Chapter 1

“I’m awake,” I mumbled.

“It’s seven-fifteen. I’ve got breakfast waiting but you have to hurry. You don’t want to be late on your first day.”

I rubbed my eyes and tried to get a grip on reality. It was Monday. Kim was asleep next to me. Mrs. Diedrich had passed away and my brother was married. Also, I was hungry and I didn’t have a lot of time before Hector’s crew picked me up for my first day.

I looked over at Kim before I got up. She was beautiful when she was sleeping. Who was I kidding? She was probably beautiful when she was blowing her nose. She was just beautiful. She had dragged the air mattress out into the backyard so we could sleep together after I learned that Mrs. Diedrich had passed away. I wasn’t going to get a better consolation than that.

I jogged to the house and grabbed the healthy breakfast Mom had put together for me and carried it into the bathroom. I wasn’t sure how beneficial a shower was before doing manual labor but I needed it to wake up. I managed not to choke on giant bites as I rinsed off and got dressed. After close inspection, I decided I could go another day without shaving. Huh!

I grabbed the lunch Mom had made, received a welcome kiss on the cheek and an unwelcome pat on the butt, and went to the garage to grab some work gloves. Hector drove a truck and pulled a trailer with equipment so I figured this crew would, too. I walked down to the curb so they wouldn’t feel the need to pull into the driveway and have to turn around.

I stood on the curb, thinking of all the things I wished I’d said to Mrs. Diedrich while Don MacLean’s American Pie rattled around in my head. I popped out of my daydream when a truck pulled up across the street. I took inventory of equipment on the trailer, trying to get a feel for what I’d be doing but I guessed that was up to the crew leader. I walked across the street and approached the driver’s open window.

“Mr. Sahagan?” I asked.

“Art,” he answered. “You ready to work?” he asked, sizing me up.

“I’m ready to work.”

“Let’s find out. Hop in,” he said, in English that didn’t have much of an accent. This was supposed to be their Spanish-speaking crew.

I climbed into the back and was introduced to two other very dark Mexicans. Art looked to be about thirty-five or so. Emilio had shotgun and he looked to be in his early forties. Emanuel went by Manny and sat in the back with me. He had an awesome mustache and was the youngest, besides me. I was easily the tallest of the four but I knew that didn’t mean much when we put gloves on to work.

“Here’s how it works, gringo,” Art said, as we pulled away. “We get paid by the hour but not really. Each job has a time allowance for it. If we’re scheduled to spend an hour at a house, we get paid for an hour whether it takes thirty minutes or two hours.”

“So don’t fool around,” I said.

“Exactly. If we get ahead, we can be done with the week by Thursday afternoon or get paid for a rain day. But...” he said and waited for me to finish. I could tell he was waiting for it and Manny and Emilio looked at me to see my response.

I thought about it a minute. “But we don’t cut corners because we want our customers to be satisfied and we don’t want to lose them.”

“That’s right,” Art said and I could see him nodding.

We pulled up to our first job and parked on the street. “Hector said you wanted to work on your Spanish,” Art said as we gathered at the trailer. I nodded. “Okay. Safety in English, though, until I know how much you understand.” He went over all the safety issues for each piece of equipment and asked me which I was familiar with. I was familiar with everything except for a small chainsaw on a pole and I’d never used a riding mower before.

“We all saw where you live. We’ve done your yard. You know all this?” he asked. What he meant was, that I came from a wealthy family and would have no reason to know their tools.

“I do. I’m also pretty good with a chain saw, know how to pressure wash a house without taking the paint off and I can operate a Bobcat if the need arises.” They were all looking at me with a healthy dose of skepticism. I decided to feed it a little. “As long as I don’t have to sweat, I’m good,” I said and bit my lip to keep from laughing.

“Okay, gringo. Let’s see if you can get through the rest of the day without sweating.” For the rest of the day, we all spoke a lot more Spanish than English and I struggled to keep up.

Apparently, they had decided that Manny was going to be my partner for the day and he showed me the ropes. He showed me a piece of equipment and told me what needed to be done. I did it and moved on to the next thing. I noticed how quickly they worked. I didn’t want them waiting on me and did my best to pull my weight. I’d heard the phrase lazy Mexican before but wherever it came from, it wasn’t from this crew.

