Cash Braddock

by Ashley Bartlett

  “No, every year you make me add new plants to the rotation.” We turned and found Clive gently closing the greenhouse door. He was in a skintight T-shirt that was soaked through down his chest. I was hoping it was from a rogue watering can, but then he hugged me. Not water.

  “You’re covered in sweat, man.” I tried to push him back.

  “You’re just jealous of my natural musk.” He half smiled and shoved me away. “And you must be Laurel.” Clive put out his hand. “Either that or Cash has finally become a player.”

  Laurel shook his hand. “I think she’s far too lazy to be a player.”

  “That’s my girl. Shaky moral compass with just enough laziness to prevent her from behaving badly.” Clive tried to swipe at my hair, but I ducked out of his reach.

  “Do you think that would fit on a T-shirt?” Laurel asked.

  “I know it does. I already had them printed.”

  Laurel laughed. Clive laughed. I didn’t laugh. I had a moral compass. It wasn’t shaky, just had low sensitivity.

  “Aww, pouty.” Laurel leaned her shoulder into mine. She smelled good. I decided to forgive them.

  “So what do you say to a greenhouse tour, Laurel?” Clive asked.

  “I’m looking forward to it.”

  “You coming?” he asked me.

  “I guess I can tag along.”

  Clive led us back into the greenhouse. He explained each of the seedlings to Laurel as we wandered through. I tuned him out. I’d heard the tour before. It changed every time because the plants changed, but the gist of it was the same.

  Laurel asked questions. Judging by Clive’s reaction, they were good questions. At certain pallets, they leaned over and looked at the sprouts or soil. He made her smell various plants. I mostly just watched her ass every time she bent over. She was wearing slim navy chinos, cut off at the knee. Her legs were tan in a way I’d never been able to achieve. In summer, the best I could hope for was a slightly darker shade of white and a new crop of freckles. Not Laurel. She apparently turned into a sun god of some sort. Her threadbare white tee was a size too big. Whenever she shifted, turned, reached, the cotton would cling and drape in unexpected ways. One moment I’d get a glimpse of tanned skin at her hips, the next the perfect outline of the curve of her breast.

  I realized Clive was speaking to me.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” Clive turned back to Laurel. They both seemed to think my inability to pay attention was funny. “Anyway, that’s why we started this last group of plants. Shelby wants us to create products that aren’t entirely dependent on the crops following a schedule.”

  “Where is the famous Shelby? Cash says she’s very interesting.”

  “That’s a nice euphemism.” Clive clapped his hand on Laurel’s shoulder. “She should be here in the next half hour, which, in Shelby time, means an hour ago or three hours from now.”

  “What a fascinating approach to a schedule.”

  “I spent too much time trying to mold Shelby to my schedule. She works better on her own.” Clive shrugged. “Let’s head out. I think we have seen all the highlights in here.”

  “So do I get to see the fields?” Laurel asked.

  Clive lit up. “If you want to. It can be pretty boring to some people.” He nodded at me.

  “Some people really struggle to notice their environment. You know, they just pay attention to women’s asses and miss important details about their own business.”

  They laughed. Glad they were getting along so well. I had a feeling that their camaraderie was going to be bad for me.

  Clive treated Laurel to the short version of walking through the fields. They hit the fun stuff like the berry patches, but skipped the endless rows of lettuce and kale. I learned an important lesson. As long as I brought someone new and shiny to Clive, I wouldn’t be subjected to a discussion about squash growth. Sure, I endured the discussion of berry growth, but that involved eating berries so it was a fair trade.

  By the time we got back to the house the temp had climbed to the nineties. Hot for this far up the hill, but downright temperate considering the last few days at home. Sure, I had slept through the heat, but my news app seemed to think it was worthy of constant bulletins.

  A large umbrella had been erected over the patio table on Clive’s deck. I found Shelby stretched out in a lounge chair wearing a pair of forties era sunglasses and drinking iced tea. There were a handful of slim braids and some thread woven into her hair. Her jeans were cuffed to mid-calf and her bare shoulders were turning pink.

