Chapter_13

In the morning Rosie awoke to the ambient sounds of yard work. She was surprised to see Jordan doing the work, using a rake they had trashed, only for it to be salvaged by Dylan and Lark, only to be, it seemed, lent back to Jordan. He ushered the leaves into a pile in the corner of the yard, then lifted his shirt to wipe his face, revealing the sculpted contours of his abs.

Dylan and Lark had taken the outbuilding’s front door off its hinges and were now tending to it on sawhorses.

Rosie FaceTimed Alice.

“How do they have the energy for all that?” Alice said. “And are you OK with it?” She shaded her eyes with one hand, her Rainbow Futures vest flapping in the wind.

“They can’t possibly be making it worse,” Rosie said.

“Can you ask them to see it?”

“No! I don’t want to be their weird landlord.”

“You’re right, nobody likes a weird landlord. Damien’s old landlord once showed up to one of his basketball games.”

“Anyway,” Rosie said, “I doubt they would be interested in a friendship with me—us—even if we weren’t their landlords.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. They just seem so... cool. Like they’ve never felt self-conscious in their lives. And Dylan, the way she dresses—look—” She flipped the phone camera around so it was pointing at Dylan and Lark across the yard.

“I can’t see them,” Alice said. “They’re too tiny. Like little industrious LEGOs. But I do see what’s happening here. You have a crush.” An ambulance siren blared, and Alice pressed a finger to her ear.

“No,” Rosie said, “it’s not like that. Anyway, they’re both cool—”

“Sure, well, your voice just went up like an octave.”

“No, no.” Rosie shook her head.

“Convincing argument,” Alice said. “You should invite them over for dinner.”

“Really? That’s not a weird landlord move?”

“No. And it’s a good way to get over a crush. You know a crush just means you don’t know enough about a person. It’s why I refuse to learn Damien’s shoe size or his middle name or what he was like in high school.”

“Really?”

“No!”

“How do I ask them?”

“Rosie.” Alice laughed. “Go outside and talk to them. Bring them a coffee or something. Oh god, the Egg is coming.”

As soon as Alice hung up, Rosie redownloaded Instagram. She searched for Dylan Shepherd, spelling Dylan’s last name every way imaginable. She searched for Lark but couldn’t find her either. Out the window, Dylan flipped the door over on the sawhorses and drank from her metal water bottle.

Did Dylan and Lark take milk in their coffee? Were they vegans? Was Rosie stereotyping them? In the kitchen she picked out her two favorite mugs: speckled enamel camping mugs—one green, one blue—which she’d bought from Instagram, and poured two cups of coffee.

The field was thick and overgrown, its long grasses now a dusty yellow. The air had an electric quality. A family of small, yellow, chubby birds perched noisily in a forsythia bush beside the house. Justin lay next to Dylan’s truck, chewing his paw, and stood to greet Rosie, navigating around her legs. Rosie focused on not spilling the coffee as she approached Dylan and Lark. “Good morning,” she said.

“That’s nice of you, Rosie.” Dylan took a mug. “Hope we didn’t wake you. We got started pretty early. Justin, place,” she said, snapping her fingers once. Justin reclaimed his spot by the truck.

Rosie handed the other mug to Lark.

“Oh!” Lark said.

“Not a coffee drinker?”

“Am I that transparent?” Lark laughed.

Rosie started to respond but was interrupted by the sound of an electric leaf blower. Jordan had ditched the rake. He wore his AirPods and a pair of sunglasses and aimed the machine back and forth, herding the leaves into a pile while simultaneously blowing the pile back out into the yard. He saw Rosie and waved. He seemed happy to abandon his task and left the blower in the middle of the yard. “Ooh, did you make me a coffee?” he said. He took the mug meant for Lark and kissed Rosie on the cheek.

“So...” he said, winded and invigorated, “busy, busy! What have you guys been up to?” He was looking at Lark.

“We’re restoring the door to its original condition,” Lark said. Her voice was light and glassy.

“And I’m treating the mold,” Dylan said.

“Cool, cool,” Jordan said. He took a step closer to Lark. “So how’d you do this?” He ran his hand along the wood. “Just some sanding? I kind of liked the white paint!” He said this last part with an air of mock outrage. “Is white out of style?”

Lark started to answer, but Jordan sneezed loudly several times in a row. “Sorry,” he said. “Dogs.”

Dylan sipped her coffee, watching Jordan.

“You said you’re treating mold?” Rosie said to Dylan. She wondered whether the mold was black mold and whether she and Jordan could be sued. “Are you sure you’re OK doing that? Maybe we could help?”

“It’s easy enough,” Dylan said. “How about you two?” She was looking at Rosie.

“How about what?” Rosie said.

“How are you settling in? Must be a big change.”

“It is,” Rosie said, looking at Jordan. “But it’s so nice to have the space and the fresh air. My best friend is kind of a city person, and she thinks we’re going to be attacked by a bear.”

