Post by bretf on Oct 8, 2021 13:14:36 GMT
Chapter 33
Kevin wanted to lock up tight but didn’t. It’d been hot during the day, leaving the house stuffy. It felt like a sauna. So he opened the windows and doors, only screens between him and the outside. And the neighbors. Hopefully, they were convinced he’d stay in the house and not be a problem.
He and the dogs ate, they a normal portion, him a light meal, being so late. He looked out the window, checking, and smiled. Then, following a shower, with cooler water than normal, he went to his bedroom. He stared out the window, nodding his head. If Cindy had gone to the hot tub, she sure hadn’t stayed long. She was on a lounge chair, looking straight at his house. That was good. Better to have her watching the house than his shed. She’d put on a robe due to the temperature dropping with the sun. Guard duty, he assumed, and would be on her feet in an instant if he stepped outside. And the robe would certainly fall open, if not to the ground.
No one else was visible, the same as it’d been since he’d gotten home. The bedroom beside the deck was nearly dark, with only muted light coming from deeper in the house. The only other light came from the garage.
Kevin made sure his guns were easily accessible and climbed into bed. He prayed he wouldn’t need them. Jack and Jill settled in on each side. Patting them, he said, “What a day, guys. What a day!”
#
Jack and Jill surging to their feet pulled Kevin from his slumber. It hadn’t taken much. He’d been resisting the pressure in his bladder for the past half-hour. In his more conscious moments, he questioned when he’d gotten old enough he could no longer make it through the night without using the toilet.
Coming fully awake, he noted the dogs’ rigid stances, the low growls emanating from deep in their chests. Whatever they’d detected didn’t appear to be an immediate threat. Still, grimacing at what he was doing, he reached under the pillow and palmed his pistol.
Looking out the window, he saw the neighbors’ garage door rising. He wanted to stay and watch but had to take care of his bodily functions first. He hurried to the bathroom, urinated, and returned to the window.
Setting his pistol on the window sill, he picked up his phone. First, he checked the time. Four-thirty. So they’d almost pulled an all-nighter doing whatever they’d been up to. On top of the time they’d had during the day. He was pretty sure he knew what it was.
Next, he sent a quick text. Quick for him anyway. It took several attempts to get the letters right. His fingers always seemed to hit the wrong key.
He wished he didn’t have a window screen but there was nothing to be done about it. Opening the photo app, he pushed the “Video” function, aimed the phone out the window and zoomed until the image wouldn’t grow any larger.
The garage was well lit. Charley was easily seen, standing near the doorway leading to the basement. Kevin watched and recorded as Thug One, his shaved head gleaming, emerged, carrying a gym bag on each shoulder. Interesting, Kevin thought. White coveralls, rubber gloves, and a respirator. I believe I was right. No wonder they wanted an out-of-the-way place.
Thug One carried the bags to the strange car and put them inside. Kevin redirected the camera. Thug Two emerged, dressed in the same manner as Thug One. He deposited one of the bags he carried in Charley’s SUV, the other in Cindy’s sports car.
Both thugs went back inside the garage, removing the gloves, respirators, and coveralls. Charley had closed the stairway door and locked it. He flicked the lights off as Thug One and Two got in the strange car, backed out, turned, and drove away. When Kevin redirected his attention, the garage door was down and Charley disappeared into the house.
Kevin sat on the bed, contemplating what he should do. Deciding it was best to do nothing at the moment and not give any sign he’d seen the activity, he stretched out on the bed to wait for dawn.
#
All was quiet other than natural sounds when Kevin stepped outside. He looked at the neighbors’ house as he walked to the henhouse. He didn’t see Cindy but didn’t need to. Her image was imprinted in his mind. “So what would’ve happened if I’d gone with her? Would Charley jump out and all hell would bust loose? Or was she just meant to distract me? Since she strips, what else does she do? Would I’ve just been one more trick? If I was dumb enough to find out, I might be seeing the doctor afterward. If I survived. But dang, she did look nice!”
The dogs ran to the shed, snuffling around while he collected the eggs he’d left the evening before. In hindsight, he was glad he had. Though nothing too crazy had taken place, he guessed he may have broken the eggs due to the level of crazy he did encounter. He looked at the fence where he and Cindy had been and shuddered.
