“So I skipped a couple of steps, I thought I had it,” she retorted, her snark creeping back. “Sue me why don’t you?”
“Jesus, and there’s wiring down here too. It’s so dangerous, Georgie. Just going at things like this, half-assed, not knowing what the hell you are doing, is going to get you or someone else hurt!” I berated her as I fixed the problem, the naivety made me so angry.
There was no more retorts from up above. I bit my tongue and continued attaching the waste disposal unit she’d tried to add on. Once finished I got back up.
We stood there still breathing heavily from the mayhem, water dripping from our hair. She looked positively miserable with the conclusion of the crisis. Hell she had the far away look of a defeated child, who’d just lost at their favorite game. And I hadn’t exactly helped by shouting at her.
“Georgie?” I said softly.
She bit her trembling lip. “I’m sure you’re right, it was stupid. I was stupid. You could stop yelling at me,” she replied, looking up at me with glossy eyes.
I couldn’t stay mad at her for long when she looked like that, all bedraggled yet gorgeous and hell, her soggy clothing left little to my imagination. I had an overwhelming urge to take her in my arms and hold her until her sass came back. Instead I held steady, feet away from her, resisting the temptation to lick the wetness from her lips.
“Listen, I’m sorry for shouting. I’m just glad we got things fixed and you weren’t hurt.”
“Thanks, I have to admit I’m glad you were here.” She leaned forward, catching her breath and reached out to pat my chest as if in thanks.
She paused, stroked my chest, exhaling a little gasp then looked up at me with those big brown eyes.
I was a goner. Done for. Stick a fork in me… I could no longer resist my growing urge. In one crazy movement I took her in my arms, lips descending upon her mouth with no way of stopping. My fingers cradled her head as I finally got my first taste of the spitfire from across the street.
Almost as if I’d breathed life back into her, she responded eagerly. Desperate hands clutching my shirt, tugging me closer, our cold soggy bodies pressing together. No longer did I feel the cold anymore only the heat of our passionate kiss and the reckless fiery urge to claim her.
Chapter Six
Georgie
Everything started to snowball. I was not sure when or how the day had started going wrong. I had risen early filled with optimism. I had been fixing up bits and pieces around the house. The waste disposal had perhaps been a step too far. But it had led me to this moment in Derek's arms.
The heart pounding panic of the flood now translated to our hard, unyielding kisses. His hot lips overwhelmed any thoughts of the cold of my soaked clothes as our bodies frantically knocked together, as if they were two bits of flint desperately trying to ignite a spark to start a roaring camp fire.
It felt heavenly despite the carnage around us. We swayed and stumbled over the arrayed towels and splashed through the remaining water, until I was pressed against the counter on the opposite side. He held my face and kissed me more. I welcomed his tongue with delight and ran my hands over him.
“Daddy?”
Kadee's quiet voice shocked us both out of our intimacy. He let go of me and we both straightened up awkwardly.
“Kadee, what are you doing leaving the house!” Derek said with concern.
“I’m sorry, Daddy. I couldn't find you so I came to find Georgie,” said Kadee sleepily.
“Okay honey, I’m here. There was an emergency.”
“You were kissing Georgie,” Kadee said in a matter of fact tone.
“No, no that was nothing Kadee… It’s okay, nothing to see. I just had to fix the waste disposal,” he replied.
Nothing? I exclaimed to myself. His desire still lingered on my lips and he sounded like it didn’t even matter. I’ll jam your head in that waste disposal to see if it’s working, if you think I’m nothing mister!
Thankfully I didn’t say this out loud and clenched my fists instead, staring at him wide eyed.
Derek offered farewell platitudes as he picked up his sleepy daughter. She waved back over his shoulder to me. In my still shocked state I managed a half wave in return.
