“You kinda are, dude,” I laughed.
“It ain’t braggin’ if you can do it.” He waited for me to recognize the quote but then rolled his eyes. “Dizzy Dean? Seriously? You don’t know anything about baseball, do you? Thank God Christy does!” He clapped me on the shoulder. “C’mon, let’s load the Bobcat and get back to camp. We have work to do. And remember what I said about Wren. Please. She’s not as tough as she seems.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll pay more attention to her.”
“Thanks. She really enjoys it.” He grinned. “She gets frisky when I talk about us double-teaming her.”
“You really are a horndog,” I accused.
“One of us has to be. Ever since you turned monogamous…” He waited half a beat and then laughed. “I’m just kidding. Wren told me what you were up to with Kim. Sounds pretty hot.”
I didn’t bother to reply.
“Yeah, I get it. You aren’t gonna tell me.” He laughed again, completely unperturbed. “Let’s get going. Time is money.”
“Or something…,” I muttered, but he wasn’t listening.
* * *
We started demolishing the two-bedroom cabins on Wednesday. Four of them had stood empty all season, and they already looked resigned to their fate. The first one came down without any trouble, especially with the backhoe and a shear attachment instead of the bucket.
The work wasn’t as tedious as the house demolition, but it was far more dangerous. Trip was rusty as a backhoe operator. He was better than a total novice, yours truly, but not by much. I learned the hard way that I had to be careful and watch out.
“Maybe it isn’t like riding a bike,” he said when we finished for the day.
I kept my reply diplomatically brief.
“How’s your head?”
He’d dropped a piece of roof on me. It was a small piece, relatively speaking, and I’d seen it coming in time to flatten myself against the side of the truck, but the corner had still caught me.
“Fine,” I said. “The hard hat absorbed most of it. My neck’s a little sore, but I’ll survive.”
“Sorry about that,” he said. “I didn’t realize you were over there.”
I’d been on the far side of the dump truck, picking up debris that had missed the bed.
“Maybe you should wear one of those bright orange vests.”
“Probably a good idea,” I agreed.
“Wouldn’t’ve helped this time, though,” he lamented. “I thought I had the piece lined up right, but it flipped over the edge.” He looked at me sideways. “You… um… won’t tell Christy, will you?”
“No. Why?”
“She’d kill me.”
I scoffed.
“Dude, she would,” he persisted. “She doesn’t back down. And she’s stronger’n she looks.”
“So, you figured that out?”
“Yeah. Anyway, thanks for not telling her,” he added. “I’ll get better with the backhoe. And… I’ll do a better job watching out for you.”
“Thanks.”
He nodded and changed the subject. “So, Granville J. Blo— What’d you call him?”
“Bloviator.”
“Whatever. I’m not gonna remember that.”
“Like I don’t remember baseball.”
“A shame, too. Anyway, Granville tomorrow?”
“Yeah. Wren and Christy need to make a grocery run, so I’m going to take the Cruiser to a mechanic.”
“How old’s that thing? Ten years?”
“Twelve.”
“Time to buy a new one.”
“I can’t afford a new car!” I laughed.
“Sure you can. Susan already paid us for the bungalows. And I submitted a pay request for the road work. Our management fee should be decent. Plus, I’ll submit another request for the demolition work as soon as we finish the cabins. You’ll have more than enough. Trust me.” He grinned sidelong. “It’d make a nice engagement present.”
“Aw, Trip, you don’t have to do that.”
“Ha! No, not from me. From you… to Christy.”
“Oh, please, not you too!”
“Yeah, sorry. Wren wants me to find out when you plan to do it. Oh, and Christy knows something’s up. She was bragging to Susan about how you fixed the sewer float. This morning. Wren told me when they brought lunch.”
“And…?”
“Your dad was there. He might’ve given you away.”
“Seriously?”
“I guess he thought it was a joke, like blinker fluid.”
“So… what happened?” I asked. “He told her they don’t exist?”
“Wren said he covered it pretty well, but… Christy isn’t stupid.” He paused. “Listen, I’m just passing along what I know, okay? Don’t shoot the messenger.”
“Yeah, you’re right.”
“I’m serious about the car, though. You should do it.”
“I’ll think about it,” I said.
“Don’t overthink it, dude. You know I’m right.”
“Maybe.”
“And don’t overthink the other thing. All you have to do is get down on one knee and ask. You know she’ll say yes.”
“I know, but I gotta do it my way.”
“Whatever, dude. Just don’t keep her waiting too long.”
* * *
I called Carter on Saturday. He was at work, Kim said, but they’d love to meet us for “Sunday supper.”
“That’s ‘brunch’ to you and me,” she explained with a laugh, “but Carter calls it ‘supper.’ We usually eat at the country club with my parents,” she added. “Is that okay?”
“Sure, of course.”
“I’ll put your names on the guest list.”
We agreed on a time, and she gave me directions.
“Sounds good,” I said. “We’re looking forward to it.”
“Us too. Carter will be so happy!”
We said goodbye and hung up.
Trip smirked. “Hot date?”
“Not really.”
“Carter and Kim, right? The same Kim you banged while we were in Atlanta not getting lucky?”
I rolled my eyes and didn’t reply.
“I’m just kidding,” he laughed. “Besides, we have friends we swing with that you don’t.”
“It isn’t that kind of date,” I said. “It’s just brunch. Then we need to head to the airport to pick up Brooke.”
He unconsciously looked around for Wren, although she and Christy were safely outside, relaxing on floats in the pool.
“What about a party tonight?” he said. “Are you up for it?”
“Yeah, probably. What’re you thinking?”
“Nothing wild. Just something to take the edge off, before tomorrow. Besides, Wren could really use the… um…” He snapped his fingers several times.
“Reassurance?”
“Yeah, exactly. Good word.”
“It’s what I do,” I said.
“Anyway, tonight. Maybe she can be the center of attention?”
“Sure. Sounds fun.”
“Do you need to check with the boss?” he asked.
“Who? Christy? No, I’m sure she’ll be fine with it.”
“Cool. So… I’m thinking…”
* * *
Christy and I dressed in country club attire the following morning. I skipped my dress shirt and tie and wore a light pink Polo instead, with khaki trousers and comfortable loafers. Christy hadn’t brought any dress clothes, but it didn’t faze her. She turned a sleeveless floral sundress and white summer-weight cardigan into a suitable outfit, along with a string of pearls and matching earrings for an extra touch of class.
“Where’d you get those?” I asked.
“My nana. When I turned sixteen.” She struck a pose and said in a Boston Brahmin accent, “Every proper young lady needs a pearl necklace.”
I chuckled and didn’t tell her I’d meant where had she gotten them here, although I shouldn’t have been surprised that she’d brought a selection of jewelry. She misunderstood the chuckle anyway.
“No, she didn’t mean that kind of pearl necklace.”
“You never know,” I said wryly. “Your libido comes from somewhere.”
“Oh my gosh, what if you’re right?”
“Maybe your nana likes special skin cream.”