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“Okay,” she said slowly as I walked out the front door.
The morning sun’s rays blazed through the leaves, blinding me momentarily. As I squinted past the fallen tree, I noticed a white van down the road. Huh, maybe there was someone here after all. I jogged down the gravel driveway and spotted two men with their hands on their hips surveying the road.
“Hey,” I called out to them.
They both turned in unison, looking me up and down. I wore a white t-shirt and gray shorts. I didn’t look like another worker. “Are you the guys from the tow truck company I called?”
“Mr. Crawford?” one man asked.
“Yes. That’s me.”
“Yes, sir. We underestimated the size of the tree, so we’re just waiting on a second truck to arrive to help us out. But it looks like it will be another couple of hours or so.”
I didn’t mind, but I had a feeling Grace wouldn’t welcome the news. “Thanks. I appreciate the update and you coming on short notice.” I had called them after firing Jared.
I jogged back to the cabin and spotted Grace’s silhouette holding a mug and peering through the screen door. She still had the pale blue shirt on and seeing her wait for me in that shirt pulled on some unrecognizable heartstring. I’d never thought of getting married before, but picturing my wife with her hair tousled, wearing nothing but my shirt, had an appeal I’d never realized before. It definitely had nothing to do with Grace in particular. Absolutely not.
“Will we be leaving soon?” she asked as I walked up the front steps.
“It’ll be another couple of hours, at least.”
She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. Despite the early hour, sweat gathered at the nape of my neck and the July air was stifling. Looking over Grace’s head, past the cabin’s windows, an idea popped into my head.
I smiled. “Come with me.”
“Where are you going?” she asked, her eyes narrowing.
I chuckled at her annoyance. “You’ll see.”
“I don’t like surprises, Luke.” She crossed her arms.
“I don’t think you’ll like this one, either. But you’ll thank me for it.”
She grimaced. “Egotistical much?”
“Come on, Sweeney. We don’t have all day.”
“I’ve got work to do. And—” I grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the back of the house.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she sputtered.
She wrenched her arm back and I stopped to look at her before asking, “Are you chicken, Grace?”
I tried not to smile when I saw her face contort. Oh, I knew how much she hated it when I called her chicken. Gritting her teeth, she said slowly, “Let me just put my mug down.”
Gently, she placed it on the kitchen counter. “Fine. What is it we need to do?”
“We need to begin your lessons.” I winked and walked out the back door. Hesitantly, she followed.
Standing in front of the lake, I removed my socks and shoes. I placed them on the grass before walking onto the sandy shore. Looking over my shoulder at Grace, her fingers pressed tightly into her arms. I pushed anyway. “Are you coming?”
She scanned the lake. “I don’t see a motorboat, a paddleboat, not even a life jacket anywhere. What are we doing?”
“You’re not going on any boat, Grace. I’m going to give you your first swimming lesson.”
She scoffed. “Well, sorry to disappoint you. But you’re not my first. I had swimming lessons when I was ten, and if you recall they went horribly wrong.”
I frowned. “I don’t recall you taking swimming lessons.”
