“Thanks, Bea,” I said to her in the mirror. “Say a prayer for me.”
Somehow, I knew she would.
* * *
I parked on Main Street and visited the furniture store first. We had to look in the back, but we eventually found a broken headboard from a child’s bed. The wood was unfinished ash, and one post had split. The other was solid and perfect, and the owner let me have it for free.
I went to the antique store next, where they had an old surveyor’s tripod in the window. Someone had replaced the transit with a brass telescope, but that suited my purpose just fine. I bought it and put it in the back of the Cruiser with the bedpost.
Across the street I bought a set of basic woodcarving tools from young Mr. McMasters. At the Hallmark store two doors down, I bought a pack of colored construction paper. Finally, I walked down a side street to the dressmaker’s shop. Surprisingly, the town still had one. Not surprisingly, it was a time machine of sorts, a portal to a world fifty years gone.
A bell rang over the door, and a sprightly septuagenarian named Arletta hopped from a stool. She was stooped with age and white-haired, but her smile made me think of laughter and summer days with a pretty girl. And heaven help the fool who thought her a dried-up spinster.
“May I help you?” she asked in a honeysuckle drawl.
I told her what I was looking for, and she helped me find the perfect ribbon, a baby blue silk that matched Christy’s eyes.
“It’s a lovely color. What’s it for?” She drew out her R’s and softened them, like she didn’t want to offend me with something hard and round.
“I’m going to ask my girlfriend to marry me.”
“Oh, how precious! Wait right there, I know just what you need.”
She searched through a basket of off-cuts and found a piece of matching blue silk, which she cut into heart shapes about three inches across. She sewed a clever little knot-and-loop closure to one and embroidered the other with Christy’s and my initials. Then she mated the pieces face to face and began sewing them together.
Her stitches were tight and neat, and her needle flashed with a lifetime of skill. She finished in no time. Then she turned the little case right side out. She filled it with stuffing and sewed it shut. Her expression lit up with her girlish smile.
“Here you are.” She handed me the small pillow. “For the ring.”
“That’s amazing! Thank you. How much do I owe you?”
“No charge, a gift for your sweetheart.”
I argued but she politely refused, so I gave her an impulsive kiss on the cheek, which was becoming a habit. Also, I might’ve slipped a twenty-dollar bill into her sewing basket while she was distracted.
I returned to the Cruiser and used the back as a workshop, right there on Main Street. I started by sketching my initials on the bedpost. Then I added a few more, plus a couple of lines. I set to work with my new carving tools. They took a little getting used to, but it wasn’t a complex message.
When I was finished, I sanded the rough edges, blew out the sawdust, and cleaned up the mess. Then I taped yellow construction paper over the inscription. I drew a surveyor’s target with a black magic marker to complete the illusion. Christy would never know the difference between it and the real thing.
I felt a growing sense of excitement as I drove back to camp, although I did my best to hide it. I didn’t want to give away my plans simply because I couldn’t stop grinning. I finally managed to control my emotions, but part of me still worried that anyone who looked at me would know what I was up to. Fortunately, I only had to play to an audience of one.
I parked in my usual spot and grabbed my sketchbook and carrying tube from the back seat. Then I took a deep breath and composed my thoughts.
“I can do this,” I said aloud.
Part of me wasn’t so sure.
My grandfather’s words came back to me, “Faint heart never won fair lady,” although I had to smile. He’d also told me to marry a girl with small hands because “it makes your johnson look bigger.” At least he was right about that!
“He’s right about both,” I said. “And… now I’m talking to myself.”
I laughed at the way my mind worked, from elated to afraid and back again. But if I couldn’t decide how I felt, Christy didn’t stand a chance. Besides, she had other things on her mind.
“Speaking of which…”
I walked around the corner and felt a wave of relief. Everything was normal. Mark and the girls were sitting at our usual table on the other side of the pool. Christy saw me first. Her face lit with a smile and she waved.
“Hey, you’re just in time!” Mark called. “Join us!”
“One sec!” I ducked into the clubhouse and left my work things. Then I joined the group outside. I felt mildly out of place, fully dressed among nudists, but I also had something to hide. They didn’t.
Mark handed me a wine cooler from a bucket beside his chair. It held three more, with a dozen empties on the patio beside it. Christy, Brooke, and Leah were all drinking too.
“Starting a bit early?” I wondered idly.
“The sun’s over the yardarm,” Christy said.
“Fair enough.” I glanced at my watch and realized it was almost three o’clock.
“Besides, we’re on vacation,” Mark added. “What else’re we gonna do?”
“We could have an orgy,” Christy suggested, and I decided that at least three of the empties were hers. Her current one was almost empty as well.
“We could,” Mark agreed. “Now that Paul’s here.”
All of a sudden I realized who was missing. “Hold on… Where are Trip and the others?”
“In their cottage,” Leah said. “Having their own little party.”
Mark winked and added, “Something about ‘sky rockets in flight.’”
“Ah, right,” I chuckled. “‘Afternoon Delight.’ It’s on his make-out tape.”
“He wanted to go muff diving,” Mark said. “Evidently, he didn’t get enough last night.”
“Muff’s on the endangered species list,” Leah said.
“Around here, at least.”
“Thank goodness,” Christy said.
“I keep trying to convince Erin,” Leah told her, “but she’s old-fashioned. At least she isn’t hippie-hairy.”
“Oh my gosh, no!”
“I kinda like being shaved,” Brooke said.
“And I like it on Paul,” Leah agreed. “I wasn’t convinced at first, but it’s kinda sexy.” She glanced at Mark. “What do you think?”
“Very sexy.” He gave me a flamboyant wink, and we all laughed.
“You should give it a try,” Brooke told him.
“Shaving or Paul’s dick?” Mark wondered.
Brooke turned pink.
“Either,” Christy said.
“Both!” Leah laughed.
“Maybe I will,” Mark said with an easy shrug. “The shaving, at least. Does it make your dick look bigger?” he asked me.
“Oh, please,” Leah said. “You don’t need any help in that department.”
“You don’t,” Christy agreed.
“I dunno,” he said. “I’m pretty happy with what I have, but another inch’d be nice.”
“Why?” Brooke asked. “None of us care about that.”
“I know, but—”
“Besides, I kinda like it. Yours, I mean. I’ve been thinking about it since—” She swallowed hard and blushed. Again.
“It’s okay,” Leah laughed. “We all do it.”
“Now I’m gonna blush,” Mark joked.
“Have another drink,” I told him. “It’ll help you cool off.”
“Good idea! Who else wants one?”
“Me,” Christy said. “And I’ll drink Brooke’s if she doesn’t want it.”
“Hey! Hands off my alcohol,” Brooke said. Then she frowned and realized we’d distracted her from her embarrassment.