Once Kevin and the dogs finished breakfast, he headed for the garden. It was time for an experiment. Enough cucumbers were large enough, he was going to attempt to make crock pickles. He didn’t have a crock but he did have a gallon glass jar he’d gotten at the thrift store. If it worked, a gallon of pickles should last him a while. On the other hand, if it didn’t work, he wouldn’t be out too much.
Kevin leaned over and plucked a cucumber free of the vine. He was reaching for another when Jack and Jill barked, running towards the lane. He left the cuke where it was, looking up to see Tammy’s Corolla approaching.
“This could be interesting,” he muttered. “I wonder if she brought a shovel to help bury the body.” Placing his bucket on the ground and straightening, he walked to the garden gate.
Tammy pulled to a stop behind his pickup and got out. The dogs displayed their normal animosity to her.
“Jack, Jill, down,” Kevin called. “Hey, Tammy. I wasn’t expecting you this early when I said maybe tomorrow. I figured you’d sleep later since you worked last night.” He studied her face, trying to read it. Did she expect to see me alive?
“Hey, Kev. It’s good to see you. I didn’t sleep worth poop, so I hoped you’d be up and moving. You are an early bird, aren’t you?”
What’s that mean, it’s good to see you? You can leave your shovel in the car? “Yeah, I’ve got the hens now, so you know the saying, get up with the chickens.”
She’d made it to the garden gate. The dogs were facing her, growling. “I swear, these two must hate cats and know I love them.”
“Jack, Jill, settle down,” Kevin commanded.
They did, marginally.
Tammy eyed him critically, from the top of the head to his toes before she opened the gate and stepped inside. Out of direct contact with the dogs, she asked, “So how was your out-of-town trip and your evening?”
“It was okay for work, you know. And then when I got home, I chatted with the neighbor for a bit and hit the sack.”
“The neighbor?” Tammy inquired.
“Yeah, she came out when I got home and was gathering the eggs. We chatted for a while, then I headed in to the house.”
Again, Tammy studied him. “She? Are you holding out on me? Got something going with the hot new neighbor?” She shot a glance at the neighbors’ house.
“No! It’s nothing like that!” I never told her Cindy’s hot.
Tammy seemed to look into his soul, categorizing his thoughts. If only his doctor gave him so thorough an exam. “So, no funny business last night?”
Like a provocative naked woman trying to lure plain old me over to her place? Like chemical smells that could only be from cooking meth? Nope, nothing funny happened here. “Funny business? Like what?”
“I don’t know, just anything, anything at all.”
What ARE you up to? Fishing to see if I figured out what they’re up to and if I’ll be a problem? “I already covered that. We chatted and I went to bed. Pretty funny, huh?”
Her face softened and she said, “Okay, enough about last night. So, what are you working on this morning?”
As if you care. “I was picking cucumbers. I’m going to try making fermented pickles.”
“You know, the stores sell pickles.”
Shaking his head, he said, “Yes, but what if those solar flares I told you about hit? The stores will shut down. Don’t you remember the craziness with Covid? That wasn’t all that long ago.”
“I try to forget that and I suppose most people already have. It’s life as normal. So, sorry, I get it, I just have a harder time accepting it. Tell me about your fermented pickles.”
“I’ve never done it, but I’m going to give it a shot. A hundred years ago, the mercantiles had barrels filled with pickles. They were fine without refrigeration. I want to try making some.”
“You want to make a barrel full of pickles?” she asked.
Unable to help himself, Kevin chuckled, as much at her words as her astonished look. “No, not a barrel. I’m starting small, with a gallon jar.”
“That sounds a lot saner than a barrel. How do you do it?”
“Give me a hand and I’ll tell you while we pick.”
“A hand?” she asked, and waggled her eyebrows.
“Picking cucumbers.”
“Oh. Sounds boring, but if that’s the best you can offer me, okay.”
Another double meaning. How’ll she respond when I show her the size of cucumbers I want? He plucked a cucumber and held it up. “There aren’t a lot, but I think we can get close to a gallon around this size.”
She smirked, biting her lip, then picked one and held it up. Rather than innuendo, she said. “Okay, so how does this lowly cucumber become a pickle?”
Kevin kept his head down, just turning it enough to see her. The woman could act. She sounded genuinely interested. He’d have to be even more on guard.
“I’m not sure of everything, I’ve got it written down in the house. But you make a salt brine and soak them.”
