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The rest of the day is spent brightening up Moira’s kitchen. When we finally stop for some pizza, my back aches and my hands are cramped from painting for hours on end, but even so, I feel good. I’ve helped someone who really needed it, which is a real departure from cleaning up messes after spoiled rich people.
We eat out in the backyard at an old wooden picnic table while the last coat of paint dries. We’ll hang the cupboard doors back on after supper.
The kids make short work of their dinner, then get back to zipping around the yard playing while the grown-ups sip beer from cans and gush about how great the kitchen is going to look.
Moira seems a lot happier than she was this morning. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you would all spend your day helping me with this. It was such a big job, I wouldn’t have even known where to start, and now it’s done.”
“We’re happy to help,” Harper says. “Really. It’s been a fun day.”
“Agreed,” I tell her. “Really fun.” Glancing over at the kids, I watch as Wyatt trots down the back steps of the house. I know exactly what he’s up to and for his sake, I hope he’s successful. He’s holding some papers in his hand. Walking over to us, he says, “Mom, I know I sounded like a spoiled baby this morning and I’m really sorry.”
Moira nods her head once. “Thank you. I appreciate your saying that.
He offers her a winning smile. “I’ve come up with a plan to raise the money myself.”
She purses her lips tightly. “What kind of plan?”
“I’m going to start my own business. It’s called Wasp Be Gone. All I need are some empty plastic bottles, some jam, and some water to make the traps. I can take them door-to-door around town and sell them to people.”
Pointing to the page, he says, “My customers can choose to either buy the traps and take care of maintenance themselves, or they can pick the full-service package, and I’ll go every week to get rid of the dead wasps and set the traps again.”
I can’t help but grin at how proud of his idea he is. I find myself cheering for him internally.
“For those who don’t want my wasp removal service, I’m also going to offer dog walking, weeding, and mowing lawns, but for that one, I’d need you to let me use the mower. I’ll pay for the gas of course.” He stops and smiles, hope shining in his eyes while he waits for an answer.
Moira sighs, looking down at his proposal. “You think you can win the competitionandmake a thousand dollars in six weeks?”
He shrugs. “I can try. I really want to do this, Mom,” he says. “I can’t be the only guy who won’t get to go if we win. It’s theDodgers.We’ll get to run around on the field after the game and meet the players and everything.”
“What about the hotel? That’ll be extra.”
“You could stay at my place,” I say without thinking.
All eyes turn to me, which makes me wonder if I should have kept my mouth shut.
Moira seems angry, confirming that it isn’t my place to interfere. I think fast. “Sorry, I know this isn’t my business. I just mean that if Wyatt was able to come up with the flight money, I have enough room for everyone at my house and you’re more than welcome to stay there. In fact, I have to zip home for a few days later this summer, so I could go with you, and even show you guys around a little.” I hold up both hands. “But only if it’s one hundred percent okay with you, Moira.”
Wyatt grins at me, then at his mom. He’s positively shaking with excitement.
Digger interjects, “We could use your services at the lodge, Wyatt. I’ll take twenty of those traps as soon as you can get them to me.”
Wyatt’s eyes grow wide, and his grin expands to his ears. “See, Mom? This could work.”
She gives each of us a dirty look, before telling her son, “I’ll think about it.”
He nods enthusiastically. “You’re the best mom ever and if you say yes to this, I’ll never complain about doing my chores again.”
I lift my beer to my mouth to hide the smirk that’s trying to overtake my face. I’m sure I used that line before on my own parents a time or two.
Wyatt closes out his presentation with a quick hug, before running off to where the other kids have started a paddle ball competition.
Moira gives Digger a look. “There’s no way he can earn enough money for both of us.”
“What if he can?” Digger asks.
She counters with, “What if he can’t?”
“If he can’t, Grandpa Jack, Harper and I can pitch in for flights for all the boys’ birthdays. That way you can have a family vacation.”
