A few hours later, Garret showed up with a few boxes of pizza and a six-pack of soda. Looking up as he walked, he let out a sharp whistle. “Wow.”
Clint had to admit, they’d accomplished more than he’d expected, or could have hoped.
“Good.” Alice stood from the makeshift table where she was sprinkling glitter on strips of seaweed they’d been taping to the wall, and stretched her back left then right. “You’re just in time to help with the streamers.”
Her son gave her a dip of his chin and a wide salute. Between bites of pizza and sips of cola the small group worked, laughed, and in the end, gave a sea of high fives.
“This looks pretty darn good for,” Alice looked down at her watch, “for only nine hours work. The paint on the waves will be fully dry by morning.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Sweet.” Mary turned around and offered her hand to Clint. “You too, Mr. Sweet.”
Jimmy and Martin’s jaws dropped, and their eyes bugged, but Alice and Garret seemed to take the confusion in stride. Clint, on the other hand, was struck dumb. What the heck was he supposed to say?
“Mary,” Garret waved to Clint, “this is our foreman, Clint Gibbons.”
“Oh,” the girl blushed, “sorry.”
“No worries.” Alice smiled at her. “Soon enough you’ll know everyone in town.” Alice leaned in conspiratorially, “And they’ll all know you.”
He wasn’t sure if she looked more flabbergasted at her mistaking him for a Sweet or the idea that everyone in town would know her business.
“Hey,” Martin looked up, “my mom is outside. She’s giving us all rides home.”
“Y’all run on. We’ll see you tomorrow night.” Garret waved at their backs. When they’d left the room, he turned to face his mother and Clint. “Since y’all are being so helpful, we’re short chaperones for tomorrow night.”
“I thought those days were behind me.” Alice chuckled.
Garret shrugged. “Please?”
His mom nodded. “I guess it won’t kill me.”
“Good.” He turned to face Clint. “And you?”
He turned to his boss. “If I can hitch a ride. Why not?”
Chapter Ten
Considering how many dresses Alice pulled out of her now small closet, anyone would think she was still in high school and this was her class dance instead of her being a full-grown adult with grandchildren.
A whistle sounded behind her. “Looking good.” Her son Preston stood in the doorway smiling. “Don’t think I’ve seen you this dressed up since, well, I don’t remember when.”
“Thank you.” She took one last look in the mirror and decided she wouldn’t embarrass anyone in her family, as long as she didn’t trip over her own two feet. Hopefully walking on four inch heels would be like riding a bike—you never forget.
“For what it’s worth, your date is waiting downstairs.”
“My what?” She spun around.
“Clint.”
Rolling her eyes, she shook her head at her son. “Really, Preston.”
“Hey, you razzed us enough when we were in high school. I figure this is probably my last chance.”
Sons. She doubted they’d ever outgrow that locker room humor. “Making you wear your tie straight and combing your hair does not count as razzing.”
Smiling like a young boy with that glint in his eyes, he merely shrugged before pushing away from the door jamb. “Seriously, Mom. You look great.”
“Thank you.”