“Can you mix other things in with them? Like onions and maybe hot peppers to perk them up?”
“Huh,” Kevin said, thinking. “I think the recipe I have has onions and garlic so we need to pull them while we’re here. But I like the idea of spicing them up. Let’s pick a handful of those cayenne peppers when we have enough cukes. Oh, and we need to pick a couple of heads of dill, too.”
With a gallon of cucumbers and everything else Kevin wanted in the bucket, they left the garden. Jack and Jill flanked Kevin, Jill between him and Tammy. Kevin pointed at his outside work area, the sheet of plywood on sawhorses. “I like to work out here in the shade as much as I can. Would you mind turning the hose on?” He pointed to the hose bib. “We can put water in the tub and wash everything out here. And I’ll go get the recipe and ingredients while you work on that.”
Kevin continued to the house after depositing the bucket on the table. Once inside, he looked out the window. It was warm enough he wanted to take his sweatshirt off, but what to do with his pistols if he did? Maybe he could keep one undetected. Removing the sweatshirt and his shoulder holster, he pulled his shirttail out of his pants. It hung loosely, and if he didn’t turn his back to Tammy, she should never notice the small pistol in his back pocket.
Picking up two bags from the counter, he headed back outside. One bag held his ingredients and the instructions. The second bag contained a paring knife, a quart and gallon jars, a small saucer, and a large spoon. When he arrived at the table, Tammy had water and the harvested produce in the tub. Her hands were immersed, rinsing the vegetables. Kevin wondered how far she planned to take the charade since nothing appeared to be happening next door. Her method of distraction was a far cry from Cindy’s. And much more dangerous. He found it disarming so he’d have to tread very lightly.
Reading from the instruction sheet, he said, “Okay, the first thing it says is to fill the crock, or in our case, the gallon jar half full with cucumbers. But we’ll go about three-quarters of the way.” Reading further he said, “Then we lay a few sprigs of dill, a clove of garlic, but I want more, a chunk of onion, some peppercorns, and a few grape leaves on them. I forgot the grape leaves part, so I’ve got to go pluck some.”
“Okay. I’ll get the cukes ready, and then clean the garlic and onion,” she said.
He headed for the grapevines, wondering when the other shoe would drop. She was certainly playing it up. Were Thug One and Thug Two coming back for another batch?
Tammy had the cucumbers in the jar and was peeling garlic cloves when he returned. He dropped the leaves in the water and sloshed them around.
“Two cloves or three?” Tammy asked, dropping two into the jar.
“Four,” Kevin said. Fishing the cayennes from the water, he added, “And three of these.”
“Wow, you do want to spice them up,” she said.
He shrugged and picked up the quart jar. “It says to mix the saltwater brine with filtered water. I don’t have any so it’ll be hose water for these. We mix enough so everything’s submerged.”
“I’m guessing you want more than just a chunk of onion?” she asked.
“Well, yeah, the whole thing,” he said with a smile.
When the jar’s contents were submerged, he read further. “Now, it needs weighted so the cukes don’t get any oxygen. I’ll put the saucer over the grape leaves, then fill the quart jar with water and set it on the saucer. I think that’ll work. If not, I’ll have to scrounge for something else to use as a weight.”
“Then what?” Tammy asked.
“Then the jar sets on the kitchen counter and the cukes will ferment and be pickles.”
“Wow, that’s easy enough. So when do you let me test the results and see if they’re any good?”
He read, and said, “How about next weekend.” His phone rang and he fished it out and read the display. “Excuse me, I need to get this,” he said.
He took several steps away and answered. “Good morning, Janice.”
“Kevin, are you alright? Did anything happen last night? You know, I worried about you all night. If Jim would’ve been here, I’d have sent him out to check on you. I hope his deployment ends soon.”
“I’m fine and my evening was interesting. I’ll have to tell you later. Tammy’s here.”
“What? She’s at your place? What’s she want?”
“I’m still trying to figure that out. But I better let you go.”
He heard her sigh.
“Okay, but you be careful.”
“I will. Talk to you later.” He clicked off.
He returned to the table. Tammy tilted her head and asked, “Your girlfriend?”
Kevin chuckled and said, “No, she’s a great lady but she’s taken.”
