Soundtrack: "Sorry" by ItaloBrothers
Santana's POV
She needs a moment to recollect once she's closed the door behind herself. That was - an unusual encounter. With her back she leans against the door, the palm of her hands resting on the cold material.
Only then she wonders what it was that made her feel uneasy for a moment. This isn't what she pictured "the best landscaper" to be like. She didn't picture anyone per se. But this woman was not what she had expected.
Maybe she expected someone bigger. Like a man. But she knew someone named Brittany was coming. So that's silly. Maybe she expected the woman to be less… feminine. Which is the absolutely dumbest thing in the world. Landscapers, plumbers, carpenters or any kind of craftspeople can be feminine and strong. She's being a complete idiot for thinking in boxes.
She didn't think she'd suddenly have to go with double payment though. Her friend didn't say anything about that when recommending this Brittany girl.
Brittany the landscaper.
Santana chuckles irritated when she realizes that she's still standing in the entrance of her house. She pushes herself away from the door to get to the big dining table. There's the empty glass. She reaches for it, but her fingers grace the sleek surface of the polished wooden table instead.
She can't remember the last time she had eight people over for dinner. That's how many would fit. She doesn't think she's ever had that many people over. She should definitely ask Kurt to host another one of his famous home parties but this time at her place. It's a shame that table never gets used.
That's when she remembers that she still hasn't answered Kurt's message from last night. He wanted to know if she'd join him to the beach this week. Duh… they do this all the time. But she can't take an afternoon off again. She just did that yesterday.
On the other hand, she's basically her own boss. She's got a deadline to finish the the newest part of the book series she's currently translating but since she worked two nightshifts in a row and spent the complete past weekend at her desk, too, she's ahead of it. So she's going to treat herself with a few relaxing hours at the beach.
But not today. She definitely needs a cup of coffee now and something to focus on. Besides, the third book of the most popular story among teens these days is coming to its peek. She can hardly think of anything else anyway. And the Spanish speaking readers around the world must be waiting eagerly.
So she quickly grabs the only other two items on the big wooden table; her notebook and car key.
About twenty minutes later she's sitting in her favorite coffee shop, a huge cappuccino is placed next to her notebook and her fingers are flying over the keypad. She's listening to music with her overhead earphones which always helps to get her into another sphere where she doesn't bother people passing by, talking and laughing loudly or any other kinds of noises.
She's in her element. There aren't many things she loves more than her work.
She has to admit she was a bit surprised when Brittany the landscaper arrived five minutes early this morning. Somebody must have had a bit of a bad conscience about being late the other day.
The old truck came to a halt on the side of the street just when Santana was coming down the stairs from her bedroom and glanced through the big windows in the stairway. She watched how the blonde jumped out of the truck wearing ripped jeans and a sleeveless shirt about three sizes too big and her hair up in a messy bun. After reaching into the back of her truck to get out some items she'd need for work, there was no way she was going to be able to ring the doorbell, so Santana opened the door for Brittany just when she was about to try and got thanked with a wide smile.
They started their day by discussing the most important things that Brittany needed to know. Then the blonde was off to work. Santana decided to stay in and write at home, too. Not that she didn't trust a complete stranger she's never met before… but she kind of felt like she had to be around if questions came up or the woman needed something.
But so far she hasn't seen the blonde in three hours. She only hears her every now and then when she walks around the house to get something from the truck or uses the outdoor faucet.
When Santana throws a look at her watch, she wonders if Brittany will get lunch anytime soon. But she doesn't. Only when Santana gets hungry herself, she puts her notebook aside to take a break.
She's often barefoot at home. So she doesn't think when she steps outside through the backdoor to see if Britany wants something to drink.
"Oh careful!" Sounds a worried voice. "There are splinters everywhere".
Santana quickly stops and looks down. There are indeed wooden splinters everywhere. With Santana's approval, Brittany tore the old porch swing to pieces in order to replace it with a new one later on.
"I didn't get the chance to clean everything yet" Brittany goes on when she approaches Santana who's still standing moveless like being trapped in a field of mines. "Just go back the exact same way then you should be clear."
Santana clumsily makes her way backwards until she's on safe ground. Quickly she grabs a pair of flip-flops before going outside once more. Brittany takes off her gardening gloves in order to put some loose strands of hair behind her ears.
"I didn't mean to bother you. Do you want something to drink? I was about to get myself something." Santana says when Brittany reaches into a very used looking backpack to pull out a big bottle of water.
She grins when she turns to look at Santana again.
"Thanks, I'm good. So you've got the day off?" The blonde asks casually before guiding the bottle up to her lips. Santana watches how she drinks half of the water in one go and spills some accidentally.
