“That’d be Puck,” Felix said immediately.
“Hey—”
“You’re the one eyeballing it like you’re building a porch swing,” Patrick added, laughing as he dropped the wire with a thud.
Puck looked between them, exasperated. “I used the level!”
“You held it upside down,” Felix said.
Boone snorted. “No, he didn’t.”
Puck pointed at him. “Thank you.”
“You held it sideways.”
The group dissolved into laughter, even Puck, though he shook his head and grabbed the post again. “Fine. Fine. Somebody ‘professional’ come fix it.”
Felix stepped in, nudging the post, checking the line against the others. Patrick joined him, holding it steady while Felix tamped the dirt around the base with the back of a shovel.
“A little more to the left,” Patrick said.
“Your left or my left?” Felix asked.
Puck chimed in, “The sheep’s left.”
“That helps no one,” Felix groaned.
Still, they adjusted it, packed it firmly, and stepped back together.
Boone raised his bottle. “Team effort. Miracles happen.”
A breeze rolled through the vineyard, stirring the tall grass beyond the fence line. “Alright,” Felix said, clapping his hands once. “Let’s run the wire before the rain gets worse.”
They got to work again—Patrick unspooling the fencing, Puck guiding it along the posts, Felix fastening it tight with practiced hands. Boone eventually pushed off the truck and joined in, holding the wire taut while Felix clipped it into place.
“Careful,” he warned as the wire snapped tight with a sharp twang. “I like my fingers attached.”
“It has to be tight,” Felix teased. “Wait ‘till one of those sheep gets an attitude.”
“Have you met them?” Puck said. “They’re basically clouds with legs.”
“Clouds that escape,” Felix added.
“Not after today,” Boone said, giving the wire one final pull before securing it. He stepped back again. “This’ll hold.”
They all paused, looking down the stretch of fence, solid, mostly straight, and standing firm against the open field.
Boone nudged Felix with his shoulder. “Not bad for a bunch of amateurs.”
Puck grinned. “Speak for yourself. I’m clearly a natural.”
Felix tossed a glove at him. “Yeah, a natural disaster.”
Patrick laughed, already heading toward the cooler in the truck bed. “Alright, fence builders, break time before we start fighting for real. Demarien packed cookies.”
They gathered around, passing out cold drinks and baked goods, leaning against the truck or sitting in the grass. The work wasn’t finished yet, but the hardest part was behind them.
His phone rang twice before he picked up. “Hey, Mom.”
