Page 112 of Love By The Falls

We toss the ball around a few times after I correct his elbow. The kid has a strong arm. With the right technique, he could become a great pitcher. When I suggest this to him, his eyes light up and he follows my instructions to the last detail.

I lose sight of the ball when Charlotte comes outside, and it nearly hits my face. Charlie covers a laugh with his glove, and I chuckle and throw the ball back at him.

But Charlotte is a distraction. Her breasts are larger, nearly spilling out of her summer dress. Her legs are still tanned from the week in St. Kitts, and I imagine her tan lines up near the top of her thighs. “Look out!” Charlie shouts and I move my face in time for the ball to whiz past my ear.

Charlotte raises her head from the trunk of the car, but since neither of us is hurt, she ducks back down. I throw the ball to Charlie, but notice that Charlotte is struggling. “Hold up, Charlie,” I say and jog over to the car.

“What’s wrong?”

“This box is heavier than I thought. Do you mind bringing it into my bedroom?”

“Of course.” I pull off my glove and pick up the box. It’s at least fifty pounds. “What’s inside?”

“Oh, the crib I was shopping for earlier. It wouldn’t fit in my trunk, so the guy took it apart for me.”

I set the box down in her room. “Do you have a drill? I can assemble it for you.”

She waves me off. “No. No. You play with Charlie. I’ll take care of this.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

I walk out, looking over my shoulder, as Charlotte closes the door.

Before I head back outside, I check my phone for messages. It’s the weekend, so it’s pretty quiet. Travis has set up a few meetings for next week, but otherwise, nothing out of the ordinary.

“All right, Charlie. I’m back.”

He tosses me my glove and I move back into position, about twenty feet away.

Across the street, a neighbor watches us. She’s a little older than Charlotte, but not by much, I’d say. She’s on her phone and sipping a drink on her porch. She stares at us, and I ask Charlie who she is. “Oh, that’s Mrs. Gibbons.”

I nod when he doesn’t expand. I guess in a small town, mentioning the person’s name is enough. I don’t push Charlie about it, and we keep playing.

Another twenty minutes go by, and I wonder about Charlotte’s progress. “Give me a minute, Charlie. I’m going to see if your mom needs any help.”

The door to her room is still closed, so I knock. “Yeah,” Charlotte calls out, “Come in.”

I turn the knob and open the door to a room full of wooden slats, nuts, and bolts strewn over the floor. Nothing’s been put together yet.

“What’s wrong?”

She frowns. “I’m used to doing this with instructions, but there are none. I have no idea where to begin. They all look the same. I’ve tried laying them out, but then the bolts don’t fit. It’s useless. I’ve spent the money, and I still don’t have a crib.”

“Here. Let’s see if I can help.”

She tosses a handful of bolts and nuts onto the ground. “Be my guest.”

I look at the layout of the pieces on the ground. She’s done a good job of mapping this out. I think there are a few pieces that are on the wrong side, so I shift those around. “Can you pass me those two bolts, and the two washers?”

She passes the pieces to me, and I insert them into the pre-drilled holes. “I don’t think you can drill these again. They’ll strip the bolts. Do you have a screwdriver?”

She turns to her pink toolbox and hands me a pink screwdriver. I smile, looking down at it. “Cute. Very cute.”

She smiles. “Thanks.”

The first two pieces fit together, and I move onto the next section she’s laid out. She passes me another two bolts and washers without my asking. “Thanks,” I say, taking the pieces from her hand.

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