  “How’s it going, kid?” I sat on the edge of her lounger.

  “Divine. How was the tour?” She stretched out her feet and poked me in the stomach. “Where’s your girl? Did you bring her? I get to meet her, right?”

  “Walking with Clive.” I nodded in the direction of the small set of stairs leading to the patio. Laurel and Clive were still walking up the hill. They had gotten distracted by a bush with pink flowers. I had seen flowers before.

  “Oh, she’s so your type.” Shelby sat up and watched them intensely. “Look at how confident her walk is. Is my walk confident? Do I need a new walk?”

  “You need a chill pill.”

  “A chill pill?” Shelby flopped back down. “Sometimes I forget you’re not my age. And then you say things like ‘chill pill.’”

  “Yeah, whatever.”

  “I made iced tea. You want some? I’ll go get the pitcher.” She swung her legs to the ground. I managed to stand just in time. Shelby had dumped me off the end of many a lounge chair.

  “I’ll follow you in. You need sunscreen, by the way,” I said.

  “So do you. Your nose is pink.”

  “Dammit.” I held the door for her.

  Shelby went into the kitchen to round up glasses and her pitcher of iced tea. I continued through the house to the bathroom. Clive had ten kinds of sunscreen, but I grabbed the 50 SPF. My face wouldn’t survive without protection.

  I brought the bottle back into the kitchen. Shelby was about to go outside.

  “Hold up. Sunscreen.”

  “Oh, yeah.” She set down her tray.

  I waited until she had shifted the straps of her tank top off her shoulders, then spread the lotion across her back. “Move your hair.”

  She gathered it and held it up out of the way. I rubbed sunscreen onto her neck. “Am I good?”

  “Yep.” I capped the bottle and washed my hands.

  Shelby waited at the door for me to open it. I pulled it open and held the screen. Laurel and Clive were sitting at the table deep in conversation.

  “Hey, guys. How was the tour? You must be Laurel.” Shelby set her tray down and hugged Laurel. “It’s so nice to meet you. You know, Cash really likes you. She won’t say it ’cause she’s all caveman, but she totally likes you. I made iced tea. Do you want some?” She didn’t really give them a choice because she was already pouring and handing them glasses.

  Laurel took her glass and looked at me with wide eyes. The look suggested that she hadn’t quite believed the speed at which Shelby talked.

  “It’s great to meet you too. Everyone speaks very highly of you,” Laurel said.

  Shelby scoffed. “No, they don’t. They say I’m crazy and talk too fast and I’m flaky.”

  Laurel laughed. “That’s true. But they also say that you’re accomplished and have an uncanny ability to come up with unique, brilliant plans that no one thinks will work. And then you make them work.”

  For the first time ever, Shelby was speechless. I poked her.

  “I think you broke Shelby,” I said.

  “Oh, Cash.” Shelby hugged me. “That’s so nice of you to say.”

  I shook my head. “I didn’t tell her all that.”

  “No, I had to interpret the information I was given. But I think the conclusion is accurate,” Laurel said.

  Shelby sighed and sat next to Laurel. “Tell me more about me.”

  “No, you tell me more about
you.” Laurel was very charming when she chose to be. “Clive said you were at some big meeting.”

  Shelby squealed. “I was. Oh, Clive, you’re going to love this. Love, love this. I was at The Old Firehouse. You know that restaurant on Main?”

  “Is it in an old firehouse?” Laurel asked.

  “No.” Shelby looked at her all deadpan serious. “Why would you think that?”

  “Umm.” Laurel didn’t have a response to that one.

  “I’m screwing with you. Of course it’s in the old firehouse.” Shelby laughed at Laurel’s realization that she was being mocked. “They’re really getting into this whole local produce kick. And we are their new suppliers.” Shelby smacked Clive with the back of her hand.

  “You’re kidding.” Clive was shocked.

  “Nope.” Shelby was vibrating with excitement.

  Clive leaned over and pulled her into a massive hug. “That’s amazing. How did you manage that? Are we going to be able to produce enough?”

