Classics in Summertime

It wasn’t until the next day that I saw Dylan again. I was outside pulling a few weeds in my mom’s garden when I felt him standing over me, blocking the sun’s rays from hitting the back of my neck with his shadow. I didn’t know who it was until I turned around and saw him smiling down at me.

“Hard at work, I see.” He was chuckling a bit as he slid his hands in his pockets, and I stood up next to him, wiping my dirty hands against the front of my jeans, though it did little to wipe away the soil. “You’re not too busy, are you?”

I smiled at him and shook my head, dropping my hand shovel down next to the plants. “No, not at all. Did you need something?”

“Actually, I –”

“Everly, how’s the garden coming?”

Dylan wasn’t able to finish his statement before my dad was interrupting him, shouting from the other side of the house. He hadn’t seen Dylan yet, and I thought briefly about throwing Dylan into the bushes so he wouldn’t have to face my dad, but that seemed like an awful lot of explaining I’d have to do later.

“It’s good, dad,” I shouted back, hoping it would keep him from rounding the corner. “I’m almost done.”

It was a hopeless case, though, because my dad came forward just a few seconds later, his hands greasy and carrying an old handkerchief. He rubbed his hands against his face, which only succeeded in making him an even bigger mess.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he approached Dylan and I and wiped his hands again.

“Dylan, sir,” Dylan said simply, taking a step forward to shake my dad’s hand. He declined though, which he attributed to the fact that his hands were covered in grease, though Dylan wouldn’t have cared. “I just moved in down the road.”

“Oh, you’re the one with the fancy car. How much horsepower has it got?”

Dylan chuckled, shrugging his shoulders as he put his hands back in his pockets. “I must admit I don’t know, sir. I just bought it.”

“My truck’s got 360,” my dad said as he rubbed his hands thoroughly on his handkerchief before shoving it in the front pocket of his shirt. “Might not be pretty but it runs good.”

I had no idea why my dad thought Dylan would want to talk about cars and horsepower, but I imagined it had something to do with his attempt at scaring the piss out of Dylan, which he was certainly doing to me.

“You plan on starting up a farm, boy?” My dad continued, looking at Dylan with his lips pressed together. He was giving him the same look he’d given Wyatt on the first day he’d met him, though that quickly disappeared with how well they got along.

“I don’t know, sir, but if I do it probably won’t be anytime soon. I might get a couple animals and start a small garden, but nothing too serious.”

“Well, what’s the point in buying up a good piece of land if you aren’t gonna use it for what it’s built for?”

“Dad,” I interrupted, hoping to cut off the conversation before my dad ripped Dylan a new one. I could see where he was going, and it wasn’t going to be good.

“It’s okay, Ev.” Dylan turned to me briefly before looking back at my father. “I’m still getting settled in right now and the house needs a lot of work before I do anything else. I’m taking my time, though. Just enjoying everything the area has to offer.”

My dad didn’t seem pleased by Dylan’s answer, but he didn’t press forward. Instead, he turned his attention away from Dylan and back towards me, looking at me with his eyes small.

“Everly, you better go check on your mom and see if she needs help in the kitchen.” My dad turned away from me and back towards Dylan. “And you better head home and get to some of that work you were talking about – leave Everly to do her chores.”

“Yes, of course, sir,” Dylan said quickly, nodding his head. “It was a pleasure to meet you.”

My dad said nothing else before he began walking towards the barn, most likely to grab a tool of some sort that he needed. After watching to make sure he was out of sight, I turned back to Dylan, biting my lip tightly.

“I’m sorry about that,” I said softly as I gave Dylan a pained smile. “He’s a little difficult sometimes.”

“It’s okay, really,” Dylan said, shaking his head. He smiled a bit while he shuffled his feet. “At least he cares.”

I chuckled a bit and forced a smile. “That’s true.”

The both of us paused for a long moment, and I knew Dylan would have to leave soon before my dad came back out of the barn. Before I had a chance to say anything else, Dylan began speaking.

“So, about what I was saying earlier.” He paused, shifting his feet in the dirt. “I can see you’re busy now, but I was wondering if you were free later? I thought maybe we could go for a walk later. I found this place in the woods behind my house that I really wanted to show you.”

“That sounds lovely.” I smiled, nodding my head. “Can I just come find you as soon as I can get away?”

Dylan smiled back at me, his bright smile making mine even wider, while he nodded hi head. “I’ll be waiting.”