―Cassandra Clare
Watcher
Everything wants to live―weeds, plants, trees―even us, escaping to the country to hide from the Beast.
I'm surprised the vegetable garden survived―well, no thanks to me, but help from our neighbours whom I've never seen, but soon will. They said they'd be back to settle up for what they took. I'd prefer they didn't but if they're friendly I'd rather not alienate them either.
You don't know who you'll need in an emergency and if they've lived here a while chances are they have nothing to do with the Beast and the cabal. Seems I'm eventually going to have to meet them.
Lucky me.
"I worked out a schedule," Brooke announces while we're eating breakfast. "I don't know about you guys, but because of the emergency, I lose track of the days of the week."
"Good idea," Angelica pipes up, "without my cell phone and iCal I'm lost―count me in."
"Me too, I guess," I add half-heartedly. "But I've never been one for schedules and time management is my one weak point―Okay, one among many."
"Well, consider it professional development," Brooke smiles sweetly.
Yeah, the girl has perfected the art of sarcasm. With a knowing glance, raised eyebrow or just a choice word, she can separate the head from the body while leaving both intact.
And this is what has endeared her to me...Not!
The girl is on a roll.
"I thought during the day we could work on the vegetable garden and get things in order to survive the winter, then in the evenings we could go through Tom Faraday's thick file of notes and try to make a summary of what he found out."
"Hey, hold on," I jump in. "it's one thing to make a schedule and it's another thing to decide priorities."
"Really, Zach?" she says, legs apart and arms akimbo as she stops cooking to glare at me. "And I suppose details like making food and cleaning are woman's work and leave you free to do what you want?"
I'm thinking right now it's not just demons who are watching and trying to control me.
Angelica quickly intervenes, "Look guys, we have an over-abundance of time. During the course of the day we'll be able to get everything done. The order doesn't matter as long as we work on the file in the evenings."
"You're right," I say colouring, abashed at my sudden flare-up.
"I was only trying to organize us," Brooke says, tearing up, "I didn't mean to assume control."
Angelica puts an arm around her, "We know you were only trying to help and we both appreciate it." She looks at me for support.
I take my cue. "I'm sorry, Brooke, for getting angry. If anybody was trying to control things it was me. After breakfast, I'll clean up and wash the dishes. Are we good?"
"I suppose so―mind you, you could also sweep the floor."
Angelica smiles at me.
"Fair enough," I sigh, But don't get carried away."
"Wouldn't dream of it," she smiles sweetly.
Living with two women, I muse, who thought it would be easy?