We took turns, doing a different job at each home. I asked Art about it. In Spanish, he said, “It can become boring. Switching makes it a little more interesting. And everybody takes a turn mowing. You get to rest.” It was a simple thing but made sense.

We stopped for lunch at a Chinese buffet and I noticed for the first time there were a lot of contractors. One price for all you can eat was probably pretty attractive. That, and you didn’t have to wait. It made sense. I left my lunch in the truck and ate inside but I wouldn’t do that in the future. I was saving up.

They talked as we ate and I tried to keep up with the conversation. It wasn’t easy and I’m sure I missed most of it. Emilio told a story or joke that Art and Manny thought was hilarious.

“¿No crees que es gracioso?” Art asked, looking at me. I translated it in my head. ‘Didn’t I think it was funny?’ seemed right.

“Lo he escuchado antes,” I answered with a straight face and took another bite. I’d said that I’d heard it before.

They looked at me for a minute, trying to decide if I was telling the truth. Manny realized I was full of it and started laughing and then Art and Emilio did too. I think that joke was when they decided I was okay and sort of accepted me as part of the team.

Everything after lunch was in one neighborhood of Johns Island so we didn’t have a lot of time between stops. I’d been doing a lot of hedge trimming and then weed whacking at a house with a large yard when the amount of work I’d been doing sort of caught up with me. One minute, I was fine, and the next, I was just about done. We climbed back in the truck, this time with Emilio driving and Art in the back.

“Are you okay, my friend,” he asked.

“Not used to it. I’ll be okay,” I said and I know I got the verb tenses all messed up but he understood.

“It’s a long day if you’re not accustomed to it,” he said in English. “Stay put at the next house. Rest.”

“No. I can do it,” I said, but I don’t think I was very convincing.

“If I tell you to mow, what do you do?” he asked.

“Mow.”

“That’s right. If I tell you to edge, what do you do?”

“Edge.”

“That’s right. I’m telling you to take a break. It’s a small yard. Here,” he said, handing me a cup. “Drink some water.”

I took the cup, sighed, and slumped back in the seat and Art laughed. He was right. I needed the rest and it was a small yard. We were back on the road in no time and I did feel better. We got to the next house and Art pointed me to the riding mower.

“Tómalo con calma, ese,” he said and I nodded, climbed on, and backed the mower down the ramp. I would ease back into it.

I mowed both front and back, watching the other guys work while I rode. No way I was going to tómalo con calma manana. I finished and rode the mower back up onto the trailer, then walked around back to see what was left. I got there just in time to pick up the blower and a rake and walk them back out to the truck.

It was the last yard of the day. Art drove back to his house and said Emilio would take me home. I promised to do better the next day, and he assured me I did fine, we said goodbye and I climbed into Emilio’s truck. It was a quiet drive back to my house. He pulled into the driveway and stopped. Kim’s truck was there and I started to get out. He put his hand on my shoulder to stop me as he looked at our house. I lived in a two-story colonial, eight-bedroom home with a five-car garage and a pool in the back. He’d probably done our yard before. I knew what he was thinking.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked, in English. “Why are you working with your hands?” He knew I didn’t have to.

I told him. He seemed like he wanted to know and I didn’t want to make light of that. “I need to. I have money but I didn’t work for it. I need money that I’ve earned to pay for something that can’t be free to me.” He nodded and looked back from the house to me. “I have a girlfriend. I want to marry her and I can’t give her a ring I didn’t earn. It wouldn’t mean anything. I have a good start on it. I think I have eight hundred saved up, but I’ll have to work all summer to earn the rest. Three thousand,” I said.

He looked at me and whistled through his teeth. “That’s a lot for a ring,” he said.

Just then, Kim came out of the house and started walking toward the truck. She had on neon pink shorts that showed off her tanned legs and a tight-fitting lime green crop-top that showed off her toned stomach. She’d had her hair done for my brother’s wedding and it still looked perfect, with gentle brown curls falling on her shoulders. Her laser-sharp eyebrows framed amazing big brown eyes but it was her full lips in a smile that showed off her dimples that always did me in. Emilio whistled again.

“Three thousand is not enough, ese. You need to work harder tomorrow,” he said and laughed as I got out of the truck. “She’s beautiful, ese. Preciosa.” I closed the door and he backed down the driveway without turning around.

“Hey baby,” she said raising her arms to hug me but when I got close she held her palms out to stop me. “Ew. You’re stinky. I’m not hugging you,” she said and we laughed and turned toward the house.