I was left alone again amid the mess, this was a hell of a setback. The rest of my day would be spent cleaning up. But that wasn’t the most pressing thought in my mind. What had just happened between us, it was a kiss I was certainly going to remember. But his reaction once Kadee arrived on the scene infuriated me. Did he really need to flee the scene so rapidly, like what we had done… or were about to do, was something to be ashamed of?
Fuck… so much for making up with the neighbor. I’d never meant for it to go that far. At least not consciously.
Chapter Seven
Derek
The next morning, Kadee’s sleepy face burst to life with excitement when I reminded her that today was the day of the surprise. I was glad of it too, anything that would distract me from my encounter with Georgie yesterday, and my daughter’s incessant questions about what exactly Daddy had been doing with Georgie in the kitchen. That was a conversation I certainly wasn’t ready for.
Fuck, what had I been thinking kissing her? As if there wasn't enough tension and problems in my life right now.
Thankfully, I hadn't seen Georgie since. Yet that didn’t stop my thoughts drifting to her again and again. What she was thinking? What was she doing now? Should I go over? I pushed that idea out of my head immediately, along with the prevalent longing to kiss her again.
“What is it, Daddy?” Kadee asked forcing me to concentrate.
“You’ll have to wait and see.” I led Kadee to the garage door where the surprise awaited, I had never seen her so giddy.
“Okay, close your eyes, sweetie,” I insisted. Kadee scrunched her eyes shut dramatically and I flung open the door. The sight of the brand new bike was met with a high pitched squeal. Living with her mom, Karen’s city apartment had never offered any opportunity like this for my baby girl. Kadee had sorely been missing out. Kids needed to be able to play outside in the fresh air, riding bikes and climbing trees. Though, one thing at a time. The trees could wait and skinning knees were certainly not on the agenda. It was time to set things right, but with the level of safety my baby girl deserved.
“Now, first things first, Kadee. You’ll have to get geared up, even with the training wheels on. Safety first!”
“I don’t need training wheels. Just you watch,” she said confidently, and grasped the handlebars all read to jump aboard.
“Wait, now. Come here.”
Reluctant to leave her new bike Kadee frowned, but with a little encouragement she eventually followed me when I ushered her to the pile of clothing on a bench inside the garage. Her giddiness had been replaced with attentive determination, eyes on her new bike. We got her all kitted out, gloves, pads, and helmet, together with my own little additions. I adjusted some of my own knee pads, I used when laying flooring, to fit her and strapped them on like shoulder armor. I stood back to admire my work. Kadee grinned back from under her large helmet. No harm was going to come to my darling girl.
My truck was parked down the street, leaving the driveway free to use. I walked the bike out to the sidewalk so she could ride toward the garage at first. Kadee waddled alongside me, practically squealing with delight, her hands outstretched wanting to be constantly in contact with her gift.
“Let’s do this. Are you ready? Hop on.”
Kadee tentatively clambered on as I held the handlebars steady.
“Now you keep your feet on the peddles, okay? And don’t let go.”
“I know, Daddy. Here I go!” she exclaimed as she rang the bell loudly.
I let go of the handlebars after she got peddling, able to prop her up by the shoulder pads. She wobbled slowly forward as I walked beside, holding on to the underside of the saddle.
“Let go, Daddy, I can do it,” she pleaded after one trip back and fort
h.
“Not yet, you need to get used to it first.”
As we arrived back at the sidewalk Georgie's truck pulled up to her house across the street. She got out, looking over with a furrowed brow. Before any awkward greeting could be produced from either of us Kadee screamed out. “Georgie, Georgie! Come look, it’s my new bike. Do you want to see?”
Georgie smiled at Kadee. “Let me just put these things in house, I’ll be out in a moment,” she said with little more than a glance at me.
Maybe she thought our kiss hadn’t been all that?
I recognized the bags from the local hardware store, more disasters awaited it seemed.
Kadee stubbornly wouldn't set off again until Georgie had returned, when she did we were ready to go again.