Tammy raised her hand resting her chin on her palm, tapping her lower lip with her index finger. Kevin could almost see the gears turning.
He smiled. “She’s just a friend. A very good friend. Otherwise, I’d have turned her down when she asked me to be Godparent for her kids.”
“Godparent? Hum, I’m thinking there might be more to you than I thought.”
Kevin shrugged. “Just a guy trying to do what’s right.”
Tammy appeared to think about his response and shot a glance at the neighbor’s house. “Okay, if you say so. So, your pickles are done, what now? There’re still some cucumbers left.”
“I think we’ll slice a couple for lunch and do the rest as refrigerator pickles.”
“It sounds like you like pickles. How do you do those?”
“We’ll slice them and put them in a bowl with vinegar and water.”
“That’s it?” Tammy asked.
“Well, we have some of the other things left. We might as well put onion, garlic, and peppers in too to spice them up.”
“So you need extra spice in your life?” She looked at the neighbors’ house again.
Kevin saw her look. “When you put it that way, I’m sure I have enough. But I do like zesty pickles.”
“Just pickles? I’d guess you get some spice from people you meet through your job as well. And other places.”
Kevin didn’t respond, trying to find hidden meanings in her words. When he did speak, he said, “I better get a bowl and the vinegar.”
When the cucumbers were taken care of, they went back to the garden. Enough green beans were large enough for a meal for two, as well as the first ripe tomato. Kevin also picked a zucchini. He sliced it and put it in a zip-lock bag with olive oil, minced garlic, soy sauce, and a dash of vinegar to marinate.
When everything was ready, Kevin cooked the beans and zucchini on the propane camp stove. He and Tammy sat at the outdoor table and ate the vegetarian lunch, all fresh from the garden.
Tammy swallowed a bite and said, “This is really good. And not to open old wounds, but there is a lot more to you than the hang-dog guy who used to stop in at The Watering Hole.”
Kevin shrugged. “Yeah, I was going through a rough patch and had a bad case of feeling sorry for myself. Now, though, I see new beginnings and new challenges.”
“Am I one of those?” Tammy asked.
Kevin fought looking at the neighbor’s house and didn’t answer. But he did in his mind. Oh yeah, you’re one of those. “More zucchini?” he asked instead.
Kevin wanted to lock up tight but didn’t. It’d been hot during the day, leaving the house stuffy. It felt like a sauna. So he opened the windows and doors, only screens between him and the outside. And the neighbors. Hopefully, they were convinced he’d stay in the house and not be a problem.
He and the dogs ate, they a normal portion, him a light meal, being so late. He looked out the window, checking, and smiled. Then, following a shower, with cooler water than normal, he went to his bedroom. He stared out the window, nodding his head. If Cindy had gone to the hot tub, she sure hadn’t stayed long. She was on a lounge chair, looking straight at his house. That was good. Better to have her watching the house than his shed. She’d put on a robe due to the temperature dropping with the sun. Guard duty, he assumed, and would be on her feet in an instant if he stepped outside. And the robe would certainly fall open, if not to the ground.
No one else was visible, the same as it’d been since he’d gotten home. The bedroom beside the deck was nearly dark, with only muted light coming from deeper in the house. The only other light came from the garage.
Kevin made sure his guns were easily accessible and climbed into bed. He prayed he wouldn’t need them. Jack and Jill settled in on each side. Patting them, he said, “What a day, guys. What a day!”
#
Jack and Jill surging to their feet pulled Kevin from his slumber. It hadn’t taken much. He’d been resisting the pressure in his bladder for the past half-hour. In his more conscious moments, he questioned when he’d gotten old enough he could no longer make it through the night without using the toilet.
Coming fully awake, he noted the dogs’ rigid stances, the low growls emanating from deep in their chests. Whatever they’d detected didn’t appear to be an immediate threat. Still, grimacing at what he was doing, he reached under the pillow and palmed his pistol.
Looking out the window, he saw the neighbors’ garage door rising. He wanted to stay and watch but had to take care of his bodily functions first. He hurried to the bathroom, urinated, and returned to the window.
Setting his pistol on the window sill, he picked up his phone. First, he checked the time. Four-thirty. So they’d almost pulled an all-nighter doing whatever they’d been up to. On top of the time they’d had during the day. He was pretty sure he knew what it was.
