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“You don’t have to, you know,” I said as he grabbed a dishtowel. “You’ve worked all day.”
“Babe, I might be old-fashioned, but I’m not a Neanderthal. I certainly don’t mind helping out with some of the housework. Especially when I know you spent a lot of time making that great meal.”
“Thank you. I’m glad you enjoyed it. I can’t wait until those veggies come from our garden.”
“How about we enjoy our coffee on the swing?” he suggested.
“That sounds great as long as you help me up. I had to hop to sit when Mrs. Powers called.”
“Hold that thought,” he said, and we carried our mugs out to the porch. After setting them down on a small side table, he sat and then lifted me onto his lap.
I told him about the call while we sipped our coffee. “She wasn’t mad at all. In fact, she told me that taking care of you is the most important, rewarding job I could have,” I paraphrased.
Brett bent down, pausing when his lips were a fraction of an inch from mine. “Not only a nice woman, she is very wise.”
The kiss was wonderful, and I wondered why I’d ever gotten too involved with things outside our home. This, us, sharing a meal and conversation, washing dishes together, me sitting on my husband’s lap while he gently pushed the swing with his foot… this was special.
* * *
On Wednesday, as we passed the obstacle course, I stopped but kept jogging in place. “Can we try to run the course?” I asked.
“Really? I thought you were against exercise.”
I rolled my eyes, gesturing toward my legs, which were still pumping up and down. “What do you call this?”
He chuckled. “A forced run?”
That was true, but I now had a mission. “I just want to mix it up a bit.”
“Okay, we’ll give it a go,” he said, and I followed him across the field. “Of course, we won’t be alone for long. The companies will start running through here soon. We’d have to start about an hour earlier if you want privacy.”
Mission or not, no way was I going to get up at four o’clock in the morning. “Um, I’ll pass on that. We don’t have to do it all. I just want to see what’s involved.”
What’s that saying? Be careful what you wish for? By the time Brett had showed me the first part, which consisted of a raised beam to traverse across, the monkey bars where I discovered I’d lost every bit of my school yard prowess and couldn’t go further than two bars before losing my grip, and the tires that had me catching my foot and going down on my ass, I was already exhausted. When we arrived at a wall, I shook my head, so very grateful for the ranks of soldiers I could hear arriving.
“Let’s not get in their way,” I suggested.
“They wouldn’t mind,” Brett countered with a grin that told me he knew I was about to drop.
Batting my eyes, I smiled. “I’d hate to show these poor soldiers up. Besides, we haven’t finished our run yet.” As I passed him, I squealed when he popped my ass, suddenly finding the energy to run just a mite faster.
Once we got home, he again massaged my feet and legs. “You know, that almost makes running worthwhile,” I said with a soft moan of pleasure.
“I’m proud of you, babe. Tomorrow we won’t run.”
I sat up, propping myself on my elbows. “Why? Is camp over?”
He laughed. “Not by a long shot. But your muscles need time to get used to working. On the days you don’t run, we’ll do more exercises at home. We’ll add some weight training.”
“Brett, I do not want to be some muscle-bound monster!”
Sitting back, he bent his arms and flexed his muscles. “Are you saying I’m a monster?”
“No.” Well, I’d thought that but that was days ago. “No, honey, you are a very handsome man. But I’m a girl.”
“Your gender does not mean you can’t build some upper body strength. You were a girl when you used to swing on those monkey bars on the school playground, right?”
I couldn’t deny that, and Stephanie had said there would be bars to conquer. “All right, as long as I don’t wind up looking like the female version of Mr. Clean.”
