Chapter 6 - Sibling Rivalry

"Oh boy, my sister, alone, in an abandoned building with a man. And you're just planning on taking pictures? I bet that's not what he has in mind."

"Not the things you have in mind, I assure you," Aimee said, as she slipped a T-shirt over her head. "I told you. He has his hands full raising his daughter. He doesn't see me that way. I don't think he sees anyone that way."

Karla just shook her head at Aimee's comment. "You have so much to learn."

Aimee slipped on a pair of old jeans and slid her feet into a pair of dark sandals. "You're not wearing that, are you?" Karla gave her a tsk-tsk tone, as she looked her sister up and down. "That's not very enticing."

Aimee gave herself a once-over. "It's an old building. Besides, I'm not trying to be enticing. I'm going to be taking photographs."

"What a waste of an abandoned building."

The doorbell rang and Aimee grabbed her camera case and headed for the door. "Not everyone sees things as you do, sister dear. Sorry."

"You're the only one that doesn't see the opportunities that I do," her sister called after her.

Aimee was shaking her head when she opened the door. Clint just stared at her, his sparkling smile pushing his cheeks up. "Everything okay?"

"Karla is just being Karla."

"Ah." He gestured down the hall toward the elevator. "You ready?"

"Lead on."

As they started walking toward the elevator, Miss Fowler opened her door and stepped out into the hall. She started to say something, but Clint ushered Aimee quickly past the elderly woman. "The way she likes to talk, we'll be trapped there for hours," he whispered once they were out of earshot.

Aimee just giggled. She couldn't argue with him.

The ride over was filled with chitchat as Clint weaved through the Sunday after-church traffic. He drove a small, dark blue Toyota pickup, the bed of which was filled with his tools under a topper that he could keep locked. Abigail's car seat was strapped in the back behind Aimee, so that he could glance over and see his daughter if necessary and reach her with his right arm. "Hard to do if she's behind me."

The house was nestled into a wooded area on River Road, surrounded by massive oaks and towering pines. As he drove down the winding driveway, Aimee felt as if she actually stepped back into another time. The giant branches offered shade over the drive and hid the house from the road and passersby. It would be easy to get lost in the scenery. The grass needed cutting, but the overgrowth added to the atmosphere of the house. Her gaze remained glued outside the truck, taking in everything they passed as he drove down the drive to the main house. She would have to walk back down the driveway, she told herself. It was like a nature trail all unto itself and the photo opportunities were terrific.

Clint parked his truck in front of the house, thanks to the circular drive, and they both stepped out into the humid afternoon. Clint held a clipboard in one hand and a pencil in the other. Aimee's Nikon D3100 hung from the strap around her neck. She stared at the ancient Old West house, absorbing the nuances in the architecture and the faded, chipped paint.

"It should be safe, but I'd still be careful. You never know when a floorboard or step could be loose or rotted out. Just step gingerly until you're sure. I need to wander around and take some notes. Holler out if you need anything."

She glanced over at him, and his smile warmed her heart. "Thank you. I appreciate this."

"My pleasure."

She watched as he walked off toward the back of the house, his jeans snug around his ass, his shirt sliding across the muscles in his back. She would rather be exploring the old house with him, but she would take what she could get. After he rounded the corner and disappeared, she turned her attention back to the house in front of her. It seemed to be a completely wooden structure, with three steps leading up to a wraparound porch. The railing had some sagging boards and a section of the front steps had surrendered to the dank ground below, but it still looked pretty sound. Still, she heeded his advice and took soft steps, testing the wood beneath her feet. A creak gave her warning, but the wood held. She finished climbing the steps and entered the house.

An old, musty smell filled the air, a mixture of mildew and age. The first room was a giant living room with faded lemon paint, some of it peeled away. A dark molding trimmed the floor and ceiling, accenting the walls and drawing out the wooden floor. A broken rocking chair lay on its side in the corner, a leftover remnant proving someone once dwelt there, that the house knew life at one time. Newspapers, dating back a dozen years, littered the dining room floor. Dust covered everything, free of footprints and handprints, a testament to the abandonment of the house. Tattered drapes hung in front of a missing window.

Aimee took several photographs from all different angles of the paraphernalia that littered the home. She changed lenses, filters, zoomed in and zoomed out. She heard Clint moving about, but as soon as she started clicking away, she only had attention for what she saw through her lens. She abandoned herself to what spoke to her. Others saw a broken chair or trash. Aimee saw beauty that reached out to her from the past. Art was about what you could make others see and feel. If the piece spoke to her, she could make it speak to others, and that is what she wanted, to speak to people.

"How's it going?"

She jumped, almost tumbling backwards at the sound of Clint's voice. She clutched her chest with one hand and protected her camera with the other. She tried to ignore his laughter, but she couldn't blame him and soon was laughing as well. "Other than a racing heart right now, I'm doing pretty well. I think I have some great shots. This has been fantastic. I can't thank you enough."

"I'm glad you were able to get some photos." He stood with his clipboard dangling by his side. She could see his cursive writing all over it along with measurements and symbols. "I'm about finished up, so whenever you're ready, we can go. No hurry, though. Take your time."

"Thanks. Maybe just a few more shots. I really owe you for this."

"Do you now? Well then, how about paying me back by not making me eat alone tonight?"

Aimee stopped, her finger still on the button of the camera, and looked up at him. "Are you asking me out?"

He shrugged. "Nothing wrong with friends catching a meal together. Besides, I owe you for all the times you've babysat Abigail. I figure a meal is cheaper than an extra babysitter. See, I'm really cheap and just using the meal to get out of another payment." He grinned at her, and Aimee just shook her head.

She looked down at herself. She was covered in dirt, and her outfit was not chosen for dinner out, but rather to get down in the dust and grime of an old house. "I can't go out like this."

"Really? Why not?" His grin was bigger as he stared at her. "I'm just joking. We can go back, both clean up and change, and then head out. It would save me from having to heat up a frozen dinner and downing a bottle of wine alone."

"Well, I guess we can't have you suffering in isolation, now can we?" She finished taking her photograph, and then stood up. "Dinner sounds good to me, but you don't owe me for babysitting Abigail. I love that little girl. She's one of the sweetest kids I know. Plus, she's easier to babysit than Karla."

"Well then, I'm rescuing you."

"How about we rescue each other?"

His eyes sparkled as he watched her. "I like that."

She felt the warmth between her legs burst into a flaming heat, as her heart pounded a rapid beat. She wished she could say it was a date, but she would settle for a dinner out with a friend. She had an active fantasy life. She could always pretend.

And she would. A lot.

Besides, as Clint said, it was better than eating alone.

After a few more shots, she told him she was ready to go. Stepping back out into the humid night, the sky already started to be swallowed up by dusk. Crickets were heard singing their song from the shrubs that bordered the property, as squirrels leaped from branch to branch in a fast game of tag. She tried to catch a few in mid-leap before she slid into the passenger seat of his truck.

"All set?" He turned the ignition and his truck roared to life.

"Yes. A shower sounds good right about now. Thank you again. These should go over well at the art show."

"Anytime I can help. Besides, it was nice having company who didn't squeal and beg for piggyback rides."

"Wait, I could have had a piggyback ride? Why didn't you tell me? I would have squealed." As soon as she said it, she blushed at the thought of him making her squeal. He probably could make her do much more than that. The truck hit a bump in the drive, jouncing her a bit, and it sent electric shivers through her body, causing her to focus on her passion. She took a deep breath, as he pulled back out onto the road. Glancing over, she saw the smirk on his face. Her comment obviously sent the same thoughts into his head, as well. It was going to be a long night.