Chapter 10

My faith was crushed. I changed the prices of every damn article of clothing I had for sale. Not one sold yesterday. Not one. I was more pissed that he was right than not making any money. What money I will make won't be much anyway. I lowered the price of everything to a couple dollars. Yes. Just a few dollars for real designer stuff. People are either just cheap or stupid.

Day two of the sale, Blake and I were each sitting in a lawn chair behind a little table where the money box was. People started buying my clothes right away now that they were just a few bucks. However, I was more focused on Garrett. He was antsy and bored – and honestly, so was I. Not to mention, I would hate for Garrett to have a boring weekend. Especially when I knew my time with him might be numbered. Ugh, just the thought felt like a punch in the gut.

So, to solve out bored-ness, I did the unthinkable: I went to a few garage sales.

Garrett and I walked up the road, went to the park, and on the way back, stopped at the other garage sales. I was not impressed by any of it. It was all old and used stuff I would never purchase. Honestly, it was hard hiding my disgusted expression. I reluctantly bought a few toys Garrett wanted, which I would wash later – but hell no to any used clothes he wanted. I drew the line there.

We headed back towards Blake's house. In the hour or so we were gone, someone took my chair next to him. It was Sherman. The bird wasn't as scary to Garrett as it was to me.

"Wow! Mom, look! Mom, look, it's a parrot! Look!" he shouted, super excited. He ran right up to it, startling the bird enough to squeal and jump up onto Blake's shoulder. "I didn't know you had a parrot!"

Blake was lounged back in the chair, smiling to Garrett. "His name is Sherman."

"Can I pet him?" he asked.

"Sure," Blake said, "Only if your mom sits back down."

I stood a good few feet away from them. Sorry, but I wasn't brave like Garrett. Which is why I raised my eyebrows at Blake. "You want me to sit down? Next to you? While the bird is on your shoulder?" If I sat down, that bird would be in pecking-zone. How lame would it be to die from a bird during garage sale weekend?

"It's an insane idea, I know, but I don't think the world will end," he teased.

Jaw tightening, I contemplated it for a second. Seeing Garrett stare at me, waiting with such excitement though.... Ugh! The kid better fucking brag about his mom for doing this shit. Giving Blake a glare, I stepped closer... until I was next to the empty chair. My eyes met with Sherman's deep and adorable ones. He was such a cute fluffy bird... but that could just be a disguise.

"Mom, sit down, it won't hurt you."

Leaning my torso back, I slowly lowered my body... and awkwardly inched closer and turned until I sat back down. Holy fuck, the bird was directly next to me on Blake's shoulder. "Happy?" I mumbled. "Now pet the damn bird, Garrett."

Garrett laughed at my discomfort and reached forward. He gently pet the top of the birds feathery head. It cocked it's head and squeaked a couple times, leaning into the touch of of my son's hand. Sherman was clearly loving it. It was actually extremely cute.

"He loves being pet. Here," Blake said, reaching up towards the bird. He guided Sherman down to his lap. Which weirdly gave the bird permission to roll over on it's back. Laying on Blake's thighs, Sherman cocked his head and looked up to his owner, as if waiting to be pet. "The sweet spot is his belly," Blake said, rubbing the birds stomach. Like a damn dog!

"That's cool!" Garrett said, reaching down and taking over the bird belly rub. It made Sherman purr loudly.

It was honestly the coolest thing I've seen in a while. I've never seen anything like it. It enticed me to slowly lean over and get a closer look.

Blake smiled at my cautioned interest. "Would you like to pet Sherman? I promise, he won't bite or hurt you."

It took a second, but I complied after Garrett was done. I rubbed Sherman's white feathery belly and made the bird squeak and purr in enjoyment. "I'm scared he is loving this a little too much." Maybe the thing wouldn't kill me after all.

The bird won my son's attention. As the sale continued, Garrett sat in the grass, next to us, and continued petting and playing with Sherman. All the people walking through the sale were intrigued too. Some of them already knew Blake and stopped to talk to him. What a surprise.

One of the people that approached and visited with Blake had a clipboard. I wanted to know what it was for. And as the minutes passed, neither of them mentioned anything that would indicate what the clipboard was for. It bothered me enough to interrupt their small talk.

"I'm sorry, but I need to ask what the clipboard is for," I laughed.

The gentleman was probably in his 40s. Thankfully he wasn't offended that I asked. "It's to sign up for the fishing tournament. I brought it with me while checking out the garage sales. Folks like McCormick here are obvious contenders."

"Damn right," Blake said, grabbing the clip board and signed the sheet of paper.

"Fishing? No way! Can I sign up?" Garrett said, pausing in petting Sherman.

The man gave him a sorry look. "Sorry, it's just for adults."