She held my stinky hand and we walked in together. I greeted Mom, at work in the kitchen. “I’m starving,” I said

“Hello, to you, too,” she said. “How’d it go?”

“Otra mas in español, por favor.”

“Nope. You can get all your Spanish at work.”

“Good. Hard work. Those guys don’t fool around,” I said and told her how the pay and hours thing worked. Mom pushed a plate of shrimp and cocktail sauce to me to munch on while she finished. I told her about each of the guys and how funny Emilio was. I told her they were taking care of me and she nodded. We both knew Hector had prepped them.

“Sounds like you had a pretty good day,” Mom said. “Why don’t you rinse off and dinner will be ready in twenty minutes. Obviously, the shrimp platter isn’t going to last you. Short ribs, Savannah red rice, and collards. Banana pudding for dessert. Go.”

“Dang, Mom. What got into you?”

“I’ve cooked enough Indian, Thai, and Mediterranean for a while. I thought you could use a little Lowcountry,” she said.

I planned on racing to my room to rinse off but I was too tired for that. I think I might have ambled. That’s it. I ambled to my room. Kim would have approved and so would Louis L’Amour.

It didn’t take long and I was back in the kitchen. I grabbed a seat and we dug in. Mom was a good cook and unafraid to try anything. I liked the variety but I loved when she cooked American food.

“Tell us about it,” she said as Dane walked in, washed his hands at the sink, and took a seat.

“I’m going to need a bib,” he said, looking at the three of us with faces sticky from the ribs. We smiled, he laughed and started eating without a bib.

I told them about my day and each of the guys in a little more detail. I even told them about needing to take a break and how Art wouldn’t let me work at one of the houses. It was obvious how pissed I was that I’d wimped out.

“You’re not indestructible, you know,” Mom said.

“I can run ten miles or hit the heavy bag for ten rounds. It shouldn’t be that hard,” I complained.

“You’ll get used to it. You remember how you felt after spending a day with Wash, nailing shingles to a roof.” I must not have seemed convinced. “By way of reminder, you broke your foot, almost died in a car crash, and have been thoroughly exhausted on numerous occasions, this year. You are not indestructible.”

I looked over at Kim who hadn’t said a word. She was busy devouring ribs. I watched her eat for a minute. Mom and Dane followed my gaze and Kim realized we were all watching her.

She looked up from her ribs and asked, “What? I’m worn out from today, too.”

“Really?” I asked, wondering what she could be worn out from.

“Yes. Really. I was working hard all day and now I’m hungry.”

I looked at Mom for an explanation but it wasn’t going to come. “Tired from working on what?” I asked.

“My tan. I worked on it all day. I took off a couple of minutes for a quick lunch and that’s it,” she said and grabbed another rib, almost inviting a challenge. Dane looked at me to see how I would respond.

Make points or lose points. It was a no-brainer. “Baby, if how you look is any indication of how hard you worked at it, you must be starved.”

“Exactly,” she said and took another bite.

“You heard that, right, Dane?” Mom said.

“Oh, I heard. Learning new things every day. The kid is wise beyond his years.”

Kim nodded and tried to wipe the sauce off her face but it was too much for the poor napkin. “Mrs. P, I hate to eat and run,” she said.

“I know, sweetheart. Have fun,” Mom answered.

“What did I miss?” I asked.

“I’m picking up Mel and I need to run home and change first.”

“What are you two up to?” I asked, still not sure what was up.

“We’re going riding and I need to change into jeans and grab my boots.”

“I didn’t know she rode.” This was new, I thought. Giggles, horseback riding?

“She doesn’t. Well, she hasn’t until tonight. She wants to give it a shot.”

“I think I’d pay to see that. Isn’t it going to be too late, by the time you get there?”

“Indoor arena,” she said. “Under the lights. I just want to get her up on a horse so she can get a feel for it. I hope she wants more but not everyone does.”

“And Bobby?” I asked.

“If she likes it, he will probably give it a try too. He watches you, you know?”

“What do you mean?”

“Bobby Claire has never dated before. Mel, either. Not really. They both watch us, but Bobby especially watches you. He knows what you’re up to this summer, saving for a ring for me. He’s watching that.”

“Bobby Claire isn’t Jack,” Mom said.

“No,” Kim answered. “If he was, I’d be dating him. He has a car.”

