terrible crush on that stupid boy-band singer when I was a teenager and wrote him millions of stupid, gushy letters to which he never replied. Thank goodness. And worst of all, you know I flunked getting my driver’s license three times and only got it on the fourth go because I sucked off the testing guy while parked around the corner from the police station.”
I was giggling by then. “Yes. And you know how disappointed I am in that. After all, I got my license on the first go and didn’t have to stoop to that. I remember that guy coming around to your house a couple of times—and man, was he hot.”
We spent a couple of minutes reminiscing about our teen years before I remembered my own problems and let out another wail. “But Kris, hiking? Me? I mean, how many things in the bush can kill you? I’m certain to find 98 percent of them before I’ve gone three steps.”
“Then call him back and tell him to come to your house for a barbeque.”
“I can’t,” I cried. “Remember? I forgot to turn the gas off and it melted?”
Kris sighed. “Then call him back and invite yourself to his house for a barbeque. Tell him that you’ll make the salad and then do up one of your scrumptious creations. But don’t use the big knife.”
That was good advice since I needed stitches the last time I used it.
“So when am I going to see a picture of this man?” Kris demanded. “With a name like Harley, I’m visualizing a big biker guy, despite the description you gave me.”
I turned beet red. “You’ve already seen him. I drew him from memory. Do you know that picture of the guy on the beach?”
Kris yelped in excitement. “The one you sent me with the big guy naked on the towel?”
“Yes.”
“That’s Harley?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, my God. He is scrumptious, Shawn. How did you know what he has under his shorts?” Kris wanted to know.
“I didn’t. Not then, anyway. That bit was imagined.”
“So when do I get to see the real bit? Do you think you could draw me a picture after your Sunday date? No—scratch that. I want a painting. A drawing is just black and white. I want glorious color for this picture.”
I laughed and told him that I would send him something better—two men, neither of whom I was dating, but hot just the same. I could hear him pouting, so I promised to put them in cowboy boots and hats, and nothing else, and he rang off happy.
I decided I’d tell Harley in person about the need to change our date location, so I dug up a few more extraneous strawberry plants and carted them to the front at exactly 3:58 p.m. I found a bit of shade that would cover me while I waited and began to pull some weeds and dig holes for the plants.
“Now that’s what I like to see.”
Harley’s voice behind me had me nearly falling over in surprise. I looked around at the neat rows of strawberry plants and asked, “Do you like them? I have to admit they’re my favorite dessert.”
“Huh?”
I frowned. “You said that’s what you like to see. The strawberry plants. Do you like to eat strawberries, then?”
Harley smiled as if I didn’t quite get the joke. “Yes. I like strawberries. Are you offering yours?”
I picked up my trowel and got to my feet. “It’s the end of summer, so I don’t have a lot of them in the garden at the moment. Some of the plants that are in the shade are giving me fruit, but they’re not huge. If you like, I’ll save some for you?”
“That would be nice,” he replied, a flirty little smile still hanging around his face.
I concluded there was a personal joke going on behind that smile and decided to ignore it. “Anyway, I’m glad you dropped by,” I said. “I was going to ask you if we could change our plans for Sunday?”
“Sure. What did you have in mind?”
I hesitated, not wanting to scare the guy off. “It’s just that I don’t think hiking and me would be a good fit. Things tend to go awry around me, and I don’t want to be in the middle of
I was giggling by then. “Yes. And you know how disappointed I am in that. After all, I got my license on the first go and didn’t have to stoop to that. I remember that guy coming around to your house a couple of times—and man, was he hot.”
We spent a couple of minutes reminiscing about our teen years before I remembered my own problems and let out another wail. “But Kris, hiking? Me? I mean, how many things in the bush can kill you? I’m certain to find 98 percent of them before I’ve gone three steps.”
“Then call him back and tell him to come to your house for a barbeque.”
“I can’t,” I cried. “Remember? I forgot to turn the gas off and it melted?”
Kris sighed. “Then call him back and invite yourself to his house for a barbeque. Tell him that you’ll make the salad and then do up one of your scrumptious creations. But don’t use the big knife.”
That was good advice since I needed stitches the last time I used it.
“So when am I going to see a picture of this man?” Kris demanded. “With a name like Harley, I’m visualizing a big biker guy, despite the description you gave me.”
I turned beet red. “You’ve already seen him. I drew him from memory. Do you know that picture of the guy on the beach?”
Kris yelped in excitement. “The one you sent me with the big guy naked on the towel?”
“Yes.”
“That’s Harley?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, my God. He is scrumptious, Shawn. How did you know what he has under his shorts?” Kris wanted to know.
“I didn’t. Not then, anyway. That bit was imagined.”
“So when do I get to see the real bit? Do you think you could draw me a picture after your Sunday date? No—scratch that. I want a painting. A drawing is just black and white. I want glorious color for this picture.”
I laughed and told him that I would send him something better—two men, neither of whom I was dating, but hot just the same. I could hear him pouting, so I promised to put them in cowboy boots and hats, and nothing else, and he rang off happy.
I decided I’d tell Harley in person about the need to change our date location, so I dug up a few more extraneous strawberry plants and carted them to the front at exactly 3:58 p.m. I found a bit of shade that would cover me while I waited and began to pull some weeds and dig holes for the plants.
“Now that’s what I like to see.”
Harley’s voice behind me had me nearly falling over in surprise. I looked around at the neat rows of strawberry plants and asked, “Do you like them? I have to admit they’re my favorite dessert.”
“Huh?”
I frowned. “You said that’s what you like to see. The strawberry plants. Do you like to eat strawberries, then?”
Harley smiled as if I didn’t quite get the joke. “Yes. I like strawberries. Are you offering yours?”
I picked up my trowel and got to my feet. “It’s the end of summer, so I don’t have a lot of them in the garden at the moment. Some of the plants that are in the shade are giving me fruit, but they’re not huge. If you like, I’ll save some for you?”
“That would be nice,” he replied, a flirty little smile still hanging around his face.
I concluded there was a personal joke going on behind that smile and decided to ignore it. “Anyway, I’m glad you dropped by,” I said. “I was going to ask you if we could change our plans for Sunday?”
“Sure. What did you have in mind?”
I hesitated, not wanting to scare the guy off. “It’s just that I don’t think hiking and me would be a good fit. Things tend to go awry around me, and I don’t want to be in the middle of
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