Late night department stores had their uses. Bo and Lucky didn’t run into many other customers on their way to the yard and garden section.
Bo trudged along after Lucky. “What are we looking for again?”
“I’ll know when I find it.”
“Couldn’t this wait until tomorrow?”
“No!” It couldn’t. No way, no how. This needed doing.
They wound their way around patio furniture, umbrellas… Bo stopped. “This set would look real nice—Ack!”
Lucky dragged Bo by the arm past the furniture. “Later.” After they’d completed their mission.
Finally they arrived at the display he’d sought. Oh shit. Four models to choose from.
“Eenie, meenie, minee, moe,” he muttered under his breath. Metal? Stone? Chimney?
Bo edged closer. “Mind telling what we’re doing here?”
“I think the backyard needs a fire pit, don’t you? Which one do you like? I like that one.” He pointed to the biggest. Bigger had to be better, right?
“Hmmm… while I can’t understand why we have to do this now, I like this one too. Just think, we can sit outside, light a fire…”
“Let’s get it and go.” Choice made. Now to put plans into action. He would have already made arrangements, but he’d learned to let Bo help him pick things out for the house. Yes, he could be taught.
Bo smacked Lucky’s hand and inserted himself between Lucky and the prize. “If you even get a notion about lifting so much weight, I’ll cuff you and haul your ass outta here.” He called a sales clerk over for help.
As long as they didn’t take all night. Next, shopping for accessories, then getting out of the store and loading the truck.
Bo hunched his shoulders and leaned against the loaded Durango. Three young men barely out of high school wrangled their purchase into the vehicle. “I don’t understand why we couldn’t do this tomorrow. What’s so all fired important about tonight?”
“You’ll see.” Fourth of July weekend. Three days of nothing to do.
Yeah, they’d find something to do, all right. Lucky held his hand out for the keys. His mission. He’d do the driving, even though his car’s tiny trunk would have laughed at what he’d bought.
“It’s my SUV. You could let me drive.” Trust Bo to be stubborn.
“Could, yeah. Am I? No.” Bo drove too slow and stopped for yellow lights. Lucky cruised right on through and got them home in five minutes flat. Hey! A new record.
Bo made of show of peeling his fingers away from the dashboard. “Planning a second career as an Indy car driver?”
Oh, the horrors! “Bite your tongue, man. We both know NASCAR is the only race worth watching.” At least in his father’s eyes—the reason he named his kids after NASCAR tracks.
Redneck, through and through.
Bo jumped out of the Durango before Lucky and beat him to the back of the vehicle. “Let me get this. You’re not supposed to lift anything heavy.”
“You can’t carry it alone.” One man couldn’t lift the damned thing by himself, let alone lug the monstrosity to the backyard. Of course, they could try tying the box to Moose and using him for a pack animal.
“Y’all need some help?”
Lucky jumped. How did the guy from next door always know when they needed something? First thing tomorrow, he’d check the yard for cameras.
Bo gave Lucky a triumphant grin and turned toward the neighbor. “Please, if you don’t mind. Lucky here had surgery recently and can’t lift. Can you help me get this out of the truck?”
Recently? A month and a half. Ancient history.
Lucky tuned out the introductions beyond, “I don’t think I’ve ever properly introduced myself. I’m Stanley Taylor.” Like the guy had to say so. Lucky’d taken his name off the mailbox and planned to run a full background check the moment he found time.