"Mom! Mom, will you do it?"

Fuck no mom will not. "I'm sorry buddy, I don't think so."

"Why not? Please. Pretty please mom, you would be super cool."

I scoffed. "Aren't I super cool already?"

"This will help," he laughed.

I really did not want to, but his excitement over it was appealing. Blake sure had no problem pushing me for it either. "Ruth, why not? You used to fish all the time you said. know you would enjoy it."

Oh that asshole. I glared at him for a long second. "It's been a while."

This was going to suck so bad, but I wanted to make my son happy. I felt like I owed it to him after everything and I just wanted to make him happy while I still can. Doesn't mean I have to be happy about the whole thing.

With a sharp inhale, I snagged the clipboard and jotted my name down. Blake was smiling and Garrett did a victorious fist pump. Christ, I needed a cigarette.

"Now you are super cool, mom."

"Better be," I mumbled, digging the Pall Malls out from my purse.

***

I was constantly anxious. Constantly. The weekends were the worst. I mean they were amazing because I had Garrett, but the stress and anxiety that he would have to leave, that I would see Matt, was always there. This weekend, it was twice as painful.

Sunday, the last day of the sale, Matt showed up early to claim Garrett. It was only 1:00. Blake was talking to a gentleman about some of his tools for sale. I was sitting on a blanket in the lawn, watching my son play with the bird a couple feet away. Garrett was dragging a toy through the grass, making us laugh as Sherman chased it.

However, I noticed in my side-vision... a car pulled into my driveway across the street. It was Matt's car. My heart dropped.

"Your dad is early," I whispered. Why? What did this mean? Why would he rob me of the rest of the day with my son? Swallowing, I said, "Go put Sherman back on the chair."

"Okay," he sighed.

A few minutes later, we walked across the street. Matt stepped out of the car and gave Garrett a huge hug. There was a heavy pit in my stomach as I hugged my boy goodbye. The fact that Matt didn't say a word to me before they left made it worse. The reminder of all the drama... I wanted to cry.

I didn't hesitate to head into my house. I could just imagine every nosy loser that was watching me. I'm sure Blake was watching me. All of the neighbors outside watching, wondering about my life, judging me. None of them would see me break though. So, I headed in swiftly after they left, and shed a couple tears. Why would he do this? Why pick him up so early? Was Matt trying to gradually remove Garrett from my life? Make it easier once it's permanent?

Deep breaths helped, but the pain didn't go away. It was fresh and at the surface, even after I calmed down. I could only imagine everyone talking. Stupid country people. It would be better to go back to the sale and pretend as if nothing happened.

After I fixed my make-up, sucking it up, I returned to Blake's garage sale. It clouded up and started sprinkling when I left the house. By the time I was sitting next to Blake again, it was pouring outside. Most people left. Every couple minutes, someone would stop in despite the rain.

The whole time, we just sat there in silence. I knew he was judging me, assuming stuff, and probably wondering a lot of things too. I was grateful he didn't say anything though.

He put Sherman inside. And when he returned, it was with a pack of licorice. He started snacking on it while the rain clattered against the tent above us. He silently handed me one. There was no taste, but that was my fault. I couldn't relax.

I stared mindlessly before me at the tables. Currently, there was nobody. Just us, the rain, and silence. I couldn't help how quiet I was – not like I could fool him anyway. Eventually, Blake finally broke the silence and rain pattering against the tent above us.

"Ruth?"

"What?" I asked sharply.

He was so pretty and sweet with those eyes, watching me with pursed lips. He sat up, turned towards me, and gave me his full attention. Then, he said something I didn't expect. "You are materialistic, cold, stubborn, and prissy."

"I... I am not...." Well, I was most those things. "I am not that stubborn."

"But you are also a wonderful mother," he said, staring deeper into my eyes.

Dangerous grounds, asshole. I rolled my eyes. Hearing that was more irritating than him calling me cold and materialistic. Because unlike his first words, the last were wrong. I was absolutely a shitty mother. "You... you don't know—"

"I know you love your son. I know you work your ass off and you do everything to make him happy." He paused, sighing. "I don't know a lot and am not asking to know. I just... want you to know I think you are a great mother. I think you deserve better than whatever you're going through."

Wrong. I deserved everything, every ounce of shit that was dropped on me. He didn't know shit. And him telling me I was a great mom... like he fucking knew my life... it pissed me off.

Sure, I was happy Blake didn't pry, happy he didn't ask anything. However, it was embarrassing, just hearing him say these things. Like he felt bad for poor little me. And it was frustrating! He didn't know shit and he shouldn't think of me in any positive way! Who the fuck does he think he is? Assuming I'm a good mother based on what? Loving my son doesn't mean I was a good mom because I was not!

