Page 22 of Grown-Up Second Chance

“Give me a break,” I said. “Fuller Brush Men didn’t come around even when we were kids.”

“Liz said they came by once a month,” she countered. “And the last one was still delivering products in 2013.”

“Why do you know this stuff?” I asked.

“Good morning, ladies,” Henry said with a smile. “It looks like it’s dumping time.”

“Um, yes,” I said. “So Kathleen says.”

“Well, let me help you with that.” He snatched the extra pair of gloves from Kathleen’s hand and snapped them on. “I’m an expert dumper. I can show you all the tricks of the trade.”

“That’s kind of you,” Kathleen said. “But my sister and I have it handled.” She snatched the gloves back and thrust them in my direction.

I hid my sigh as I took them.

Kathleen led me to the hole where the bright orange and brown sewer pipe led from the bowels of the RV to someplace deep in the earth. A momentary flash of a great big tank swarming with all kinds of unmentionable objects under my feet made my stomach flip.

“Cut it out,” Kathleen said. “It’s no different from city sewers.”

But city sewers didn’t require me to get up close and personal with them.

“I see you got one of those splitters like I told you. Good girl,” Henry commented.

No, he didn’t say that.

Kathleen stiffened.

Yep. He did.

I cleared my throat as I finally pulled the blue gloves on. “We’ve got this,” I told Henry.

“I’m sure you do,” he said, actually patting my arm. “I’m only here in case anything gets … um … stuck.” Then he roared with laughter and slapped his thigh. “Get it? Gets stuck! Ha!”

Kathleen crouched down by the Y where the two sewer pipes connected. “This one’s gray water. This one’s black. Most of the time, all we need to do is dump the gray water. That’s what I’m going to do today.”

“Can’t wait too long on the black water. Don’t want things getting stopped up,” Henry said. He laughed again.

The muscles in Kathleen’s arms flexed. Henry may have worked the oil fields, but my money would be on the woman who yanked calves from their mothers for over forty years.

I turned to Henry. The sewer lesson could wait a moment.

“It looks like all we have is the gray water today,” I said to him. “And I’m not too worried about it. Kathleen’s been handling shit for decades. She’s more than capable.” I took a step away from the RV, hoping to herd him back to the pasture where he belonged.

For a moment he looked longingly at Kathleen and the sewer line. Then he took a step in the right direction.

“So, how long are you here again?” I asked. “You said you needed to get back to your wife in Oklahoma.”

“Um? What? Oh, yes. I need to get back. She called me last night. She’s anxious to see me.” Once again he glanced back at Kathleen.

Unfortunately, my sister had maneuvered herself into a position where her ass was broadside to us.

“How long have you been gone?” I asked.

“About eight months. I tried to make it back for the holidays.” He shrugged. “But you know how that goes.”

I knew exactly how that went. The girlfriend won out over the wife. Road warriors of all stripes were far too tempted when they were away from home. In my forties, I’d fended off more than one conventiongoer who’d suggested we have a little fun.

Taking his arm, I steered him back to his rig. “My sister just buried her husband of forty years,” I said in a confidential whisper. “She loved him very much. It’s going to take a long time before she considers another relationship. If she ever does.” I shook my head in mock sadness.

---