“The quarterback of lumberjacks,” I quipped with a chuckle.
Silas snorted. “Now I’m going to picture you calling plays in a huddle with a bunch of bearded giants in plaid shirts.”
“We don’t do much huddling, but that’s the gist.”
We were quiet for a minute or two. I toyed with turning on some music to break the silence, but I didn’t want to be rude. Problem was, I’d officially reached my socializing capacity for the day—and it was just eight a.m.
“Do you?—”
“What do people?—”
We shared a smile and each insisted the other go first.
Silas eventually complied. “I was just going to ask what you do for fun in Wood Hollow.”
“Me, personally…nothing. My kids keep me running like a madman to dance lessons, flag football practices, and playdates. I usually need time to rest and recoup in between visits. But there’s plenty to do here. Ice fishing, cross-country skiing, hiking, sledding. Lake Norman is mostly frozen now. There are areas that are safe to skate on. We have some great terrain on the hill into Elmwood for snowmobiling too.”
He nodded. “Sounds fun. How many kids do you have?”
“Two. Ivy’s eleven, and Chase is nine.”
“Who plays flag football?”
“They both do. Chase is more serious about it, but he’s busy with hockey too, and Ivy is doing some kind of hip-hop jazz combo class in Fallbrook that’s supposedly super neat.” I could have kept going. Those two knuckleheads were my favorite people in the universe. If Silas was a parent, he probably felt the same about his children. If he had any. He said he didn’t have a family, but…
“Do you have kids?”
“No. Hey, it looks like the Suburban is holding things up now. Can you get around it?”
Another diversion, another hint taken.
I edged into the center lane just as a logging truck crested the hill and slipped into safety behind the Suburban. “This is our version of morning traffic.”
Silas snorted. “It beats sitting bumper-to-bumper on the 405.”
“I bet. I think I have an opening in three, two—” I punched the gas and sped past the Suburban. The double yellow lines on the road were pure ice as I hung a sharp left onto Main Street, and my wheels weren’t immune. We skidded slightly…nothing I hadn’t done a thousand times.
“Whoa!”
“And now you know why the Lexus needs chains.”
“Yes, sir,” he deadpanned.
I snickered and hooked my thumb meaningfully. “There’s the market, and on the next block…coffee shop, bank, diner, bakery, and lots more. I’d take you straight to Rise and Grind, but it’s a little congested up ahead and?—”
“No, no. This is perfect. Thanks again.” Silas unfastened his seat belt and inclined his head. “It was nice to meet you.”
“You too. Hey, let me give you my number…in case you need anything.”
He looked as if he might argue for a moment. “It probably would be a good idea to have a human connection if I lose power or something later.”
“I’m sure you have a generator. Power shouldn’t be a problem, but LA folks don’t always know how to put chains on their wheels,” I said as we exchanged contact info. “Don’t hesitate to call if you need a lesson.”
A smile lit his eyes, crinkling them at the corners. “LA guys can do anything Wood Swallow guys can do better.”
“Smartass.” I waited till he’d climbed out and added, “Good to meet you, Silas.”
“You too.”
