ME: Do you have plans this weekend?

JACK: You’ll find the answer to that question is pretty much always a no from me.

ME: That might be the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.

JACK: Gee, thanks.

ME: ANYWAY. Enough about you. Could I come by and do some weeding in the backyard? I’m already getting a late start with planting season and I want to get to it ASAP.

JACK: Sure thing. Is there anything we’ll need to hire professionals for?

ME: Possibly shrub removal, but I’ll take care of it.

JACK: Just let me know and I’ll cover the cost. Since you’re doing all the work and everything.

ME: Sounds good, I’ll see you Saturday.

JACK: I’ll get your key printed before then.

ME:

Five

I hoist my PLANT MOM tote bag higher on my shoulder as I knock on the bright red front door of the brownstone.

Jack answers almost immediately, wearing basically the exact same thing he did on our “date,” only today his ripped jeans are topped with a Super Mario Bros. shirt, I’m assuming in an unironic fashion. His hair still hangs loose and wild, covering the parts of his face not already hidden by his glasses.

He flashes me something between a grimace and a smirk, gesturing for me to enter.

“Good morning,” I say, once he’s made it clear he won’t be kicking off this conversation.

“Morning. Did you find the place okay? I mean, you’ve been here before obviously, but this is your first time coming here by yourself.” He shuffles backward a few steps and shoves his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah, it was fine. I’m not one of those Manhattanites who never sets foot in the other boroughs; I know my way around Brooklyn. Sort of.”

“Cool.”

“Indeed.” I wait for a second, pretty sure he has no plan to speak but not wanting to fully dominate the conversation. I’m low-key afraid he’s going to tear up our lease if he realizes that I typically never shut up, especially since he seems like the quiet type. “Well, I guess I’ll just head to the yard.”

“Oh. Yeah. Of course.” He clears his throat. “Are you going to need any help with anything?”

“Nah. It’ll mostly be weeding today, so I should be able to handle it. It’s basically free therapy.” Emphasis on the “free” since losing my job also meant losing my health care. Yay America.

“Great. Well. I guess just let me know if you need any help.” He gives me a weird little half wave.

Which I mistakenly interpret as his offering a high five. I go to slap his hand just as he pulls his back and good lord, this is painful.

I brush past him and head to the French doors leading out to the yard, desperate for a quick escape. “Okay, then.”