Next, he sent a quick text. Quick for him anyway. It took several attempts to get the letters right. His fingers always seemed to hit the wrong key.
He wished he didn’t have a window screen but there was nothing to be done about it. Opening the photo app, he pushed the “Video” function, aimed the phone out the window and zoomed until the image wouldn’t grow any larger.
The garage was well lit. Charley was easily seen, standing near the doorway leading to the basement. Kevin watched and recorded as Thug One, his shaved head gleaming, emerged, carrying a gym bag on each shoulder. Interesting, Kevin thought. White coveralls, rubber gloves, and a respirator. I believe I was right. No wonder they wanted an out-of-the-way place.
Thug One carried the bags to the strange car and put them inside. Kevin redirected the camera. Thug Two emerged, dressed in the same manner as Thug One. He deposited one of the bags he carried in Charley’s SUV, the other in Cindy’s sports car.
Both thugs went back inside the garage, removing the gloves, respirators, and coveralls. Charley had closed the stairway door and locked it. He flicked the lights off as Thug One and Two got in the strange car, backed out, turned, and drove away. When Kevin redirected his attention, the garage door was down and Charley disappeared into the house.
Kevin sat on the bed, contemplating what he should do. Deciding it was best to do nothing at the moment and not give any sign he’d seen the activity, he stretched out on the bed to wait for dawn.
#
All was quiet other than natural sounds when Kevin stepped outside. He looked at the neighbors’ house as he walked to the henhouse. He didn’t see Cindy but didn’t need to. Her image was imprinted in his mind. “So what would’ve happened if I’d gone with her? Would Charley jump out and all hell would bust loose? Or was she just meant to distract me? Since she strips, what else does she do? Would I’ve just been one more trick? If I was dumb enough to find out, I might be seeing the doctor afterward. If I survived. But dang, she did look nice!”
The dogs ran to the shed, snuffling around while he collected the eggs he’d left the evening before. In hindsight, he was glad he had. Though nothing too crazy had taken place, he guessed he may have broken the eggs due to the level of crazy he did encounter. He looked at the fence where he and Cindy had been and shuddered.
Once Kevin and the dogs finished breakfast, he headed for the garden. It was time for an experiment. Enough cucumbers were large enough, he was going to attempt to make crock pickles. He didn’t have a crock but he did have a gallon glass jar he’d gotten at the thrift store. If it worked, a gallon of pickles should last him a while. On the other hand, if it didn’t work, he wouldn’t be out too much.
Kevin leaned over and plucked a cucumber free of the vine. He was reaching for another when Jack and Jill barked, running towards the lane. He left the cuke where it was, looking up to see Tammy’s Corolla approaching.
“This could be interesting,” he muttered. “I wonder if she brought a shovel to help bury the body.” Placing his bucket on the ground and straightening, he walked to the garden gate.
Tammy pulled to a stop behind his pickup and got out. The dogs displayed their normal animosity to her.
“Jack, Jill, down,” Kevin called. “Hey, Tammy. I wasn’t expecting you this early when I said maybe tomorrow. I figured you’d sleep later since you worked last night.” He studied her face, trying to read it. Did she expect to see me alive?
“Hey, Kev. It’s good to see you. I didn’t sleep worth poop, so I hoped you’d be up and moving. You are an early bird, aren’t you?”
What’s that mean, it’s good to see you? You can leave your shovel in the car? “Yeah, I’ve got the hens now, so you know the saying, get up with the chickens.”
She’d made it to the garden gate. The dogs were facing her, growling. “I swear, these two must hate cats and know I love them.”
“Jack, Jill, settle down,” Kevin commanded.
They did, marginally.
Tammy eyed him critically, from the top of the head to his toes before she opened the gate and stepped inside. Out of direct contact with the dogs, she asked, “So how was your out-of-town trip and your evening?”
“It was okay for work, you know. And then when I got home, I chatted with the neighbor for a bit and hit the sack.”
“The neighbor?” Tammy inquired.
“Yeah, she came out when I got home and was gathering the eggs. We chatted for a while, then I headed in to the house.”
Again, Tammy studied him. “She? Are you holding out on me? Got something going with the hot new neighbor?” She shot a glance at the neighbors’ house.
“No! It’s nothing like that!” I never told her Cindy’s hot.
Tammy seemed to look into his soul, categorizing his thoughts. If only his doctor gave him so thorough an exam. “So, no funny business last night?”