"I love how you just assume shit about me—"

"Ruth," he said, in a much nicer voice than mine. "It's not like I have a choice when you aren't willing to share anything with me."

"I am so fucking glad I decided to come back over here," I scowled. Then, like the prissy and cold bitch I knew I was, I stood up and stormed home through the rain.

So yeah... good way to wrap up garage sale weekend.

As the rest of my evening progressed, my temper decreased and sadness rose back up to where it was earlier. For the second time that day, I broke down crying. I wasn't sure if I blamed Matt or Blake for my stupid break down. Then again, I was just more emotional in general lately.

Weekends were the only time I got to see Garrett, and soon enough, I might not even get that. So, by the end of the day, I happily blamed Matt for my breakdowns. Unlike Blake, who was just trying to be sweet, Matt was intentionally hurting me.

Wonder how many more breakdowns it would take to get me to remove this wedding ring. Probably more than I wanted unfortunately.

Before I went to bed, my phone buzzed. I got a text from Blake: "Hey, I wanted to say that I am sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to upset you. I boxed up the things you didn't sell, so you can grab them tomorrow. I'll give you the money you made too. 108 dollars. Not bad. Have a goodnight."

***

This week, we worked on filling the dirt driveways with gravel. Yes, gravel and not cement, which I vocalized not being happy about. But hey, anything was better than dirt I guess.

Blake gave all his tenants a heads-up over the weekend that we would be working on their driveways. So, they all parked their vehicles in the road for a couple days. Before the gravel was delivered, we did a few things first. Blake and I raked and evened out all the dirt of the driveways. After that, we laid out black fabric along the dirt to help control the weeds and dirt from interfering with the gravel.

It was as shitty as you could imagine. Since it rained over the weekend, the dirt was mainly mud. Yes, mud. It was a rough Monday to say the least. There was mud up to my ankles, I was full of sweat, and there was dried splattered mud over my legs. When we were done, I hosed the mud off me. Hosed. Like an animal. Blake reassured me that the next day when the gravel arrives, it wouldn't be as muddy. He's lucky he was right. Another day of mud, I would have called it quits.

However, less mud didn't make it less difficult.

First thing Tuesday morning, a rusty dump truck arrived. The bed was filled to the top with gravel. The driver got out to greet Blake. He was bald with a long ginger beard. They clearly knew each other. "How's it going man?" he said, giving Blake a stern handshake.

"Not too bad, keeping busy if you couldn't tell."

"Apparently. They said you called and ordered enough to keep us in business for a while."

Blake smiled. "Yeah, figured it was time to do something with the driveways. Anyway, this is Ruth; she'll be helping me."

The man glanced to me then gave a cocky glance back to Blake. "You're having this angel do your dirty work? She's dressed for a night out, not hard labor."

I was wearing a purple camisole and studded jean shorts. Which by the way had some paint stained on them. Sure, I still had make-up on and looked nice, but come on, I was doing better!

He introduced himself as Dan and was nice enough. After some small talk, Blake instructed him to unload the gravel into the first three driveways on the road. After there were large piles of gravel in three driveways, the man left. Dan would reload his truck and be back later with more gravel for the other driveways. For now though... it was our turn to get to work.

We each grabbed a metal rake from Blake's garage and headed up to the first driveway. The pile of gravel needed to be dispersed and leveled, so that's what we did. Well, that's what I tried doing. Raking at the large gravel pile, I could hardly see. Dirt and dust polluted the air as we spread the gravel out. Somehow, I was the only one coughing.

I figured the dirt and dust would settle, but it didn't. I kept coughing, harder. After a few minutes of nonstop coughing, I dropped my rake and walked out of the cloud. Hope Blake makes it out alive.

"What are you doing?" he asked. I could see him well enough through the white cloud.

Coughing into my arm, feeling already grimy and dirty, I shook my head. "It's too much."

"Well, don't breathe it in, genius," he chuckle, extending his rake into the pile and spread more gravel out.

"I'm human; I gotta breathe man!"

"The dust will settle out more, don't worry."

Sure enough, the more he spread it out, the more the dust settled. I wasn't coughing like before However, after the first hour, my arms were already sore. I was getting tired, it was hard, and after a while, just boring. Maybe it was because I've been moody, maybe it was because it was harder than the other projects, but I whined a good chunk of the time.

We moved onto the second driveway. It was as hard as the first. Also, like the first, it was extremely dusty when we first started raking out the pile. Standing at the base of the pile with Blake, I was coughing over and over. Nonstop as I raked and spread out the gravel. I didn't stop coughing, and this time, the dust surrounding us started to burn my eyes. Nope. Sorry. Peace out.

