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“Hiya, Bob. What are you doing with that?”
“Didn’t you hear? There’s a flood warning. I don’t want the animals getting soaked.”
“Can we help you?”
“That would be wonderful. Thank you.”
“Of course.”
As we head back with him, I can see Coral’s frame in the window. I laugh and think about how she should be the one out here—Miss animal rights—protecting the barn.
“Did I ever tell you that Coral spent a night in jail?” I yell through the storm at my son in an attempt to lighten the mood.
“No way! That’s so cool.”
“I don’t know if I’d say breaking the law is cool, but…”
“What did she do?”
“I guess she was protesting at her college back in the day. Something about animal testing.”
“You can get arrested for protesting?”
“Yeah, if you’re on private property or told to leave by police.”
“Huh. I didn’t realize that.”
“Yep.”
“Thanks so much for helping me out with this,” Bob says.
“Of course.”
“I know Mae would do it, but she’s taking a nap. She’s had a hard day…as you know.”
I do. It hasn’t been a particularly easy one for me, either.
After that, we work in silence and continue to walk back and forth from the house and stack the bags. I’d pull my truck over to make one load, but the ground is so soaked now I think I’d be in over the hubcaps.
When we have multiple layers stacked, Bob takes a step back to inspect them. Then, he wipes his hands together and says, “Well, I think that will do it. Thank you, fellas, so much, for the help. That would’ve taken me ages.”
“Happy to help, Bob.”
“Let’s get inside. Could I tempt you with some hot cocoa?” Bob offers.
“Thank you for the offer, but Coral is still at my place, so I’d better get back.”
“Understood.”
As we retreat back to our respective houses, I suggest that Dylan change into dry clothes.
“I don’t want you catching a cold.”
“That’s just an old wives’ tale,” he protests.
“It is not. Being out in the cold and rain lowers your immune system. Now, get.”
He rolls his eyes but eventually goes into his room. I go into my own and also change.