  “Yeah, we won’t supply all their produce. Just specific seasonal offerings. Whatever our best crop is that week, that’s what we will give them. I negotiated a slightly better price for them in exchange for a line on the menu.”

  “So we’re getting free advertising too?” Clive hadn’t looked this happy in a long time.

  “Congratulations, guys. This sounds like a big deal,” Laurel said.

  “It’s huge,” Clive said.

  “Well, I am employee of the month.” Shelby grinned at Clive.

  “You’re my only employee,” he said.

  “I didn’t say the competition was fierce.”

  As I watched Shelby and Clive pat themselves on the back, I remembered why I was so happy when he hired her. She cared about farming. I cared about the success of the business, but that was an extension of caring about Clive. Shelby was passionate about growing things and making them profitable. Just like Clive. It was a whole earthy thing that I just didn’t have. It was good that he had found someone he could share that passion with.

  I knew plenty of people found this platonic relationship between a young adult who was barely past twenty and bachelor nearing fifty odd. But those assumptions didn’t matter. It worked. That was what mattered.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Lunch had stretched into an early dinner. The beer was cold, the food was never ending, and the company was good. The sun was beginning to drop when my phone rang. I glanced at the readout. Andy.

  “Sorry, guys. I should take this.” They nodded. I swiped and stood up. “Hey, tiger. How’s it going?”

  “Could be worse.”

  “What’s up?”

  “The power is out. It’s already gone out like ten times. My mom texted. She’s probably going to be at the hospital all night. I’m supposed to call you and ask when the power is going to be back on.” She didn’t sound very concerned. She sounded bored.

  “Just a sec. Let me check my phone.”

  “All right.”

  I went to my home screen and saw five text messages. One was from Nate telling me that Jerome was tagged. The rest were automated from the power company. The power on our block wasn’t going to be turned on for at least another five hours. I clicked back over to Andy. “It looks like there won’t be any power tonight.”

  “I kind of got that impression. Mom said the hospital is crazy busy. And I’m not supposed to go out. The traffic and heat are making people terrible.”

  “That makes sense. How hot is the house?”

  “Hot as fuck. The AC was going on and off with the power, but I don’t think it’s coming back on anytime soon. I turned off all the AC units.”

  “Good idea. Will you do me a favor and check on Nickels?”

  “Already did. Your windows are open, blinds are closed. Nickels has a million bowls of cool water.”

  “You’re the best. Let me talk to Laurel and your mom and I’ll figure out when I’m going to be home.”

  “Cool. Bye.”

  “Bye.”

  I went back to the table. “Laurel, check your phone. Power is out all over midtown.”

  She only looked mildly concerned. Until she read her texts. “This looks bad.” She typed and clicked and frowned.

  “Yours is out too?”

  “Yeah, but it’s not just us. Portions of Oak Park and Land Park, all of Curtis, half of East Sac. It’s going to take them hours to sort this out.”

  “I’m calling Robin. Andy is home alone,” I said.

  “Yeah, good idea. She works at one of the hospitals, right?” I nodded. “Ask her how the roads are. They are probably getting an influx of injuries if it’s as bad as the news says it is.”

  I clicked Robin’s name, but was sent straight to voice mail. “Hey, I just talked to Andy. It looks like power will be out until one, at least. Maybe later than that. Laurel and I are at the farm, but we will get on the road soon. Call me when you can.”

  “I take it you didn’t get her?” Laurel asked.

  “Nope. I’m guessing she doesn’t have time for phone calls.” As I said it, my phone vibrated. It was another text. This time from Robin.

  Don’t drive. Roads are terrible. I’ll call later.

  “Should we get going?” Laurel asked. “I’m assuming we shouldn’t leave Andy alone.”

  I showed her the text. “Robin says not to drive.”

  I texted Robin back. What about Andy?

  It was five minutes before Robin responded. She will be fine. Will you text Alejandro’s parents and Sophie’s mom? One of them should be able to run over if Andy needs someone. You might want to stay up the hill.

  “Robin says we shouldn’t drive into midtown tonight,” I said.

  “So you’ll stay here,” Clive said. “I have plenty of room.”

