My eyes widened. “It is?”
Pat nodded, then cleared his throat, producing a deep, rumbling sound that echoed off the paneled walls. “It’s up to you to look out for these kids as if they’re your own. Same way it’s Matt’s job to look out for the buildings and property as if it was his.” New beads of sweat formed on his brow, glistening under the fluorescent light. “And you two, with the history you have! I couldn’t have picked a better team.”
I smiled.
“I just know this summer’s going to be one for the books.”
“I’ll do everything I can to make you proud,” I promised.
Later that night, I drove down the road to Matt’s house. I watched the dust cloud left behind by my tires fade into darkness as I knocked on the door. His truck was in the driveway, though he took a minute to answer. When he finally let me in, I could see why; he was wearing nothing but a towel.
“Hey,” he greeted me. “Come on in. Just give me a sec to get dressed.”
Caught off guard, I was hit with sensory overload. His wet body moved with the agility of a lifetime athlete, muscles pulsing in his back and arms as he strode away from me into his bedroom, leaving behind the clean scent of fresh deodorant and shampoo and a mental snapshot of his broad, strong chest with a tattoo of words running down his ribcage that I couldn’t read fast enough.Wow,I thought.Matt Thompson’s all grown up.
“What’s going on?” he called from the bedroom.
“Uh, nothing,” I responded absent-mindedly, taking in my first glimpses of the inside of his house. It was neat and plain. The walls were surprisingly lemon-yellow; I imagined this was not his doing.
“Bullshit,” he replied. A moment later, he emerged from the room in a fresh T-shirt and sweats. “You’ve got that look on your face.”
On the inside, I laughed.I wouldn’t make it five minutes at a poker table with this guy.
“So, what is it?” he asked, rubbing his towel against his head, his hair shaggy.
“Where were you at dinner?”
He combed through the wet locks, pushing them out of his face.
“I left you a voicemail. Didn’t you get it?”
“Oh. Sorry. I forgot my phone in my cabin today.” It was still on the coffee table, I remembered. "I'm not used to having a cell phone here. Crazy, huh?"
“Nah. I get that. Anyway, I was finishing painting the back side of the horse barn. I thought I would have it done by dinnertime, but it took longer than I expected, so I called to give you the heads up. Why? What’d I miss?”
“Turkey and mashed potatoes. Creamed spinach.Nothing crazy.”
“That sounds delicious, actually. I’m starving. But I meant with you. Why the face? Everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything’s good. Just nervous about the staff training.”
“I know, but you’re going to be great. I’ve never known someone so organized. You’ve got a binder for everything.”
I laughed. “I try.”
“Well, you’re running out of time since they get here tomorrow,” he reminded me, pulling on his sneakers. “You’re ready, right?”
“I hope so.”
“I’m just bummed I won’t get to be there for the Taylor show.”
“Believe me, that’s for the best. What’s on your schedule for tomorrow?”
“I need to fix the emergency lights at the Health Office. Marilyn also mentioned that the fridge there is leaking, and she’s got a cabinet she needs me to move.”
“Never a dull moment.”
“But I’ll try to pop in if I can. I’d love to see all your social work skills in action.”