I dropped my rake and stumbled away, still coughing. I wasn't an alien like Blake who could just keep working through all the debris. Sorry I wasn't perfect. Standing in the lawn, I watched Blake continue. It pissed me off. Why couldn't he struggle? He coughed maybe twice so I guess I'll take that as a victory.

He kept raking at the pile, spreading it around the driveway. "Ruth, I don't think you are going to die."

"I think I am."

He was clearly getting annoyed with me. Just as I was with him. He didn't respond, which riled me up more. He just continued standing at the base of the gravel pile, spreading it out more over the bare driveway. He was acting like I was throwing a fit over nothing. I guess he expected me to be invincible.

"Fine! I'll suffer and choke on the dirt. Whatever," I said, marching over the uneven driveway towards him with narrowed eyes. "It's okay if I don't breathe, it's not like breathing is important or—"

Wham!

Just as I reached Blake, I stepped on the prongs of the rake I set down earlier. It launched the rake handle from where it was partially buried in the gravel that Blake spread out. It slammed into the side of my head, very hard, making my head explode with pain.

Grunting and yelping loudly, my eyes went wide at the same time Blake's did! Then they shut in agony! Ugh! Sharp and intense pain pulsed through the side of my head. Call me a baby, but that wooden handle hit really damn hard! Enough to make me start to wobble and nearly drop as I cupped my head.

"Damn Ruth," Blake groaned, and I felt his strong hands encircle me. They held me to him, forcing me to stay steady. Unfortunately, I was in too much pain to fully enjoy the moment of him holding me. Maybe next time I'll just have to pretend I got really hurt.

Regardless, I still doubled over the sides of his arms. Groaning, my eyes were still clamped shut. I didn't stop cupping my head. Fuck, it hurt so bad! Hit so hard. Blake shifted his arms back and grabbed my shoulders. He helped guide me until I felt us reach the lawn.

He helped lower me to the ground. Opening my eyes finally, breathing sharply, he knelt down in front of me. His eyes were full of concern and care. Pursing his lips, he cupped my head and leaned in, getting a closer look. Immediately, I had a massive headache. If only headaches could shut up my brain. Blake's caring eyes and heart-shaped face this close to mine... I liked it more than I should've. Including his hands over mine against my head.

"That must have hurt like a bitch," he said.

Breathing hard, wincing, I scoffed. "Nope, not a bit."

Keeping me sitting up, he pressed one hand to my back. He shuffled around to the side I was hit and looked closer. Basically holding and cradling me up to him, but whatever. It's not like my heart was going crazy now. Enough that I didn't even mind that he was messing my hair up.

He moved some of the strands aside to look closer. By now, the pain turned into just throbbing stings. It allowed me to focus on his face more. His sweet and caring bearded face, facial hair just long enough without it being too bushy. I didn't understand. Why did I like that? Why did I like him so much?

His large frame held me up and I couldn't look away. His longish hair brushed against his face from the slight breeze. I just wanted to touch it... run my hand through that and the hair along his jaw too. It looked coarse, the short little hairs that covered his face. It didn't hide his pursed lips though, which mirrored how concerned he was. I watched his soft eyes guide along my head. I would love to know what he was thinking.... Probably nothing along the lines of what I was thinking.

"Yeah, you'll have a decent size bump there," he said, after a moment of inspecting it. "I'm going to grab some ice for it. I'll be right back."

Thank god he left. It forced me to snap that moment of desire out of me. When he returned, he knelt back down with a towel and clear bag of ice. "I have to give you credit," he said, pressing the ice carefully against my head.

Legs stretched out, my arm propping me up, I winced. "Credit?"

"Yeah for purposefully stepping on the rake," he smirked. "Went all out just so you could get out of working."

I laughed. "Well, you weren't listening to me."

Chuckling, he took my free hand and guided it to the ice pack. I took over holding it in place. For a split second though, his eyes caught mine. They searched my gaze, making my heart jump. It lasted for a long moment – not like I was complaining. His smile returned, making me immediately happy to see it.

After a few more moments sitting in the grass (with me contemplating what the fuck that long ass stare was about), Blake got back to work. He let me rest for a bit since my headache was still there. And yes, maybe I milked my time sitting in the grass. So what? Sure, maybe I also had a cigarette while I was 'healing.' Sue me.

Even though I did get back to work, I couldn't help but take more notice of him. That long glance we shared had a lasting affect. If I was being honest though, it was much more than that. Every interaction with him drew me further in. Let's just hope the heat was getting to me because I couldn't afford to start thinking like a love-struck idiot.

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Uh-oh... starting to like Mr. Landlord more! I would love to hear some of your thoughts of predictions! Got a lot planned and am excited to post more soon! Thank you very much for taking the time to read my work:)