Love Ever Green

“Are you the one with the torn jacket and the shirt pocket practically falling off…in the closet?” Gina inclined her head toward the cabin. “You know the old saying! ‘A stitch in time…’” She delivered the line sneeringly. She wasn’t about to tell the guy she had mended those wardrobe problems out of the goodness of her heart, not even knowing whose things she was repairing!

“You’ve been going through my clothes?” Gabe might have moved a step closer. Gina wasn’t sure.

She stood her ground. “Yes, but only to gently slide them aside,” she fudged, “when that nice man and his wife helped me get checked in for my retreat, which you are totally disturbing.” Gina watched Gabe looking toward the cabin as if he wanted to barge in and see how seriously it had been invaded.

“Look.” She leaned forward a fraction. “I haven’t been using your toothpaste or anything!” She wanted to add, “So ease off, would you?” But she held her tongue. Anyway, she maybe shouldn’t be bragging too much here on this topic, because she hadn’t been able to resist opening and smelling the bottle of Old Spice body wash that must be his, Steel Courage variety. It had smelled very nice, and very masculine. It was so difficult to keep a straight face right now!

Gabe huffed a big sigh with clear notes of exasperation in it. Nevertheless, his volume was a bit softer than before as he said, “Chip and Claire checked you in.” He was nodding. “To my cabin. For a ‘retreat,’ whatever that means. Huh.” Now, he was shaking his head. “And I thought my return flight atrociously early today was a nightmare. I feel like ‘Allen’ in Wonderland, everything gone completely wacky!”

Now, he was shaking his head again. Gina figured she could easily bolt to the door right now and lock him out. But, for some reason, she didn’t.

“It figures. I go out of town for the first time in two years, and things absolutely fall apart here. Chip probably set this up, this...whatever you are doing, intentionally timing it for while I was away.”

Gina unfolded her arms, stepped in front of the bench, and sat down. “I don’t think it’s possible he did that. Your uncle was quite surprised when I contacted him and asked if I could stay here. Pleasantly surprised,” she couldn’t resist adding.

“I see.” He nodded, then suddenly he was doing the opposite again. “No, I really don’t see at all, since you don’t have permission to be here. I mistook you for a teenager lost in the woods and seizing the opportunity to practice beginner gymnastics on a triple-wide, a.k.a. cheater’s, balance beam, but which actually is a $1,500 solid elm bench we just installed in my father’s memory.” Territorially, he practically stamped up onto the porch now, stopping short and immediately fingering one of the little bags Gina had tacked – gently, with straight pins – to the support posts.

“That’s fresh basil. And I sewed the muslin bags right here in the cabin on my portable. I bring it with me everywhere.”

“And the purpose of these is...?”

Venturing closer, Gina explained that the basil was a natural mosquito repellent. “I honestly wasn’t sure how bad the mosquitoes would be, but I figured to be on the safe side.”

Gabe shrugged. “Well. I half expected you to say something different, such as it repels vampires.”

“Oh!” Gina suddenly understood what books meant when they said somebody bristled, because she was bristling at Gabe’s words. Her forehead wrinkled and she nodded a little. “I see.” Some first impression this guy had of her! Maybe she should make up a story about various anti-vampire methods given in a book of superstitions kept under her pillow. “Well, thanks at least for not yanking them down.”

Gabe gave her a sharp look. Then, he reached for the knob, opening the door slightly. Then he stopped and looked at Gina. “May I?” His tone was phenomenally slathered in sarcasm.

That did it. “Well, since you asked, then no. You may not. This cabin has been legally rented by me, and I’d much rather you speak with your uncle than intrude on my belongings just now.”

Evidently struggling for self-control, Gabe finally closed the door and turned. “Granted. Some colossal mix-up has happened, no doubt due to more bad decision-making being done without my input. All I know is, when I flew out a week ago, there was no rental property here. No ‘retreat’ site for the public. Just the retreat of my cabin, which my friends and I built by the sweat of our brows, for family use only, and which I was expecting to find empty and a welcome place to unwind after a grueling work trip where the food didn’t agree with me and I had to skip the evening festivities to work on contracts, not to mention worrying about things back home, which, clearly, was warranted.” He shook his head four or five times. “A little kid screamed literally the entire flight, and I honestly couldn’t blame her, based on the turbulence.” Gabe expelled a harsh laugh, and the force in it sent Gina toward her former fear mode for a second. “After all of that, is it too much to expect to finally crash on my bed, in my cabin?” He put his hands on his hips. “And, as for my uncle and what he has ‘legally’ arranged with you, there is only one decision-maker on this land, and you’re looking at him!”

As Gabe’s tirade echoed through the clearing, Gina zeroed in on one phrase of it. “By the sweat of our brows”? Oh, my! Cliché guy. She took to coping by means of derision, giving internal vent to things she would not stoop to voicing out loud. What else could she say without this clash turning into fisticuffs? If she were a guy, it probably already would have!