Like a provocative naked woman trying to lure plain old me over to her place? Like chemical smells that could only be from cooking meth? Nope, nothing funny happened here. “Funny business? Like what?”
“I don’t know, just anything, anything at all.”
What ARE you up to? Fishing to see if I figured out what they’re up to and if I’ll be a problem? “I already covered that. We chatted and I went to bed. Pretty funny, huh?”
Her face softened and she said, “Okay, enough about last night. So, what are you working on this morning?”
As if you care. “I was picking cucumbers. I’m going to try making fermented pickles.”
“You know, the stores sell pickles.”
Shaking his head, he said, “Yes, but what if those solar flares I told you about hit? The stores will shut down. Don’t you remember the craziness with Covid? That wasn’t all that long ago.”
“I try to forget that and I suppose most people already have. It’s life as normal. So, sorry, I get it, I just have a harder time accepting it. Tell me about your fermented pickles.”
“I’ve never done it, but I’m going to give it a shot. A hundred years ago, the mercantiles had barrels filled with pickles. They were fine without refrigeration. I want to try making some.”
“You want to make a barrel full of pickles?” she asked.
Unable to help himself, Kevin chuckled, as much at her words as her astonished look. “No, not a barrel. I’m starting small, with a gallon jar.”
“That sounds a lot saner than a barrel. How do you do it?”
“Give me a hand and I’ll tell you while we pick.”
“A hand?” she asked, and waggled her eyebrows.
“Picking cucumbers.”
“Oh. Sounds boring, but if that’s the best you can offer me, okay.”
Another double meaning. How’ll she respond when I show her the size of cucumbers I want? He plucked a cucumber and held it up. “There aren’t a lot, but I think we can get close to a gallon around this size.”
She smirked, biting her lip, then picked one and held it up. Rather than innuendo, she said. “Okay, so how does this lowly cucumber become a pickle?”
Kevin kept his head down, just turning it enough to see her. The woman could act. She sounded genuinely interested. He’d have to be even more on guard.
“I’m not sure of everything, I’ve got it written down in the house. But you make a salt brine and soak them.”
“Can you mix other things in with them? Like onions and maybe hot peppers to perk them up?”
“Huh,” Kevin said, thinking. “I think the recipe I have has onions and garlic so we need to pull them while we’re here. But I like the idea of spicing them up. Let’s pick a handful of those cayenne peppers when we have enough cukes. Oh, and we need to pick a couple of heads of dill, too.”
With a gallon of cucumbers and everything else Kevin wanted in the bucket, they left the garden. Jack and Jill flanked Kevin, Jill between him and Tammy. Kevin pointed at his outside work area, the sheet of plywood on sawhorses. “I like to work out here in the shade as much as I can. Would you mind turning the hose on?” He pointed to the hose bib. “We can put water in the tub and wash everything out here. And I’ll go get the recipe and ingredients while you work on that.”
Kevin continued to the house after depositing the bucket on the table. Once inside, he looked out the window. It was warm enough he wanted to take his sweatshirt off, but what to do with his pistols if he did? Maybe he could keep one undetected. Removing the sweatshirt and his shoulder holster, he pulled his shirttail out of his pants. It hung loosely, and if he didn’t turn his back to Tammy, she should never notice the small pistol in his back pocket.
Picking up two bags from the counter, he headed back outside. One bag held his ingredients and the instructions. The second bag contained a paring knife, a quart and gallon jars, a small saucer, and a large spoon. When he arrived at the table, Tammy had water and the harvested produce in the tub. Her hands were immersed, rinsing the vegetables. Kevin wondered how far she planned to take the charade since nothing appeared to be happening next door. Her method of distraction was a far cry from Cindy’s. And much more dangerous. He found it disarming so he’d have to tread very lightly.
Reading from the instruction sheet, he said, “Okay, the first thing it says is to fill the crock, or in our case, the gallon jar half full with cucumbers. But we’ll go about three-quarters of the way.” Reading further he said, “Then we lay a few sprigs of dill, a clove of garlic, but I want more, a chunk of onion, some peppercorns, and a few grape leaves on them. I forgot the grape leaves part, so I’ve got to go pluck some.”
“Okay. I’ll get the cukes ready, and then clean the garlic and onion,” she said.