“Ouch.” Kim pushed back from the table, gave me a quick barbeque-sauce-sticky peck on the cheek, and was gone. That was a bit of a surprise. And then I wondered if Mel would be riding Ghost. I’d come to think of Ghost as my horse but, obviously, he wasn’t.

“Caught you off guard, Buddy?” Mom asked, smiling.

“Yeah. A little. I just realized I sort of think of Ghost as my horse and that’s not right. It’s kind of weird.” I needed a change of subject. “Do you know when Mrs. Diedrich’s funeral is?”

“Thursday evening. Sandy called. It’s at Saint Michael’s at seven.”

Charleston had so many old churches that the city had the nickname, The Holy City. With all the grand old churches with their tall steeples and giant pipe organs, Saint Michael’s was the oldest and maybe the nicest. Old enough that George Washington had gone there. Somehow, it seemed right that Mrs. Diedrich would go there. I wondered what you were supposed to wear to a funeral. Suddenly, I was really tired.

“I’m going to read for a while and probably hit the sack early,” I said.

“I’ve got the dishes, Jack. What are you reading these days? You’re done with the encyclopedia,” Dane said.

“Player Piano. I’ve never read anything by Kurt Vonnegut and, apparently, our library is incomplete without his representation.”

“I haven’t either,” Mom said. “Tell me if it’s any good. I might read it too.”

“You like Mark Twain,” Dane said. “Vonnegut has the same sense of humor. Perhaps even a little darker.”

“You like him?” I asked.

“He was entertaining enough for me to have read four or five of his. I think Cat’s Cradle is probably my favorite but Player Piano was good too. None of them are very long.”

We talked a few more minutes about nothing in particular and I excused myself. I felt like an old man getting up from the table. I inspected my hands as I walked into the library. They were okay. Definitely, nothing like they were after a day on a roof with Wash. I thought Wash would be proud of me for working. I was ready to start reading and had a better idea.

I walked back to the kitchen. “Would one of you care to make a quick trip to the bookstore? Not the used bookstore.”

“Sure,” Mom said. “Emergency reading?”

“Sort of. I need a Spanish-English dictionary and maybe a book on Spanish grammar. I bet they don’t have one on Spanglish. That’s what Manny says they speak. Sort of a hodgepodge mix.”

Forty-five minutes later, I plopped down into my favorite chair and opened the grammar book with plans to finish the evening reading Player Piano. I felt Mom’s hand shaking me awake. “Good book?” she asked, quietly. I looked down to see I’d made it all the way to page three. I rolled my eyes and managed to make it to my bed before falling asleep again.

I woke up early and had a big breakfast, then packed a lunch. I’d had plans to work out in the mornings but until I could manage a full day of work without a break, I’d wait on that. Emilio pulled up right at eight. Gone was the riding mower and in its place was a mountain of mulch, two wheelbarrows, and two extra shovels. Oh, oh. I knew what that meant.

We moved two trailer loads of mulch before lunch. It was a four-man job. One man shoveled mulch into a wheelbarrow and another unloaded it and spread it. Two men with wheelbarrows kept it moving and when they got ahead, we all traded places. It was a simple system that made it easy. I ate lunch on the way to the restaurant of the day. While they ate, I had a slice of pecan pie.

After lunch, we raced through a bunch of yards, mowing and edging as though there was no tomorrow. “What’s going on, Art?” I asked.

“Storm coming tonight. The ground will be soft tomorrow so even if it’s not raining, we won’t mow. We don’t want to tear up yards,” he said in Spanish, and I realized I was not only understanding more, but it was coming easier to me.

By six, storm clouds were moving in. We raced to get one more lawn done. Little drops at first. We loaded the trailer and secured the gear, then climbed in just as it really opened up.

“Nice timing,” I said. “What do we do tomorrow?”

“If the rain stops, we have work. If it doesn’t, we don’t,” Art said. Simple as that. “We have to be careful not to tear up lawns.”

My house was the closest and he dropped me off first. I started to jog to the house and then remembered what had happened the last time I’d run in the rain. I’d turned a corner too quickly, slipped, and broke a foot. I walked to the house, enjoying a free shower with all my body parts intact.

“Could I get a towel?” I hollered. Mom stuck her head around the corner and looked at my dripping self. “I decided I’d rather get soaked than break a foot.”

“Probably a wise move on your part. Be right back.” She returned with a couple of oversized beach towels. “How was your day?”