“Okay, let’s see what you’re made of, Kadee,” Georgie said standing at the side of the drive ahead of us.
Off we went again as I corrected the wobbles and kept her moving forwards.
“A quick question, Derek. Why is she dressed like a hockey goalie? Is this training for some sort of new extreme sport I’ve never heard of?” Georgie directed at me as we teetered past her.
“Mock all you want, but my little girl is not getting hurt. That’s not how I do things.”
“Looks like she’s a little too secure. If you’re not careful she might roll off down the street should she fall off what with all that padding. She can barely move, that’s not riding a bike.”
“How about you mind your own business?” I said with a scowl and went back to ignoring her, refocusing on my little cyclist. “How are you doing, sweetie?”
“Georgie’s right, I don't think this is riding a bike, you’re not letting go,” she replied with a sigh.
As if to prove her point, Kadee took her hands off the handlebar and tried to cross them across her well-protected, puffed out chest, but the padding wouldn’t let her elbows bend.
Behind me I heard a chuckle. I flashed a glare back at Georgie, her face only returned a look of smugness.
“She’s not a test pilot, Derek. She’s not on a rocket about to be shot off into space. Nothing’s going to happen, she just needs the chance to learn, and for you to let go,” Georgie called over as we came to a standstill again at the garage.
“Is that what happened with your sink is it?” I fired back, this woman was incorrigible. And yet my gaze kept slipping down to study her lips every time she opened her mouth. If only I had an excuse to shut her up with another kiss.
“Oh, you know fine well what happened with my sink!” Georgie countered, her eyes flashing, as she bit her lip. I almost groaned for wanting her. “Kadee honey, you should ask your dad if I can help you ride the bike tomorrow. I’ll show you how it’s really done.”
With that Georgie stormed off back across the street, slamming her front door behind her.
“Daddy, I’m tired now and really hot and sticky. I don't think I want to ride anymore today. Not like this.” She let out a big breath, her cheeks red.
“But, sweetie you’re doing great. We just have to take it slow so you don’t get hurt. A few more minutes?” Kadee shook her head. I buried the disappointment, this was not how I planned our day to go. There was nothing more I could do as Kadee took it upon herself to stumble off her shiny new bike then took it from my grasp, wheeling it back into the garage.
I had to remedy this, but how? I had to at least make things amicable again, this was getting rapidly out of hand. Kadee’s happiness was everything to me.
“Could I daddy?” Kadee looked up at me with the sadness of a lost puppy, “could I ride with Georgie tomorrow? Please?”
I pondered this for a minute, there was little reason to say no. If it would make my sweet girl happy while she was here, then maybe I should let some slack into the reins. I also had to admit deep down, a part of me did want to be near Georgie again.
“Okay, anything for you,” I said and pulled her into a hug. “But I think maybe I have some apologizing to do first. Let’s see what we can do about that shall we? How about a little trip into town?”
Chapter Eight
Georgie
Why was it that every time I saw that man I wanted to jump him, yet we instead get into some kind of shouting match? He was so far under my skin I didn’t think the itch would ever leave me. He had the audacity to kiss me in my own kitchen yesterday and then not even say hello. Well fine, I had other things to worry about. Because I knew I wasn’t just frustrated because of his attitude toward me.
Having an overprotective father could really dampen a girl's fun. Poor Kadee merely wanted to ride her bike, instead she looked like a tiny version of the Michelin Man. I remembered fondly the hours cycling around the military bases where my father was stationed. A girl needed her wheels, her freedom, even if it was on a secured, fenced-in site with soldiers keeping pace as you rode.
Granted Kadee wasn’t at that age yet, or even in the same predicament that I was. She was in a quiet, leafy cul-de-sac, where the only danger was a pothole in need of repairing. But if Derek was going to keep on wrapping her up in layers upon layers of cotton wool, strapping padding to her like she was part of the defensive line, she’d soon push back. Hard.
