Page 94 of Cookout Carnage
‘You were frowning. It’s not too outdoorsy for you?’
Smile. ‘It’s stunning and not as hot as I thought it would be.’
‘It’s always cooler up here than in town. And we’re nearly there.’
‘Hey, what do you call a Frenchman in sandals?’
She paused and looked back at him. ‘Is this another one of your “jokes”?’
He swallowed his grin. ‘No, a serious cultural question.’
She wrinkled her nose. ‘I have no idea.’ She put her hands on her hips. ‘Whatdoyou call a Frenchman in sandals?’
‘Philippe Philoppe.’
‘What?’
‘Philippe Philoppe. Filip Filop?’ She was frowning, but he could tell she got the joke as she was biting her lip to keep a straight face. ‘Flip Flop? Do you get it?’
She threw her hands in the air. ‘Yes! And that is so not funny!’
‘Then why are you laughing?’
She shook her head. ‘This is an involuntary muscle response. Part of my Southern hospitality reflex. I’m making you feel good about your terrible puns.’
‘And I appreciate it. You’ve got a goodsole.’ She stared at him, shaking her head. ‘Laughing at that joke is no meanfeet.’
‘Oh. My. God! Tris!’
‘Do you want me to put a sock in it?’
‘Agghhhhhhhh!’ Sherilyn’s cry of frustration echoed around them. ‘Why am I still laughing?’
‘Because of my wit and irrepressible British charm?’
She fixed him with a look that was clearly meant to be stern but failed entirely. Tristan had never been happier.
‘Look,’ he said. ‘In all seriousness, I will be on my best behaviour when we meet your parents this afternoon. I promise.’
Her smile faltered, then fell off her face. She stuck a brittle one back on. ‘Come on, it’s not far now. Let’s go.’
She walked off.
What was that all about? How conservativewereher parents? Was her dad going to turn up with a shotgun? Or with a knife, like Rambo? Was showing up for the Fourth of July such a good idea? Should he have arrived instead on ‘Let’s forgive our former oppressors and sit down together over a cup of tea and cucumber sandwiches’ day? Uncertainty and nerves gnawed at him. Her parents were important to her, so they were important to him. If he fucked this up, he’d put her in a bad position. And if she had to choose between him and her family, he knew what choice she’d make.
As they continued along the trail, the sound of running water filled the air. Soon they emerged on the banks of a creek. The water sparkled in the sunlight as it swelled towards the larger boulders, splitting and rushing through the gaps, dancing and spinning in circles as it bubbled and foamed onward. They stopped to catch their breath. It was beautiful. Sherilyn pointed upstream.
‘You see up there? By that big rock?’ Fifty yards or so up ahead the water was smooth and still. ‘That’s where we’re headed. It’s wider and calmer there. Come on.’
As they approached, Tristan realised the boulder was wedged into the side of the path and it was a small step onto it. The top was flat, extending about eighteen feet, and hung over the edge of the water. The drop was only a little more than his height. He looked over.
‘How deep is it?’
‘There it’s about eight, maybe ten feet? It’s safe to jump.’ She took a bag off his shoulder and pulled out a picnic blanket. ‘When it’s busy here the kids spend all their time leaping off, swimming to the side, then doing it all over again. It’s only because we’re early that we can use it like this.’
Tristan looked at Sherilyn bent over, arse in the air as she arranged the blanket. She may have been thinking about food, but he certainly wasn’t.Rein it in.
‘You hungry?’ she asked, taking boxes out of another bag.
