“And an R and an E,” he said. Okay, he was assuming about the E, but he was ninety percent sure about the R.
Yeah, that unimpressed look was firmly in place. “Words and names matter,” she said. “It’s disrespectful to not make every attempt to get them right when speaking to or of a person, place, or thing.”
James blew out a little breath. She was a ballbuster. Definitely not his type. He was used to women who were inclined to say or think, “Oh, you’re a cute, charming firefighter who’s also a musician? Here are my panties.” Not women who were inclined to lecture him about being disrespectful in how he referred to trees.
Still, he said, “I didn’t mean anything disrespectful by it.”
“I can’t take seriously your desire to take care of this tree if you can’t even take seriously what kind of tree it is.”
He was half expecting her to give him detention. And not the naughty-professor-and-bad-boy-student type of detention that, with any other woman, he would have teasingly suggested.
He found himself straightening. “Right. Okay, point taken. Do you know anything about taking care of an Arbequina olive tree?”
“I assume there is sun and water involved,” she said. “I also assume that there is information all over the internet about it.”
And, of course, the professor was going to give him homework rather than answers. “Want me to write a three-page paper about it?” he quipped before he thought about the fact that this woman actually kind of intimidated him.
She took a step back and put her hand on the door, clearly indicating she was about to close it. “Yes. And as soon as you turn it in, I will use it to help care for the tree while you’re at work.” Then she shut her door. More or less in his face.
But she’d offered to help. While acknowledging that she’d noticed his work schedule. A twenty-four-hours-on, forty-eight-hours-off firefighter’s schedule was odd to most people, but James loved it. It gave him time to indulge in his love for jazz music and take care of the plethora of activities, errands, and responsibilities that filled up his life. But, yeah, if he was going to keep something alive while also being gone for twenty-four hours straight and having an erratic schedule during the forty-eight hours he wasn’t at the station, he might need some help. It was just a tree but… he wanted to take care of it. It had been Amos’s tree, and Amos had given it to James to look after.
It had been in Amos’s room at the nursing home as long as James had been visiting him. The older man had played with the jazz band James joined on his nights off. Amos had played trombone for eighty of his ninety-two years. He’d been amazing. When he’d gone through surgery and then chemo for pancreatic cancer and had been too weak to play with them all night, he’d still come to the club, do a couple of numbers, and then sit at one of the front tables and listen while nursing a gin and tonic. When he’d gotten sick again and finally had to go to the nursing home, James had visited twice a week. And that tree had always been there.
Amos’s funeral had been yesterday.
This morning, Amos’s favorite nurse had brought over the trombone and the tree with a note that just said, “Give these to James. He’ll take care of them.” A trombone didn’t need special care. It was in a place of honor in James’s living room, but it could be left there for days without trouble. But a tree needed a little more effort.
He didn’t know why he’d thought of asking Harper first thing. Maybe because she gave off an air of knowing everything. A theory that definitely had not been disproved by her knowing the tree was an Albeq—no… James thought and came up with Arbequina after just a second—an Arbequina olive tree and not a ficus.
He smiled. He’d gone over because it had been a reason to talk to her. Not a fantastic reason, but he was out of his depth with her. He didn’t have to come up with reasons to talk to women. They came to talk to him. Every single night at the jazz club, but also at Trahan’s Tavern, the bar and restaurant up the street from the station where some of his buddies hung out. He’d gotten to know the Trahan brothers, who owned the place, and it was a great stop after a long shift for food and drink. And yeah, women.
Hell, the only thing easier than meeting women in New Orleans was getting drunk in New Orleans. Especially for a local guy who was a firefighter and a musician. He didn’t do any of that to seduce women. He loved it for his own sake. But the willingness with which women took their clothes off for him was absolutely a perk.
He headed back inside his apartment, hoisting the tree with him. He had a paper to write.
For the buttoned-up professor across the hall who was in no hurry to take anything off. Even those I-don’t-give-extra-credit glasses of hers.
Five months ago
“I don’t suppose you know anything about lizards?”
Harper looked at the tank James held up.
“Do you know what kind of lizard that is?” she asked.
James noted she didn’t grimace looking at the animal. He hadn’t known what to expect and had to admit he’d been curious about her reaction to it.
He had been expecting her to ask that, though, so he’d made sure he had the answer. “It’s a bearded dragon.”
She crossed her arms but gave him a look that was a little skeptical but also a little intrigued. “Why do you have a bearded dragon?”
“It was sitting in front of my door.”
Her eyes widened slightly at that.
“In this tank,” he added.
“So someone brought it to you?”
“Yes.”
“Like the tree.”
“Yes.”
“With a note?”
He’d told her all about Amos in bits and pieces over the past month. “Yes. It said, ‘I know you’ll take care of Henry.’”
“The dragon’s name is Henry?” she asked.
“Apparently.” He held up one hand as if to stop what she was going to say next. “And I know that you have a thing about names and words. The kids named him, so I don’t feel like I can change it even if there is something possibly more meaningful out there.”
“The kids?”
“Yes.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Were the kids the ones who brought him over?”
“Well, I’m guessing it was Simon.”
“Who’s Simon?”
“One of the little boys in the third-grade class I spoke to the other day,” he said.
He liked that she seemed a little interested in this and planned to milk it for all he could. He was great with kids, and people trusted him to take care of things, and he’d never miss a chance to remind her that he was a firefighter. “I do classroom talks about fire safety,” he said. “Simon is a kid I met last year. He thinks I’m amazing.”
She pursed her lips almost as if she were fighting a smile. “I see.”
“When I was there a couple of days ago, he was telling me that their regular teacher is out for the rest of the year having a baby and the substitute hates Henry and wants to get rid of him. She’s been asking the other teachers if they’ll take him and even told the students that one of them could have him. No one wants him, and Simon’s mom and dad won’t let him keep Henry. He then asked me if I like bearded dragons.”