on your face.”
He swiped aimlessly at his mouth, chin, and forehead. I couldn't tell if he was intentionally missing the spot or not, but either way I pushed off the ground and rounded the flowerbed. When I was crouched down in front of him, I reached up with my thumb and wiped his cheek. The dirt hardly budged.
“Did you get it?” he asked, hopeful.
I chuckled and licked my thumb to see if it would help. The dirt was caked on really well.
He flinched when I brought my thumb back to his face. “Oh, gross. Now you're just wiping your spit on me.”
“No! I swear half your cheek is covered in dirt,” I laughed.
Before I could even react, he reached into the bed and wiped some dirt across my cheek.
“Chase!”
He shrugged. “There. Now we're even.”
Over my dead body.