you. Come on.”
“Okay. Give me five.”
Flashing a fake smile, I let it drop away as soon as I shut the door. This woman is going to be the end of me. Finding a pair of shorts and my flip flops near the washer and dryer, I slipped them on and headed back toward the front door. Knowing how painful the walk at Bear Lake was with Paul, I grabbed my cane on the way back toward the door. As I came outside, Katie began to laugh as she watched from the driveway near her car.
“What are you laughing at? My cane?” I felt mortified.
Shaking her head, she pointed at my shorts. “Those trunks. They’re hideous.”
Glancing down at my tie-dye shorts, I snickered. “They are kinda ugly.”
Catching up to her in the driveway as she turned and began to walk, I glanced over at her. “Don’t you sleep? Or at least enjoy it?”
“Only on Tuesdays.” She grinned over at me.
I smiled.
We got out of the driveway and started walking up to the road. Thinking about the comment she made about my shorts, I said, “You should know these trunks were cool once.”
“When? The seventies? You’re not that old.”
I laughed. “I was born in the seventies. What about you? What are you wearing?” Tilting my head, I glanced at her back to see if I could spot a swimsuit underneath the over-sized white tee shirt she had on.
She pulled her shirt down over her shoulder to reveal the top of a black swim suit.
Raising my chin, I scoffed. “Oh, I see . . . solid black.” I rolled my eyes.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She let go of the shirt to let it go back up her shoulder.
“Oh, nothing. Just that you’re boring,” I said with a grin.
She laughed for a moment and then got a serious look on her face. Raising her chin, she responded, “It’s classy. Not boring.” She then jerked her head away from me enough to shake the pony tail that held her hair up that morning.
We turned and walked down the main street that stretched from the beginning of Suncrest at the top of the hill all the way down to the lake access point. As we walked down the side of the road, I peered up at the tops of the trees that had lined the road ever since I was a child. Closing my eyes, I was transported back to when I was just a young man and spent the summers out at my Uncle Tom’s house, which is now Janice’s, after he and his family moved to North Carolina eight years ago. Those summers at Tom’s were some of the best times of my life. My cousins and I would play volleyball in the side yard while the adults sat up on the porch and barbequed. Countless times, random laughter would echo from around the corner where the adults were and mixed with a smell of hamburgers sizzling on the barbeque. They were simple times, but they were unforgettable memories.
When we arrived at the gate at the lake’s access point, I turned to Katie and patted my back pocket. “I forgot my access pass.”
She looked over at the chair where the gate keeper’s butt usually sat and said, “No attendant. Plus, the pass won’t open this padlock.”
I grinned. “True.”
She grinned and then jumped up the side of the chain-link gate. Grabbing onto the top, she planted a foot and swung her body up and over to the other side.
Looking through the small openings in the chain-link, I asked, “I have a bad leg. How’s this supposed to work?”
“Land on your good leg, duh!” She began walking away from the gate toward the park. What kind of physical therapy is this? It’s more like torture!
Grabbing onto the gate, I tried jumping up but fell back down, landing in the gravel. This is stupid. Looking over near where the gate met the fence, I saw a small opening so I went over to it. Pushing the chain-link, I tried to size up the opening it made. I think I can do it. Pushing hard, I squeezed through.
Hopping as I ran with my cane, I fought through the pain and caught up to Katie as she was rounding a large tree near the docks. We spotted a lone fisherman
“Okay. Give me five.”
Flashing a fake smile, I let it drop away as soon as I shut the door. This woman is going to be the end of me. Finding a pair of shorts and my flip flops near the washer and dryer, I slipped them on and headed back toward the front door. Knowing how painful the walk at Bear Lake was with Paul, I grabbed my cane on the way back toward the door. As I came outside, Katie began to laugh as she watched from the driveway near her car.
“What are you laughing at? My cane?” I felt mortified.
Shaking her head, she pointed at my shorts. “Those trunks. They’re hideous.”
Glancing down at my tie-dye shorts, I snickered. “They are kinda ugly.”
Catching up to her in the driveway as she turned and began to walk, I glanced over at her. “Don’t you sleep? Or at least enjoy it?”
“Only on Tuesdays.” She grinned over at me.
I smiled.
We got out of the driveway and started walking up to the road. Thinking about the comment she made about my shorts, I said, “You should know these trunks were cool once.”
“When? The seventies? You’re not that old.”
I laughed. “I was born in the seventies. What about you? What are you wearing?” Tilting my head, I glanced at her back to see if I could spot a swimsuit underneath the over-sized white tee shirt she had on.
She pulled her shirt down over her shoulder to reveal the top of a black swim suit.
Raising my chin, I scoffed. “Oh, I see . . . solid black.” I rolled my eyes.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She let go of the shirt to let it go back up her shoulder.
“Oh, nothing. Just that you’re boring,” I said with a grin.
She laughed for a moment and then got a serious look on her face. Raising her chin, she responded, “It’s classy. Not boring.” She then jerked her head away from me enough to shake the pony tail that held her hair up that morning.
We turned and walked down the main street that stretched from the beginning of Suncrest at the top of the hill all the way down to the lake access point. As we walked down the side of the road, I peered up at the tops of the trees that had lined the road ever since I was a child. Closing my eyes, I was transported back to when I was just a young man and spent the summers out at my Uncle Tom’s house, which is now Janice’s, after he and his family moved to North Carolina eight years ago. Those summers at Tom’s were some of the best times of my life. My cousins and I would play volleyball in the side yard while the adults sat up on the porch and barbequed. Countless times, random laughter would echo from around the corner where the adults were and mixed with a smell of hamburgers sizzling on the barbeque. They were simple times, but they were unforgettable memories.
When we arrived at the gate at the lake’s access point, I turned to Katie and patted my back pocket. “I forgot my access pass.”
She looked over at the chair where the gate keeper’s butt usually sat and said, “No attendant. Plus, the pass won’t open this padlock.”
I grinned. “True.”
She grinned and then jumped up the side of the chain-link gate. Grabbing onto the top, she planted a foot and swung her body up and over to the other side.
Looking through the small openings in the chain-link, I asked, “I have a bad leg. How’s this supposed to work?”
“Land on your good leg, duh!” She began walking away from the gate toward the park. What kind of physical therapy is this? It’s more like torture!
Grabbing onto the gate, I tried jumping up but fell back down, landing in the gravel. This is stupid. Looking over near where the gate met the fence, I saw a small opening so I went over to it. Pushing the chain-link, I tried to size up the opening it made. I think I can do it. Pushing hard, I squeezed through.
Hopping as I ran with my cane, I fought through the pain and caught up to Katie as she was rounding a large tree near the docks. We spotted a lone fisherman
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