There's dirt all over her pants, blonde strands of hair keep falling out of the bun and some damp stains on her shirt give away that the garden is lots of work. When looking at the blonde's tanned skin, Santana wonders how much sunscreen a landscaper uses. Like in a year. Average. Especially in a sunny place like this.
When she tries to remember what question she just got asked, she gets interrupted by her own phone ringing.
"Sorry" She mumbles before hurrying inside to get to the dining table she was working at. When picking up the phone, she rolls her eyes at the caller ID.
"Hey sis… what's up?"
Her sister Loretta starts babbling about a party coming up on the weekend at Eric's house. She ignores the fact that Santana already said she's not going to the party when they last spoke on the phone a couple days ago.
So Santana just goes with the usual "uh-huhs" and "rights" and "maybe, I'll see" before finishing the phone call with a sigh. Sometimes she wonders if she and Loretta really have the same biological parents. She's three years older but still likes to party like during college. Although at the moment she loves nothing more than those fancy dinner parties where all her friends come over to her place and they play poker, eat exotic food and talk about everything and nothing.
Santana only joined them once.
It wasn't her kind of party.
Loretta isn't going to give up easily about that party but Santana really doesn't feel like it. Besides, Loretta has enough friends. Santana doesn't know why she always wants to have her there. She wouldn't know what to talk about with all of those people there anyway.
Once they end the phone call, Santana throws a look outside. Brittany is already back to work. She doesn't want to bother her again so Santana just lets her do her thing and disappears into the kitchen to make herself some lunch.
Kurt talks about the new role he just got the other day and Santana really tries to listen. But she can hardly keep her eyes open. They're lying next to each other on a big towel, the late afternoon sun still warming their skins.
For the past two nights she worked till early morning hours, completely forgetting about time but whenever she's in her flow, she can't stop and regrets it the next day.
"Have you heard of Damien Cook before? He was in that reality tv show a couple years ago and I totally fancied him back then. Now I get to act with him! How crazy is that?" Kurt wants to know. Santana suppresses a yawn. Thankfully she's wearing her sunglasses so he can't see that she's been having her eyes closed for the past twenty minutes.
"Isn't he the one who threw up into his own shoe and then wore it afterwards?" She asks tiredly.
Kurt laughs it off.
"As I said. That was years ago. He's really grown up now and he's so cute. I get a hundred percent gay vibes. Like most definitely… I'm pretty sure he's into men."
"Kurt… you're gonna work with him. Don't you think that's a little risky?"
Kurt seems to think for a moment. Santana can sense him getting into an upright position.
"Why Santana? Why ruin that for me? You know I haven't been with anyone in what feels like a hundred years!" He exclaims.
Santana sighs before sitting up as well. She takes off her sunglasses.
"I'm sorry, Kurt but that's what you keep saying yourself. Keep yourself out of complicated things that are destined to get you into trouble and cause heartache. Right?"
Kurt rolls his eyes but then smiles at her.
"My best friend reminding me of my own advices… you must be right then. But he's so cute!" He sighs dramatically. "I've always wanted to date someone named Damien."
Santana laughs at his dreamy face. Then she opens the cooler they brought along to get two bottles of cold water out. She hands one to Kurt.
"To your first job in a TV series. May you grow fame and fortune but not too fast because I still want you as my best friend and not get replaced with some actor girl named Ashley. Or Stella."
Kurt raises his bottle.
"Never, Santana. You're my only one."
They take a big sip and rest in silence for a while. But it doesn't last long. Santana can tell his eye has spotted something he likes in the distance by the way his jaw drops.
"Oh hello hotstuff?" He mutters under his breath. Santana follows his line of sight. She needs to narrow her eyes to get a better look at the two people standing close to the water with surfboards in their hands.
She's not sure at first but when the smaller one turns around, she recognizes Brittany the landscaper. Standing there in a wetsuit, talking animatedly to a tall guy.
"That's… that's my landscaper" she says with a chuckle.
"No way, that can't be. That's like in the movies. Way too hot to be a real landscaper." Kurt mumbles.
"I know, I thought so, too like… do you ever eat anything other than vegetables or how do you get that body?"
"Nah it takes a lot more than veggies to get those abs." Kurt objects. "It's a shame that neoprene covers the lower half of that body. At least I get to see the chest." He makes a humming noise.
Santana shakes her head irritated.
"Are we still talking about my landscaper?"
"If your landscaper is my future husband, then yes."
Santana is the first one to break the gaze and hits Kurt's shoulder.
"Uuuh I don't think so? I'm talking about the woman!"
That's when Kurt's eyes widen.
"What? Where do you see a woman? Oh yeah! Now I see her right behind his muscular Adonis body. Yeah she's hot. Wait… do you fancy your landscaper?"
