Page 67 of Absinthe Dreams
“I never come in this way.”
“That’s valid. I like the way they’re solid, though – windows would make it too insecure.”
“Oh, I know, it was actually mentioned as one of the selling points,” she said and disappeared into the house.
I brought the string of lights out of its box and plugged it into the outlet located to the left of the door. I’d measured everything twice, and this stringshouldmake it from the outlet, up, and all the way around the perimeter of the porch. I reached up andyeah – nah, I needed something to stand on. A step ladder or even a chair would do it.
I swore and went into the house.
“Need an assist – I’m justthisshort.” I held my hands apart for reference, and she laughed.
“Got a folding two-step ladder thing in the laundry room.”
“Perfect,” I declared. “Mind grabbing it for me so I don’t traipse across the carpet in dirty work boots?”
“You reallyaretheperfectman,” she said, and left what she was doing in the kitchen to grab the stepladder for me. She handed it over, and I smacked her ass when she turned to go back to fixing whatever it was she was cooking up for dinner. She yelped and gave me a look over her shoulder that was something betweendo it again, andnever do it again– I couldn’t quite tell.
“I can’t tell what that look means,” I told her.
“It means I’m keeping my eye on you,” she shot back, and I laughed.
By the time I finished hanging the lights and had them plugged in and working, the sun had set enough behind the buildings that it was making an impact out here. I went and straightened out the twin hammocks and the little table I’d temporarily gotten for between them until we found something that suited her better.
The nice part about this whole setup was that it was eminentlymovable.All of it could be broken down in about twenty minutes, loaded into a car or truck, and taken on to the next place we wanted to take it. It wasn’t that serious.
Likewise, if a storm big enough was coming, we could break down the hammocks and bring ‘em inside to keep them from crashing into the railings, or worse, going up and over.
It was a good setup. I looked forward to spending some lazy evenings out here with her.
I went into the house, leaving my boots at the door, and asked her, “I got time for a shower and a change of clothes before dinner is up?”
“Yeah, you should,” she said. “I’d make it pretty quick, though, if you’re hungry. Should be up in about fifteen minutes or so.”
“Plenty of time,” I said, moving past her and stealing a kiss along the way.
I showered pretty quickly, got changed into some comfy lounge gear for around the house, consisting of a pair of shorts and an old Harley tee with the sleeves cut out down the sides. I met up with her at the dining room table just as she was setting down some plates with a pasta dish and a mound of salad next to it.
“This looks fuckin’ great,” I said, and she smiled.
“It’s a lot easier than it looks,” she said. “And pretty good if I do say so myself.”
She went back to the kitchen, brought us a couple of beers, and sat down with me.
Dinnerwasgood, and I helped her clean up, which was only two pans. The one she’d done the pasta up in and the pan with the sauce and shit. Oh, and the one mixing bowl she’d done the salad in.
She knew how to cook, and I needed to watch myself lest I turn back into that fat guy. I worked so hard to get out of that overweight meat suit, and I felt a lot better for it. I wasn’t trying to go back for a lot of reasons.
“You keep cooking like that, you’re liable to turn me back into a fat guy,” I said.
“You were just as attractive then as you are now,” she said, and I laughed.
“Bullshit.” I called her out.
“Believe what you want.” She shrugged me off.
“You ready to come look at this?” I asked.
“Yeah!” she agreed enthusiastically, closing the dishwasher and starting it.