He headed for the grapevines, wondering when the other shoe would drop. She was certainly playing it up. Were Thug One and Thug Two coming back for another batch?
Tammy had the cucumbers in the jar and was peeling garlic cloves when he returned. He dropped the leaves in the water and sloshed them around.
“Two cloves or three?” Tammy asked, dropping two into the jar.
“Four,” Kevin said. Fishing the cayennes from the water, he added, “And three of these.”
“Wow, you do want to spice them up,” she said.
He shrugged and picked up the quart jar. “It says to mix the saltwater brine with filtered water. I don’t have any so it’ll be hose water for these. We mix enough so everything’s submerged.”
“I’m guessing you want more than just a chunk of onion?” she asked.
“Well, yeah, the whole thing,” he said with a smile.
When the jar’s contents were submerged, he read further. “Now, it needs weighted so the cukes don’t get any oxygen. I’ll put the saucer over the grape leaves, then fill the quart jar with water and set it on the saucer. I think that’ll work. If not, I’ll have to scrounge for something else to use as a weight.”
“Then what?” Tammy asked.
“Then the jar sets on the kitchen counter and the cukes will ferment and be pickles.”
“Wow, that’s easy enough. So when do you let me test the results and see if they’re any good?”
He read, and said, “How about next weekend.” His phone rang and he fished it out and read the display. “Excuse me, I need to get this,” he said.
He took several steps away and answered. “Good morning, Janice.”
“Kevin, are you alright? Did anything happen last night? You know, I worried about you all night. If Jim would’ve been here, I’d have sent him out to check on you. I hope his deployment ends soon.”
“I’m fine and my evening was interesting. I’ll have to tell you later. Tammy’s here.”
“What? She’s at your place? What’s she want?”
“I’m still trying to figure that out. But I better let you go.”
He heard her sigh.
“Okay, but you be careful.”
“I will. Talk to you later.” He clicked off.
He returned to the table. Tammy tilted her head and asked, “Your girlfriend?”
Kevin chuckled and said, “No, she’s a great lady but she’s taken.”
Tammy raised her hand resting her chin on her palm, tapping her lower lip with her index finger. Kevin could almost see the gears turning.
He smiled. “She’s just a friend. A very good friend. Otherwise, I’d have turned her down when she asked me to be Godparent for her kids.”
“Godparent? Hum, I’m thinking there might be more to you than I thought.”
Kevin shrugged. “Just a guy trying to do what’s right.”
Tammy appeared to think about his response and shot a glance at the neighbor’s house. “Okay, if you say so. So, your pickles are done, what now? There’re still some cucumbers left.”
“I think we’ll slice a couple for lunch and do the rest as refrigerator pickles.”
“It sounds like you like pickles. How do you do those?”
“We’ll slice them and put them in a bowl with vinegar and water.”
“That’s it?” Tammy asked.
“Well, we have some of the other things left. We might as well put onion, garlic, and peppers in too to spice them up.”
“So you need extra spice in your life?” She looked at the neighbors’ house again.
Kevin saw her look. “When you put it that way, I’m sure I have enough. But I do like zesty pickles.”
“Just pickles? I’d guess you get some spice from people you meet through your job as well. And other places.”
Kevin didn’t respond, trying to find hidden meanings in her words. When he did speak, he said, “I better get a bowl and the vinegar.”
When the cucumbers were taken care of, they went back to the garden. Enough green beans were large enough for a meal for two, as well as the first ripe tomato. Kevin also picked a zucchini. He sliced it and put it in a zip-lock bag with olive oil, minced garlic, soy sauce, and a dash of vinegar to marinate.
When everything was ready, Kevin cooked the beans and zucchini on the propane camp stove. He and Tammy sat at the outdoor table and ate the vegetarian lunch, all fresh from the garden.
Tammy swallowed a bite and said, “This is really good. And not to open old wounds, but there is a lot more to you than the hang-dog guy who used to stop in at The Watering Hole.”
Kevin shrugged. “Yeah, I was going through a rough patch and had a bad case of feeling sorry for myself. Now, though, I see new beginnings and new challenges.”
“Am I one of those?” Tammy asked.
Kevin fought looking at the neighbor’s house and didn’t answer. But he did in his mind. Oh yeah, you’re one of those. “More zucchini?” he asked instead.