“It’s fine. She works late and doesn’t spend much time here.” I change the subject, and we talk about the weird texts and how nothing ended up coming from them.
“That’s a relief.” He regards me more closely. “Are you doing alright? After having that brought up again?” My only response is a nod, and he accepts it.
The busted culvert we need to fix is at the edge of the driveway to cabin three. Arlow stands over it and lets out a long whistle as he stares down at the warped drainage pipe. “That thing looks like it got into a fight with a dump truck.”
“It definitely lost. I’ll get the sandbags if you’ll grab the tarp.” While I pile the sandbags to stop the flow of water temporarily, Arlow spreads a tarp out beside the culvert.
I hand him a shovel. “Here. You dig that side. I’ll take this one.” We drop down into the ditch and start digging. The dirt’s heavy from last night’s rain, and it lands with a wet thump on the tarp. A rock smacks the edge of his shovel, making a crack that echoes through the pipe. “Was that your shovel or your spine?” I call.
“My back is fine. Do you have a knee brace on under those muddy jeans, old man?”
“Fuck off.” We clear enough soil to reveal the damaged area right across the top of the pipe. No wonder the water decided to take a shortcut straight into the woods.
“Well,” Arlow says, pushing a clump of mud aside, “that’s broke as hell. Are we just replacing the section?”
“That’s the plan.” I pick up the reciprocating saw and start to cut away the damaged section of corrugated metal. The saw bucks, nearly hopping out of my hands.
“Quit fighting it,” he says.
“I’m not fighting it.” My words come out through gritted teeth. “I’m gently persuading it.”
“Looks real persuaded.”
I swear under my breath, but eventually the damaged chunk gives and drops into the mud where I kick it out of the way. “Easy part’s done,” I announce. “Let’s slide the new section in, clamp it, and call it a day.” We grab the replacement piece and try to slide it into place. It goes in an inch, sticks, and refuses to move another millimeter.
Arlow shoves it. “Stubborn son of a bitch.”
I plant my boots and push too. “We need more leverage.”
“We need someone smarter than us.”
“Then we’re screwed.”
He snorts, grabs the coupling, and jerks his chin. “Lift your end.” We wiggle, swear, adjust angles, and shove again. The pipe suddenly pops into alignment so fast we both freeze like we might scare it back apart if we breathe wrong.
Arlow nods at me. “Nailed it.”
“Oh yeah, we’re a couple of pros.” We clamp everything tight and start backfilling. I shovel while Arlow tamps it down. We get the last layer compacted, pull the sandbags aside to let the water flow, and watch the stream run smoothly through the culvert.
A rattle in the bushes catches my attention, but it’s just a squirrel. I’m surprised Rogue hasn’t showed up. She usually comes to investigate the sound of power tools. “I’m going to make a pot of chili if you want dinner,” I offer as we reload my truck with the sandbags and tools.
“Thanks, but I need to get back. Calli and Mom are cooking a big family dinner. That reminds me, you’re invitedfor Thanksgiving. Silver too, but I’m sure Calli has already mentioned it to her.”
We climb back in the truck and start toward my place. “I appreciate it. I’ll let you know.” It’s not happening and we both know it. I don’t give two shits about the holidays.
“How’s Silver doing? Calli’s really worried about her.”
“She’s holding it together. If they’d stop delaying with the cause of the fire so the insurance would pay, she'd be a lot better.”
“No doubt.” He hesitates before asking. “Are you interested in her?”
“You know better than that.” He’s known me for years and understands why I’ll never be serious with anyone again.
“I know it’s none of my business, but like I said, Calli’s worried about her. Silver told her you two were hooking up again, and with her living here…just be careful, okay? She doesn’t need any more hurt.”
We pull into my driveway. “I hear you. There’s nothing to worry about. We talked about it and she doesn’t want anything more than I do. Or to put it in her words. ‘I don’t need a man making things worse.’”
Arlow chuckles. “That sounds like her.”