Dylan considered this. “It’s not unheard of. You should keep an eye out. One of our friends left french fries in her truck overnight and a black bear got into it.”

“I would honestly kill someone for a Big Mac right now,” Jordan said.

“I don’t think that was the point of that story,” Rosie said.

A station wagon pulled into the driveway and slowed to a stop beside the four of them. The bass from the stereo thumped through the closed windows. Inside, a group of women sang along to the chorus, which Rosie recognized, vaguely, from her childhood. The driver turned down the music and lowered her window. She had a tight fade and wore Ray-Ban sunglasses and a leather bracelet. “Hey,” she said, “we might be a little lost. Do you know where the Bakker Estate is?”

“This is—this is the Bakker Estate,” Rosie said.

The driver looked at her phone, then up at the house. “Oh,” she said. “Do we need tickets to walk around?”

“There is a suggested donation of ten dollars,” Jordan said.

The woman reached for her wallet.

“Um...” Dylan said. “That’s not...”

“He’s kidding,” Rosie said. “You can park at the top of the driveway.”

“Hey!” Jordan said. “I could have used that to buy a single cabbage at the general store.”

The car pulled up the driveway, and the group spread out onto the lawn. They unpacked a picnic and pulled out their phones to capture the view. Two of them lay in each other’s arms in the field, a pose Rosie recognized from the Lise Bakker painting.

“This has been happening,” Rosie said to Dylan and Lark.

“Oh, yeah,” Dylan said. “Part of the package, I’d imagine. It’s a local landmark.”

“This is what we’re learning,” Rosie said.

“It’s a beautiful property. Though I’m sure the repairs must be overwhelming.”

Jordan looked at Rosie. “We actually haven’t started yet,” he said.

“I wouldn’t wait too long.” Dylan sipped from her mug. “Just judging from the outside.”

“Well, we’d love to have you over inside the house.” Rosie glanced at Jordan. “Maybe for dinner? Like a little housewarming? Of course, we can also stay out of your way if you want. But if you wanted to see inside...”

Jordan sneezed again.

Dylan and Lark shared a look. “Sure,” Dylan said. “Tonight?” She drained her coffee. Rosie watched it move down her throat. “Can I give that back to you?” She handed Rosie the empty mug.

“Tonight’s good,” Rosie said. She moved her thumb along the rim of the mug, feeling the cool wetness. “Right, Jordan?”

“I’ll have to check my extremely busy schedule,” Jordan said. “Between having no friends or family within a hundred miles and no job, I have a lot of obligations to navigate.”

Rosie put a hand on his shoulder. “We’re adjusting, as you can see.”

“Can we give you a hand?” Jordan said.

“With what?”

“With, I don’t know, the work you’re doing?”

“If either of you knows how to work with a circular saw, then definitely,” Dylan said.

“Oh...” Rosie turned to Jordan. “I’m not sure either of us has ever...”

Dylan winked at her. Rosie’s gut wrung itself out.

“What time?” Dylan said.

Jordan dug into his pocket and reported the time.

“I mean for dinner tonight.”

The moment they stepped inside the house, Jordan turned to Rosie. “How are we going to get through this dinner?”

“What do you mean?”

“They clearly don’t like me,” Jordan said.

“What are you talking about?”

“That was so awkward. They were so cold.”

“Were they?”

“They were laughing at us the whole time! Making fun of us for not being able to use power tools.”

“I don’t think it was like that,” Rosie said. “And they were right, we don’t know how to use power tools.”

“Did I say something offensive?” Jordan said. “I don’t think I did.”

“No,” Rosie said.

“So I was normal out there?”

“Yeah. I mean, you did call them ‘guys’ again.”

“Is that bad?”

“Not bad. It’s just not a gender-neutral term. If it was anything, maybe it was that.”

“I think it would be ridiculous to be upset about that.”

“I really don’t think they were cold,” Rosie said. “I think it’s fine.”

“And was it my imagination, or was she totally flirting with you?”

“Who?” Rosie’s face suddenly got hot.

“Dylan!”

“I mean, both of our partners were standing right there,” Rosie said. “I wouldn’t read into it. She probably just winks sometimes.”

“Wait, she winked at you?” Jordan’s eyes widened.

“I might be wrong—”

“And it’s a Wednesday!” Jordan said.

“So?”

“So? Why aren’t they working like normal people?”

“I don’t know,” Rosie said. “We’re not working.”

“It’s different!” Jordan said. “We’re landlords. And my work with Noguchi isn’t, like, a nine-to-five.”

“Well, maybe their work isn’t nine-to-five either.”

“Hard to picture either of them at a desk,” Jordan said. He looked out the window. “Should we have asked for a deposit for that dog? Do you think they got the dog together, like as a practice kid?”

“Why don’t we find out together over dinner?” Rosie said. She kissed him lightly on his cheek. “You can demand answers to all your burning questions.”