We got out of the truck and walked to the far side of the house. When the workers came into view, Scott stopped.
“Would you like to take another look at the gazebo site?”
Obviously, he didn’t want me with him. “Good idea. If you don’t find me waiting here when you’re done, you’ll know where I am.”
“It’ll be fifteen minutes or more.” He strode off.
I paused on the trail through the woods, hidden in the shadows, and watched Scott with his subcontractors. He’d seemed uncertain about how they would treat him with his father gone, but it didn’t look like a problem from here. They shook hands all around before Scott began to direct questions at the apparent leader of the team. She listened respectfully and gestured at the hole they were digging. If they had any issues with Scott’s age or authority, it wasn’t evident.
Turning, I continued down the path. Since I’d been here last, the approximate route for a new walking trail had been marked with orange ribbon. I followed it slowly, thinking about the trees that would have to be cut down and how we might balance the ambiance of tiny twinkling lights with sufficient illumination to see after dusk.
The clearing where parties would one day take place had patches of weeds, scraggly shrubs, and saplings. But once cleaned up, it would be a great spot, comfortably sized for a tent hosting small celebrations. Picking my way along the perimeter, I viewed the clearing from all angles. I ought to get Mom down here at dusk. She’d have opinions about elegant ways to illuminate this area.
A half hour had elapsed before I heard boots rustling in the underbrush. Rising from the worn, splintered bench that someone had set on the bluff eons ago, I watched as Scott approached. “Would you mind if I brought in my mother? I’d love to have her advice.”
“Sure. That’s fine.”
“Do you have a preferred wholesaler for the solar lights?”
“Yeah. I’ll text the name to you.” He drew even with me and frowned at the river.
I watched him with concern. He’d been on edge all day, but the intensity had ramped up since we’d arrived. “What’s wrong?”
“Am I so easy to read?”
“You are to me.”
His lips twisted. “The Miltons have booked a wedding for August first.”
I gasped. “As inthreeweeks?”
He nodded.
“Can you be done by then?”
“Not likely.”
“You have an agreement. They need to unbook the event.”
“Not an option. It’s for their nephew and his fiancée. Their other venue burned down, so the Miltons offered this one. They’re really happy that they’ve saved the day.” He turned to me, his face grim. “When I originally told them I could be done by mid-August, I expected to do most of the installation alone. That can’t happen now, not with my left arm in a sling for the next two weeks. After you dropped me off last night, I played with the schedule and got things adjusted, shifting the subcontractors around so the project could continue making progress. Then the Miltons gave me this surprise. Even if the weather cooperates and there are zero problems on every element, I can’t finish my share by August first. I neededmoretime, not less.”
“Can you just focus on the bare minimum required for the wedding?”
“Sure, but that’s still a major amount of work. We have to finish this site, the gazebo, the trail, and the flower beds at the entrance to the trail. I’ll be forced to bring in one of our crews to cover for me, and I don’t have that in the budget.”
“What will your father say?”
“Not much. He won’t have to; I know how mad he’ll be.” Scott sighed, his lips a tense slash in his face. “The plans were perfect. The money right. I had a shot at having this be a big success. And now it’ll be the exact opposite if I can’t figure something out.”
“Let me help. You’ll have to tell me how to do everything, but I promise to give it my all.”
“Thanks, Sara.” He cupped his fingers around the back of my neck, pulled me to him, and brushed his lips against my hair. “I’ll take you up on the offer, but it won’t be enough. You can’t make the difference I need.”
Not by myself, but if I had my genie with me, that would fix everything.
How many wishes did I have left? Ten? Twelve?
That might be enough wishes. I’d have to ask Grant first, though. He sometimes popped out with rules I didn’t expect. It would be better not to say anything until it was a done deal.