“Good. Better than yesterday. I think I worked harder today but I didn’t wear out so much. Art’s really good about getting a lot done without wearing us out. He switches up jobs and stuff. Plus, my Spanish is improving. I think I only got laughed at seventeen or eighteen times today so that was an improvement.”

“Next thing you know, you’ll be down to single digits. You are getting a lot of sun. Need to be careful. Go change. Dinner’s ready and it’s just us.”

“Who is this? On the stereo. Who is that? She sounds amazing.”

“That, is Ella Fitzgerald, singing Summertime from Porgy and Bess.”

“Listen to her,” I said.

“Summertime, And the livin’ is easy. Fish are jumpin’, and the cotton is high. Oh, your daddy’s rich, and your ma is good-lookin’, so hush, little baby, don’t you cry,” she sang.

“It’s obviously about me.”

“Uh, huh. Go clean up for dinner.”

I was going to ask another question but whatever it was smelled great and I was starved. Tough to top Monday night’s short ribs. I changed into shorts and a T-shirt, grabbed Player Piano for after dinner, and went to the kitchen. Man, it smelled good.

“Shrimp Étouffée, sweet potato pone, and a salad,” she said, putting a large plate in front of me.

“We haven’t had this...” I started and then stopped.

“I know. Since Ronnie died. It’s okay. You like it, right?”

“Hard to beat,” I said, taking a large bite. I slathered butter on a piece of pone and asked, “Where’s Dane?”

“Working late. Everybody’s working. Well, Karen and Franklin are on their honeymoon in San Juan but Veronica is working and I need to leave soon, too.”

“Wait. Veronica works? And why are you leaving?”

“Veronica works at Bosch. HR. And I have two classes to teach tonight.”

“You do? And Veronica works human resources at Bosch? That’s the huge place up by the airport, right?”

“That’s the one. And I’m teaching two classes in ballroom dancing. I’ve got a part-time job at the Arthur Murray Dance Studio out on Savannah Highway.”

“Holy crap, Mom. When did that happen?”

“I interviewed last week and start tonight. Just two nights a week. Kim got me thinking and I guess I just decided to go for it.”

“That’s awesome, Mom. What are you going to do with all the extra loot?” I asked, smiling since we certainly didn’t need it. I had my reason for saving up. Mom didn’t.

“I hadn’t even thought about it. I don’t even know what they pay. Isn’t that silly?”

“I don’t think so. You’re doing it to have fun, just like you said. So, have fun. Two hours, twice a week might be one or two hundred dollars a month,” I said, not really knowing what a dance instructor would make. More than a landscaper, I thought.

“How funny is that? Oh, speaking of money, I sold the condos in Myrtle Beach. We close on the first.”

“Make some money on them?” I asked.

“A little. I just wanted to get rid of them. I don’t want to keep track of them and we got good offers. I’m still thinking about the ten acres on Fort Johnson Road.”

An idea popped into my head that was suddenly really appealing. “Would you do me a favor, Mom? Don’t sell it.”

“Why not? You want it?” she asked smiling, as though it was the craziest thing in the world.

“Maybe,” I said and she did a little double take.

“Whatever for?”

“I’ll be married to Frontier Woman before long. Ten acres is enough room for some horses, isn’t it?”

“I didn’t even think of that. I don’t know how much land you need for horses. You know,” she said, suddenly latching onto the idea. “There’s undeveloped land on the south of it that might be available. Listen to you, Frontier Man.”

“Kim went riding with Mel last night,” I said.

“And...”

“And I didn’t realize how much I like it. I was jealous.”

“Wow. That’s a good thing, right? How crazy is that, Jack? You should talk to the people where you ride.”

“That sounds like a good idea. Would you do me a second favor?” I asked, not really sure where I was going with it.

“Say it quick. I need to get going.”

“Don’t mention it to Kim.” Mom knew in an instant why not. Don’t get Kim’s hopes up. Maybe surprise her. All kinds of possibilities. I could tell she got it. She nodded with a smile as she left for work. I couldn’t remember the last time Mom left for work. I wasn’t really sure how to feel about it.

I did the dishes while Mom was out the door in a rush. I knew the feeling. I had my first day on Monday and she had hers on Tuesday. The whole thing was crazy but we each had good reason. I took my book to the library and was about to settle in when I realized I hadn’t talked to Kim that day and hadn’t talked to her much the day before.