  I glanced at Laurel. I didn’t want to commit her to anything she wasn’t cool with. She nodded. “It makes sense. If it’s as bad as they say it is, we don’t want to be driving down there.”

  “Okay. Give me a minute.” I shot off texts to Alejandro’s dad and Sophie’s mom. They both wrote back immediately. The kid was covered. I swiped to Andy’s name and hit call.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey, I talked to your mom. She says we shouldn’t drive home tonight.”

  “Okay. It’s not like I haven’t been left alone before,” Andy said. Which was adorable. She had been left home alone only on nights when I was there. But I realized that Andy didn’t know that. Robin and I had always kept it to ourselves so Andy could feel independent, but Robin wouldn’t have to worry.

  “That’s true. But it’s an odd situation. Plus, I’m normally close by. I already texted Alejandro’s dad and Sophie’s mom so they are available if you need help.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “I know you will, but if you need something, call them. What percentage is your phone at?”

  “Eighty-five. I plugged it in when the power came back on the first time.”

  “Smart kid,” I said.

  “I know.”

  “And don’t waste battery power on Snapchat. Read a book or something.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” she said.

  “And don’t light a ton of candles. Just a few so you can see.”

  “Got it,” she said.

  “And keep a flashlight close.”

  “Cash, the power is out. It’s not the apocalypse.” She sounded exasperated.

  “Sorry. Keep an eye on Nickels. Have fun, but not too much.”

  “Bye, Cash.”

  “Bye.” I hung up. “That kid is going to give me a heart attack.”

  “I love these full circle moments,” Clive said.

  *

  I found Laurel lying on one of the picnic tables Clive had built last summer. She was stretched out with her ankles crossed and feet hanging over the edge. The flannel shirt she’d borrowed from Clive was spread under her like a blanket.

  “Look at this.” Laurel stretched out her arms.

  I cli
mbed up and sat next to her. “Here.” I had two beers and a blanket. I gave her one of the bottles and I rolled the blanket so we could use it as a pillow. “What are we looking at?”

  “The stars. Seriously. Have you ever seen so many stars?”

  I looked up. There were a ton of stars. “Oh, yeah, there are a lot more visible stars up here.”

  “No, but really. Lie down. Look at this.”

  I sighed. A gorgeous woman wanted me to look at the stars with her. Life was tough. “Scoot over.” I stretched out next to her.

  “You talk to Robin?”

  I folded my arms behind my head. “Yeah, she finally called.”

  “You feel better about leaving Andy now?”

  “Yeah. Robin talked to Alejandro’s mom before she called me. Andy is covered.” I nudged her feet with mine. “What about you? Do you need to call the office and tell them you’ll be late?”

  Laurel closed her eyes and shook her head. “I texted. It doesn’t matter.” She exhaled loudly. “If I show up, I’m irresponsible, if I don’t, I’m irresponsible.” She forced a shrug.

  “That bad?”

  “Yes. No. I don’t know.”

  “Well, you let me know when you figure it out.” That got me half a smile.

  “It’s not as dramatic as I’m making it seem. I’m just tired of my parents, of their…everything.”

  “Have you considered not working for your father?” It didn’t exactly seem like a barrel of laughs.

  “Every day.”

  I glanced over at her and found that she was studying me. She propped herself up on an elbow. “I’m thirty-two. I shouldn’t give the remotest of fucks about what my parents think of me.”

  “No, probably not.”

  “Yet, I do. Every time, I think I’ll prove them wrong and instead, they prove my assumptions right.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She shook her head again. “It’s like every decision I’ve made in the past fifteen years, they disagreed with. What college to go to, where to live, what to wear, who to date.”

  “So fuck them.” I was missing something here. But then, I’d been told the same thing by countless people. There had been times that Clive was my only advocate. Overalls in elementary school weren’t for girls. Baseball shirts in middle school weren’t okay. Pretty girls had long hair in high school. But every time, Clive had gone out and bought the overalls and baseball shirts. He continued bringing me to his barber when I asked if I could keep my hair short. He didn’t care that my grandparents disagreed with him or that my teachers thought I was too active.