Santana quickly shakes her head because never has she heard such a ridiculous thing in the world.
"No? Of course not. I don't even know her."
"I think you just said that she's attractive."
Santana annoyedly clicks her tongue.
"No… that was you drooling over Mr. Lick-My-Abs."
That causes Kurt to laugh out loud.
"That's true. I'd lick them in a heartbeat. And more." Santana pushes him playfully in order to make him stop as she doesn't need any more details but then they start giggling and she bursts into laughter as well.
They must have caught some attention because when Santana throws another look into the surfers' direction, her eyes lock with Brittany's over the distance. Or at least she thinks so. It's hard to tell as the sun is blinding from behind Brittany's back.
The blonde raises a hand and waves. Santana reciprocates the gesture, earning a "U-huh" from Kurt.
Brittany's attention gets drawn away when the tall guy points at something on his arm. Maybe a scratch or something. Santana watches how the blonde takes his hand into her own to inspect whatever it is that's on his wrist.
"Aw what a pity… they're totally into each other." Kurt states disappointedly.
Santana wonders. Then she tilts her head to the side.
"I don't think so."
Kurt clinks his bottle with Santana's.
"To two straights… who should be with us instead." He says dejectedly.
"Oh my God, Kurt. Save those dramatic lines for your TV show. And as I said. I'm not even into her. She's nice. As in being nice to your customer."
Kurt perks an eyebrow but then accepts her explanation.
"Alright, alright. I get it. But you have to admit that he and I would make a pretty good-looking couple."
Santana nods when putting an arm around his shoulder.
"A very good-looking one. Maybe I can ask her for his number." She adds with a wink. Kurt looks at her as if she just invented a cure for a deadly illness.
"Oh Santana… if you could do that, I'd forever be thankful. I'd guard it like the apple of my eye. Let's just see if they're good at surfing for a minute, please. And then I'll shut up."
With a chuckle they watch how Brittany and the guy make their way into the water eventually. She has no idea for how long they sit there and watch. But it's definitely longer than a minute.
Although it felt good to spend some relaxing hours with Kurt, she regrets it now, a day later. She's still ahead of her schedule. But she likes to be a lot more ahead of it. There are many chapters to go. But today she can't seem to focus on anything. She hates those days. Where she wants to be productive so badly but her brain does the complete opposite. One thought after the other pops into her head. Things she should do, things she shouldn't do, things she forgot to do, things she's done, things she wishes she hadn't done and so on…
To stop those thoughts, she decides to get herself a glass of water. Then she finds something to eat instead and stands in front of the opened fridge, snacking, and getting lost in thoughts again. So she returns to the dining table where she's working at and once she's seated, she remembers that she forgot the glass of water. It's a vicious circle.
With a growl she pushes herself up once again. When she's about to get to the kitchen, her attention gets drawn away. She was so sure today was Saturday. But she can hear noises from the backyard. This always happens when she works till late at night. She messes up the weekdays.
With a look on her watch she realizes that Brittany must have gotten here about an hour ago. Santana was so lost in thoughts that she didn't even hear her coming.
This time Santana puts on her flip-flops before she opens the patio door to step outside.
"Good morning!" She gets greeted when she makes some careful steps onto the lawn. Brittany is kneeling next to what looks like is becoming a flowerbed. She smiles at Santana.
"Hi" Santana answers before sitting on an old garden chair. Just now she realizes how tired and unnerved she actually is. She slept for maybe three hours. Brittany looks like she swallowed the sun or something.
"So what is it you do that allows you to take the day off all the time? I think I'm in the wrong profession!" Brittany wants to know with a grin.
Wrong question.
Wrong time.
Just wrong.
"Uh… what makes you think I'm not working?" It comes out too cocky. She knows it. But it's just too early.
"Oh uhm… I just assumed that you've got the day off when you're staying in. Sorry! So you work at home then?" She asks friendly.
But she could probably say or do whatever. Santana is not in the mood and she doesn't even know why she came out to say hello at this point. Somebody always takes the blame when she didn't get enough sleep.
That's not true. Nobody ever gets the blame because nobody is ever around. So Brittany gets it all in one go.
"I work pretty much everywhere. At coffee shops, libraries, restaurants, at home. As long as I've got my computer with me and my head free." Santana tries with a lighter voice. She doesn't know if it's working.
Brittany claps her hands together twice in order to get rid of some dirt. She's not even wearing gardening gloves at the moment. Maybe she's working with some very fragile seeds or something.
"Are you a hacker or something?" Brittany jokes. Santana shakes her head.
"Nah… I translate."
"Oh cool. Like what?"
A short sigh escapes Santana's lips.
