Page 53 of Patio Lanterns

“How do you do that?” Robin said.

“Do what?”

“Take such good care of us. You always seem to know exactly what we need.”

“I just think about what would make you happy, and then I do it.” He gave Mutt the second half before sitting beside her in the grass. “You do the same for me too, you know.”

She wrinkled her nose in an adorable way. “I do?”

“Yeah. Just by being yourself. You don’t even have to try,” he said. “Take this very moment. I am a very happy man because you made the choice to be here with me.”

They both reached for a slice of pizza, laughing as they pulled at the stringy cheese. “Even though it’s not dinner at the Firefly Inn, you gotta admit, having a picnic under the stars together is still pretty romantic,” she said.

He swallowed as he nodded. “I guess I can tell you now, but I had a surprise planned after dinner.”

She smiled. “You did?”

“I’d booked us one of the suites at the inn.”

“Noooooo,” she moaned. “You didn’t.”

“Champagne chilling, rose petals on the bed, chocolate-covered strawberries, the whole nine yards.”

“Oh no, not chocolate-covered strawberries.”

“Oh yes,” he said. “Plus, those big, fluffy hotel bath robes.”

“Stop, you’re killing me.”

He smiled, shaking his head. “Look, it’s fine. We’ll do it some other time, I guess,” he said, wondering just how much time they had left to make such plans. “Do you know what you’re going to do after the weekend’s over?”

“Funny you should ask,” she said, picking up the beer. “I texted the band’s group chat earlier tonight to see what was happening. I guess until I hear back, I don’t have anywhere else to be for a while.”

Robin’s answer delighted Rick, but he also knew that her circumstances could change on a dime, and she’d have to go. He watched her peel back the tab and crack open her cold one. “Hey, your thumbs are curved outwards.”

She held up her thumb and flexed in demonstration. “You just noticed?”

“Yeah, it’s kinda cool. Guess it comes in handy when you need to hitch a ride.”

She chugged back a long gulp. “There are people out there willing to pay good money for photos of trucker thumbs like mine.”

He laughed. “That’s a thing now?”

“Once, I posted a picture I took while driving between gigs, and I got a DM from some guy who said he liked the way my thumb looked pressed against the steering wheel. He said he’d pay me to send him photos.”

Rick winced. “What kind of photos?”

“Nothing overtly sexual. Just photos of me doing everyday things. Pushing a shopping cart, peeling a banana, strumming a guitar,” she said. “As long as they showed off the weird bendy angle of my thumbs. Oh, and he wanted them polished.”

“And did you do it?”

She shook her head. “But I would’ve if I’d had time to stop for a proper manicure,” she said. “Who knows? I still might. I mean, if the Dawn Cherries are DOA and I can’t collect my inheritance, I may have to start a Lonely Fans page to pay my bills. I figure if there’s one guy out there with a thumb fetish, there’s bound to be more.”

Rick definitely gave her props for being resourceful, but the idea of some skeevy stranger using Robin’s body parts to get his rocks off didn’t sit well with him. She deserved to be cherished, thumbs and all. “I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

She took another swig of beer and he did the same before they got up and returned to the tub. Rick turned on the hose, rinsing the thick foamy suds from Mutt’s backside.

For a dog, he’d demonstrated extraordinary patience throughout the arduous deep cleaning process. As if sensing he was finally coming to the end of it, Mutt gave a hard wet-dog shake from nose to tail, flinging water in every direction. Squealing and laughing, Rick and Robin jumped back, but it was too late. They were soaked.

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