I slammed the front door, suffocating a scream. It rattled and with it the rest of the house. I slumped back against it and as if in response to my turbulent thoughts and the state of my mind, the wooden rack to hang coats and scarves besides the door that looked like it had been installed when the house was first built, clattered to the floor. A dusty shower of plaster snowed down on top of it. I screamed internally, was this whole place falling apart? Had I made a mistake coming here?
I kicked at the dead rack and headed for the dining room where my new purchases waited. Slamming doors, much like that damnable neighbor, may be best avoided.
Needing to occupy my hands, before I wrecked anything else, I emptied the bags, scattering my purchases from the hardware store across the dining room table. There was too much stuff I didn’t know what to do with, I’d bought with my heart instead of my head. I had also been busy buying decorative details I couldn’t resist but had little chance of putting to use yet.
Studying YouTube videos over the past couple of weeks had made everything look easy enough. But now in the face of the reality of it all, it felt overwhelming. There was so much to do. Maybe Derek was right; I didn’t know what I was doing and I didn't know where to start for the best. I hadn't even thought about the porch steps that still needed mending, and the kitchen was still drying out. This surprisingly expensive shopping trip was not going to make much of an impact. Only two days in and the costs were racking up.
Perhaps I shouldn't have spent quite as much on the new bed that was due to arrive later today, but as my aunt had always said, “if nothing else, always make sure you have a decent bed. After a good night’s sleep or a roll in the sack, you’ll be ready to tackle anything.” Doing the horizontal mambo wasn’t exactly part of my agenda when I bought the thing, even with the dreamy hunk across the street plaguing my thoughts. But I couldn't bare to sleep another night wrapped up in a sleeping-bag on top of thin sofa cushions.
Thinking of Aunt Dakota, and all of her timely advice, somehow revived my determination. I had to start somewhere today, even if it was something small.
Bite by bite, I would get there.
I did not have anything ready for tackling a serious job in the house. But as long as I got going, made a dent in my ever growing to-do list, however superficial, I would hopefully feel better. My mind jumped back to the new hole beside the front door, left by the rack. There was some logic to starting at the front door and working inwards. Before I could talk myself out of it, or let doubts creep in like territorial spiders, I grabbed up the necessary materials, wall filler, a smoothing spatula, damp cloth and got to work with renewed purpose.
After what seemed like hours I felt like I was not making much progress, but I was still standing. Teeth set and determined. Starting with the hole
the rack had left behind I’d worked around the room patching the walls as I went, smoothing over the rough finish and filling in holes left by picture-frame nails. I had to give myself some credit, it looked a little better. I also felt the weight lift ever so slightly from my burdened shoulders, like I had not only evened out the walls but also smoothed out the frayed edges of my current emotions.
Spying the tatty old shelf in the dining room, I pointed to it with my newly acquired crowbar. “Your time’s up!”
It had to go, I couldn't walk past it without scrunching up my nose like there was a bad smell. It had been fixed there with little care or attention with ugly miss matched materials.
It had obviously made itself at home there in its crooked position on the wall and was resistant to the idea of moving. The old rusty screws had given up on their purpose in life long ago and protested when I tried to pry them out. Even when everything that was seemingly holding the shelf to the wall had been removed, it clung there still as if it had fused with the house itself. I laughed, would I have to demolish a whole wall just to get rid of the thing?
“Don't look at me like that, you have to go! We tried the easy way, now for the hard way,” I said and plucked up a hammer.
I glared at it for a moment hoping it would finally give up, but I wasn’t so lucky. Tentatively at first, I whacked it, my hits getting more furious, rage and frustration channeling their way through the hammer till the point of impact.
But it didn’t move. I stood back exasperated and stared at the ugly thing. How was it still clinging on?
In desperation, I took a firm grip of the shelf, letting it bear my weight, and jiggled downward, pulling as hard as I could. At first it didn't budge, but with a final exertion it collapsed.
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