"Books, interviews, articles, sometimes scripts, letters… basically anyone can hire me. As long as it's Spanish."
Brittany seems impressed.
"Wow. I've always wanted to speak another language but I'm a lost case. I took German class for like three years and remember nothing. Absolutely nothing. No wait – guten Morgen allerseits!"
She laughs at her own words. Santana feels a headache coming her way.
"Yeah… a little bit more and you could start as an interpreter." Santana comments. She was trying to make a joke, too. But it came out too monotone to be understood as a joke.
"Mind if I ask how much a translator makes? Like it must pay really well." The shift in Brittany's voice can hardly be heard.
Santana doesn't know whether to be irritated or more annoyed.
"I do mind. Why would you ask?" She counters. Brittany is still kneeling on the grass when she shrugs.
"Sorry, that was too direct. It's none of my business."
Santana arches an eyebrow.
"You wonder how I can afford this place? Well, I just can. But uh… how much money do you make? Oh no wait- " She palms her forehead. "I already know."
With that she gets up from the chair. She wants to go back inside. She does. But instead she crosses her arms in front of her chest. She's so not done, yet.
"One more thing before I let you go back to work. I had an idea this morning. Your shrubbery is cute and everything but I was thinking maybe something a little bigger. Like a fountain. I love those."
Santana watches how Brittany scratches her forehead while wetting her lips with her tongue. Like she's preparing something in her head.
"A fountain?" Brittany repeats.
"Or a pond. It should fit, right? With a little bridge over it." Santana explains. Brittany tilts her head to the side.
"Sure. I just had no idea you wanted the Palace of Versailles." She counters. Santana bites on her tongue to keep from throwing something right back at her. "But I'm not a landscape architect. There's only so much I can do."
Santana narrows her eyes.
"Oh really? My friend Annie said that you did way more than what you first offered you can do. Why are you being modest?"
"Because Mrs. Lopez, that's not what I do. I have no idea what your friend Annie told you about me but you saw her garden, didn't you? Was there any fountain there?"
"No, but I want-"
"Oh let me guess – you want an automatic thrower in the corner so you can do clay pigeon shooting? Because I do work with clay. I can make you those?"
Santana huffs. That's all she's able to do at the moment. She's outraged. But also taken off guard.
"Do you want me to do what I'm good at or something that I think will look like the residence of an aging Queen? Because from what I remember correctly, you wanted to sit in your garden after a long day of work and not feel like you're in the desert."
Santana wouldn't admit it out loud. But she's impressed by the repeating of her own words. But Brittany doesn't give her time to process or to answer.
"And when I picture you doing that… then I see you sitting at a round wooden table. A newspaper and a cup of coffee in your hand. There's a white lantern on the ground next to you and the warm light of the candle flickers. The scent of flowers tickles your nose and if you really want water then you get a little bird bath made of natural stone. You hear the humming of bumblebees… Not an ultraviolet clarifier for your pond."
Santana stares at her. She can hardly breathe. She can't explain why. She can't even think properly. Her headache got replaced with confusion a long time ago.
"But if that's what you want then… sure… I'll find a way and talk to some architect friends."
Santana shakes her head. She swallows. Then she gets up.
"I… have to get back to work." She mutters.
"Santana"
But she can't possibly throw another glance into Brittany's direction. So she just leaves her sitting there and goes inside.
It's hours later when Santana finishes the seventh chapter without changing her position. She's been sitting cross-legged on her chair. Her feet never touch the floor when she's working at her dining table. The floor is way too cold. But now her knees almost kill her when she untangles her legs. A look at the clock on the screen of her computer tells her that she wrote for three hours straight.
Just when she wants to get up, she hears a soft knock on the patio door. Brittany carefully opens it. She's got her shoes in her hand as well as something else but Santana isn't ready to talk to her, yet.
Who does she think she is? She was being way out of line.
So Santana just keeps her eyes on the screen. Before she can think about why Brittany doesn't just leave by walking around the house, she can sense her stepping close to the table.
"Sorry about before. I'd understand if you didn't want me to come back tomorrow." She says with a voice that sounds a bit regretful.
Santana breathes calmly. Her right hand is resting on the mouse, moveless. Whatever…
"Then I wouldn't have a landscaper." She simply says gentler than anything she said earlier.
"Right" Brittany mumbles. "Later then".
She makes her way through the living room and leaves the house without another word.
It's quiet for a minute. Santana hears the old truck driving off. Only then she looks up and leans back in her chair.
There's a single red rose placed on the table where Brittany was just standing before.
Santana's heart makes a weird jump. Maybe because she's still upset.
Sometimes she has no idea how to read her own body or to know what she wants. But right now she does.
She wants the lantern and the bumblebees.
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