Page 86 of Barron

“Hey, Daddy.”

“I’m swinging by to pick you up. The cottage is ready, and Johnny G will help us. Between the three of us, we’ll get it done.”

“Cool. Cel offered to help too, but I told her it wasn’t necessary.”

“You’re right. Thank her for me. I’m very grateful she kept you company.”

A flurry of voices and sounds came after he spoke.

“What was that?”

Yoanni laughed. “That was Cel saying you better bring me back.”

“I will, hun. As soon as you’re all squared away. Give me fifteen minutes. I’d like to double check the truck is loaded. Wait for me on the porch. Okay?”

“Okay, Daddy.”

Back in his garage, he counted the boxes once more. Satisfied they had enough to complete the job, he loaded the stack in the truck bed, dropped two extra boxes in the crew cab, and took off at top speed. He could barely contain his excitement, but he cautioned himself to slow down. The last thing he needed was a speeding ticket to ruin the evening. In less than an hour, Yoanni would officially move with him. They were ready to begin their new life.

Ten minutes later, he pulled in front of the clubhouse. Blade, Cel, holding Little Jerrod in her arms, and Yoanni waited for him on the porch.

As he jumped out to open the passenger door for her, Blade called out, “Are you sure you don’t need more hands? We’re happy to help.”

“Thanks. We’ll be fine.” He waved, gave Yoanni a boost up, and jumped back behind the wheel.

“Bye. See you soon.” The truck tires, crunching gravel and soil, drowned out Yoanni’s voice.

“Are you sad, Nugget?”

“Not sad. I realized how much I enjoyed her company.”

“I’m glad you had a good time. You need each other. Blade and I were talking about it, and once you’re settled in, you’ll get together again. We’ll have them over for dinner. Would you like that?” He extended his hand to her. She entwined her fingers with his.

“Thank you, Daddy. I’d love it.”

“Then it’s settled.”

Barron drove through the city streets. During the week, the highway was usually faster, but it took him several miles out of the way. On Sunday evenings, traffic was almost nonexistent. Dinner hour approached, and most folks were home. He slowed as he entered Yoanni’s soon-to-be old street.

She pointed at her house. “Look. The garage door is open. Johnny Gun beat us.”

His friend’s bike straddled the driveway behind the opened door. The nose of his girl’s Camry peeked out. Barron pulled in behind him, and Yoanni, without waiting for his help, jumped down.

“Hold up,” he said.

“Come on, Daddy.” She grabbed two large boxes from the crew cab and slammed the door closed. “Why can’t I go in? Johnny G’s already inside.”

“Good grief.” He threw his hands up in defeat. Yoanni’s Cuban enthusiasm was impossible to tamp down. Might as well get used to it.

“Okay, go.”

“I’ll go through the front door.” Laughing, she pushed the door in with her shoulder and dashed into the cottage with her two oversized boxes.

He rearranged the boxes in the truck’s bed into two piles. He carried one pile halfway into the garage, dropped it next to her car, then went back for the other pile. A crashing sound stopped him.

“Yoanni?” he shouted, rushing to the door she’d gone into. “Are you all right? Did you fall?” He moved through the shadowy living room. Only one light was turned on. He turned on the wall switch. The living room looked the same as when he’d seen it earlier in the day. The pungent smell of paint had faded to a faint reminder.

“Nugget? Yoanni?” he called again. Silence answered him. Fear surged, but he pushed it down. “Johnny G? Where are you guys?” If they were playing a joke on him, Yoanni’s butt would be red for a month, and his friend would never hear the end of it.

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