I was about to pick up the phone and call her when I could practically hear Karen whispering to me. Her voice in my head said, “You’re working for her hand in marriage. Do not complain about it. Don’t tell her you’re tired or sore or anything but happy to be working for her.” She was right and she wasn’t even in the room.

I called. Mrs. McTighe said she was babysitting and gave me the number. I called again. “Hey Baby.”

“Hey. Have you ever played Twister with a couple of little rug rats?” She asked and I heard laughing in the background.

“You’re a rug rat.”

“Am not. You are.”

“Nuh uh. You’re an ugly rug rat. You’d scare a cat,” and it went on. I tried to keep from laughing.

“Good day?” she asked.

“Yeah. Pretty good. Seemed easier and my Spanish is improving. Actually, it’s improving pretty quickly, I think. How did riding with Melanie go?”

“Oh, my gosh. She was afraid the whole time. I talked her into trying a trot and she was scared shitless. Oops. Sorry. You rug rats didn’t hear that.”

“Did she eventually calm down and enjoy it?”

“She enjoyed slowing back down to a walk.”

“Is that normal? Did she ride Ghost?”

“No, Baby. I think you and Sandra are the only two that ride Ghost. Maybe someone else on a special occasion. Little kids learn to ride but Mel just had a hard time with it. Think about it. You’re ten feet up in the air on a thousand-pound animal you just met. It can be intimidating. And she was on Sparkle and Sparkle’s a really gentle horse, perfect for beginners. We’ll see. Maybe she’ll try again but I won’t pressure her. I gotta go. These guys are too quiet. They’re into something.”

We exchanged quick telephone hugs and kisses and hung up. I sat back and realized I had tensed up for the call. I don’t know why but I just didn’t want her to feel like I resented the work or anything. I didn’t, but I didn’t want it to seem like I did. I checked a couple of Spanish grammar issues I’d had questions about then looked up a couple of words that had stumped me. That done, I started on my book again. I guess Player Piano was okay but I’d rather be reading Dune Messiah. I’d put that next on the list.

I read for an hour and was already halfway through the short novel. Interesting but in no way fascinating. I wondered why the fuss. I’d thought the same thing about Catcher in the Rye. Maybe I was just a weirdo. I wasn’t going to finish it that night so I hit the sack, wondering if I should get in a light workout the next morning. Sleep came over me before I decided.

On Wednesday we took advantage of the ground made soft by the rain. We performed a few transplants, got weeds out of a garden or two, and were ready for some firmer ground. At lunch, Emilio told the other guys about taking me home. Kim was described as angelic. He was about to be more descriptive when I gave him the eye. He saw and held off, with a sly smile.

“Is this true?” Art asked.

“There are no words in English or Spanish to describe my baby.”

“And she would marry you?”

“That’s the plan.”

“And you are earning money for a ring working with us?”

“Yes,” I answered and Art nodded. He didn’t add anything or ask any more questions. Art was a naturalized citizen and he was taking care of his family. I wasn’t sure about Manny. Maybe he had a green card and maybe he didn’t but I knew he was sending money back to Mexico. I didn’t know about Emilio. Now, they knew about me, and they knew about Kim.

That afternoon, Art dropped me off first, driving up the driveway. I thanked him and started to get out, but then I noticed his disappointment. “You wanted to see my angel, didn’t you?” I asked, and Manny and Emilio laughed, then punched his shoulder. I was right and Art was embarrassed.

Walking across the driveway, I saw Dane’s truck but not Mom’s car and that was strange. I hollered out and Dane answered from the kitchen.

“Leftovers okay?” he asked.

“Shrimp Étouffée? Yeah, I think I can live with that. Where’s Mom?”

“Dancing.”

“I thought that was last night,” I said, fixing myself a plate.

“It was but someone called in and she was more than happy to take her classes. She is really enjoying it. This was Kim’s idea, right?”

“I think so. Or maybe Karen. We were brainstorming. Do you dance?” I asked.

“About as well as I golf.”

“It’s not one of those I-might-have-danced-once things, is it?” Dane frequently understated his experience.

“No. Definitely not. I have two left feet.”

“Hey, I know a good dance instructor,” I said and he laughed.

“Maybe she could teach me, too. I think it’d be cool to learn the rhumba or whatever. Tango. That’s the fancy, sort of sexy dance, right?” I asked.