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Her rope artist might not have the theater bug, but he had boundless passion in other ways. Though she wished their respective jobs let them see one another every day, she appreciated the pleasure that delayed gratification brought.
She also liked how he seemed just as happy to seize the chance to see her, even if there was no chance of sex. Like today. He'd messaged her last night that he was building a playground on Sunday with the help of some Type I kids he mentored and contractors volunteering their time. She'd barely hesitated before agreeing to drive forty-five minutes downtown to meet him there.
He'd added the text: Sorry for the less than romantic setup, but I really don't want to wait another day to see you again. As long as you don't mind sharing time with a bunch of kids and sweaty contractors.
How sweaty? She texted him.
Nothing that would interest you. Skunk sweat. Normal contractor sweat. My sweat is an erotic anomaly.
That left her chuckling. She picked up some lunch on the way and brought her tablet so she could run through Harris's production book details so far on Done Right, Lila's play.
The playground was in one of the more run-down Charlotte neighborhoods, populated by blue collar lower income working class people living in small clapboard houses. It had always been a playground, but had fallen into disrepair, and Des had volunteered himself and some of his contractor buddies to help the local church spruce it back up. A number of parishioners had turned out to work on the grading and landscaping while Des and his team, along with the neighborhood's more skilled carpenters, worked together on the playground equipment.
Since he'd texted her the "before" picture, she was delighted to see how much progress had already been made. Trash, vines and weeds had been cleared and were being replaced by mulched border areas with perennials and small shrubs, laid out beneath the several large shade trees in the lot.
Des and his crew were busy sawing, cutting, and hammering, the noise of power tools and men calling back and forth a pleasant din. They'd already put up the framework for the activities station that would have a climbing wall, parallel bars, rope bridge, a suspended path made up of tires, and monkey bars. A spacious tree fort formed the center piece. They'd wisely decided to keep an older steel set of monkey bars and parallel bars framing the new equipment, since both of those looked in good shape.
A swarm of ten kids appeared to be under Des and the other workers' instruction as he combined the volunteer activity with teaching them building skills. He'd told her four of them were his Type I kids, so the others must be from the neighborhood. She wasn't surprised that Des would include any kid interested in learning.
He looked damn good, which amused her, since he was coated in sawdust, his sweat-dampened hair scraped back with a rubber band, and he wore a paint-stained shirt and jeans. But men looked better dirty than women did. Everyone knew that, so her opinion might not be entirely blinded by lust. Though there was nothing wrong with a healthy dose of lust, especially when flavored with sheer delight at seeing him again.
He waved, telling her he knew she was there, and she settled on a bench to watch, knowing it was best to stay out of the way until he had time to take a break and say hello.
He'd pulled two of the children off to the side. Since they were standing by the old parallel bars, she could hear the gist of the conversation. He was explaining how to monitor and interpret their insulin levels when doing strenuous work like this. He had a good teaching style, conveying how important it was for them to know the information without condescending or lecturing.
"Right now, your parents probably check your numbers and stay on you about what to eat and when to take your insulin, but it's really great when you take responsibility for it yourself, and know it all so well they start asking you questions about it. The more you prove you can handle this, the more comfortable they'll be letting you handle it. It's your body, your life. You start taking control now, you'll be glad you did. You'll grow up to be totally cool like me."
As he said that, he'd gripped the parallel bars and turned himself upside down, hooking his knees over one of the bars. He finished the advice while hanging upside down, arms crossed over his chest, looking like a bat. The two kids jeered at him good naturedly. When one came too close, he grabbed the boy by the waist and turned him upside down, threatening to make him eat dirt.
She really shouldn't be fascinated by how his biceps bunched when he did that, or how he held the kid so easily while he himself was hanging just by his legs, but hey, she was weak. His bill cap had fallen off, his thick ponytail falling along his jaw. When he released the boy to reach down and pick it up, he put it on the head of the other child, a young girl with pink sneakers and purple hair. Julie swallowed a chuckle, realizing Des had a purple streak in his own hair. Julie suspected the girl had a temporary dye powder or spray and had talked Des into giving it a try for fun.
He was so good with kids. She wondered if he wanted any of his own. She'd always wanted to experience childbirth. Was she too old? A lot of women did it later these days. She'd be happy to adopt if she was no longer a good candidate, but she imagined a child with Des's eyes and smile, and their combined way of looking at the world.
Whoa, girlfriend. Ease up there. Way scary territory.
The slats of her wooden bench shifted beneath her hips, thankfully drawing her away from that topic. A woman had taken a seat on the opposite end. She looked about sixty and had a dandelion fluff of short white-gold hair styled around her pleasant face, combined with a bisque complexion that suggested mixed Caucasian and African parentage. She tucked a folder under her thigh as she took a sip from a water bottle.
Since she was wearing scrubs, Julie assumed she must be one of the neighbors, a medical professional about to head off for shift after checking in on how the playground was going. There were other neighbors spectating in the same way, watching from their front porches across the street, or camping out on the crumbling brick wall that edged the playground area. This bench was on the parking lot side of the playground where Des's truck and the contractor vehicles were arrayed, so Julie had had it all to herself until now.
She didn't mind the company. The woman was smiling at Des's antics with the kids, which already convinced Julie to like her, but she never needed an excuse to strike up a conversation with a new potential friend.
"He's a character, isn't he?" she ventured.
The woman glanced her way. While she'd probably given Julie a quick once-over before sitting down, that automatic evaluation strangers did before risking proximity, the woman seemed to give her an even closer look now, taking Julie's measure in an in-depth way that left Julie curious.
It was then she noticed the pattern on the woman's scrubs. Horses, galloping, prancing and rolling in small tufts of printed grass. She wore a dainty gold watch and, on the same wrist, a friendship bracelet in gold and silver thread with knot patterns that Julie recognized.
"Oh." She made an educated guess, pleased with the chance to meet another important person in Des's life. "You're Betty, aren't you?"
"I am," Betty replied in a rasping yet honeyed voice that reminded Julie of the Oracle in The Matrix.
Julie extended a hand. "Julie Ramirez. Des and I have been seeing each other for a short while."
"Ah, I thought so." Betty clasped Julie's hand, softening her unsettling scrutiny. "You're the mystery woman. I knew he'd brought someone home a couple times, but he's been good about sneaking you in and out while I was asleep or working."
Julie grinned. "I expect that has more to do with my schedule. I'm in theater and we're always working impossible hours."
"Sounds a lot like nursing." As the children shrieked, both women looked up to see that Des had swung off the parallel bars. He was chasing the two kids as they played keep away with his hat. He could have caught either one easily, but was lunging and missing to prolong the game.
