Strong Enough

I nodded, taking it all in. “Your family is religious?”

“My parents are. I’m not, not really. But I went to Catholic schools. I was an altar boy and all that. I don’t necessarily agree with everything the Church says and does, but when you’ve had the doctrine drilled into you for that long, at home and at school, some of it sticks with you, whether you want it to or not.”

“Ah.”

“I like some of its basic ideas,” Derek continued, “the value of human life, the importance of family and community, the obligation to help others.”

“I can tell both you and your sister like to help others.”

He seemed a little embarrassed by the compliment, his cheeks coloring. “What about your family? Are you close?”

“To my mother, yes. I barely know my dad.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. He and my mother were really young when they had me, and he took off soon after.”

“What about your sister?”

“Different father. But that guy took off too.”

“Fuck. Guess your mom really has a type.”

“Yeah. I feel bad for her. I think she always wanted that perfect family.”

He didn’t say anything after that, and I wondered if he was thinking that she should have controlled her feelings more. Not acted on them when it was clear she wouldn’t end up happy. But I didn’t really get that—how could you help acting on your feelings? What else was there to act on?

A few minutes later, we arrived at his house. “Dammit,” he said, slowing down as he pulled into the drive.

“What’s the matter?”

“I just noticed the landscapers didn’t show again. They were supposed to come this morning. I don’t know why I give these assholes a second chance.”

“What do you need done?”

He made a noise. “Everything. And I can do some of it, but I inherited these fucking rose bushes with the house that are more high-maintenance than a beautiful woman. And if I didn’t like the way they looked so much, I’d tear them the hell out.”

“I can take care of it.”

He looked at me like I was nuts. “You have landscaping experience too?”

I shrugged. ?

??I’ve had a lot of different jobs. And growing up, I spent every summer at my grandparents’ country house, and I helped take care of the gardens there. And yes, we had roses. My grandmother treated them like babies.”

“You have roses in Russia?”

“Yes, Derek.” I laughed, enjoying the feel of his name in my mouth. “It’s not snow and ice all the time there. We do have sun and warmth in summer.”

“Sorry.” He grimaced as he pulled into the garage. “I promise to get over my preconceived ideas about where you come from.”

“And I promise to help you out around here and then get out of your way in two weeks.”

Derek turned off the car. “You’re not in my way.”

We sat there in the darkened car for a moment, and I thought he was going to say something else, but he didn’t.

There were more flowerbeds and gardens in the backyard. Derek stood in the driveway frowning at all of them before checking his watch. “Fuck, it’s two o’clock already, and I haven’t even gone to the store yet. I might not be able to use the patio tonight. It’s all weedy and overgrown back here.”