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He grins at her through the glass and wags his eyebrows. “You think my muscles are big?”
We both laugh.
“Oh, yeah, you’re a regular Arnold Schwarzenegger,” Joanna quips.
He continues to admire his image as he asks, “Where’s Morris today?”
“How should I know?” I snap. A little more defensive than I intended.
The truth is, I was hoping he’d be joining us in the weight room, and now, my overactive imagination is wondering if he is avoiding me.
Scooter turns and gives me a funny look. “He usually works out with us on Sunday. I just wondered if any of you guys had seen him this morning.”
“I saw him drive off with Langford and his boy about an hour ago,” Clay says.
“That’s right; last night, he did mention going fishing with them,” Scooter notes.
We spend another hour getting in a good workout, and then the four of us suit up and spend a day playing on the slopes with the rest of the ski resort’s guests.
Joanna even tries her luck on a snowboard. Watching Scooter and Clay patiently direct her on the differences between surfing down the mountain and skiing down the mountain is endearing. It makes me proud because if they are half as good at teaching during working hours at school as they are with her, then I know our students are in great hands.
We have so much fun that we don’t even stop to eat, and we are the last ones on the chairlifts before they close down at nine.
The mess hall is closed since it’s Sunday, so we grab a table at the Cantina and share a plate of nachos and a pot of soup before heading back to the cabanas.
I take a shower and pour myself a glass of wine. I am about to settle in with a book when I hear banging coming from my bedroom.
Grabbing an umbrella from the stand by the door, I tiptoe to the back of the cabana to investigate.
I flip on the light switch, and the room is empty.
Confused, I open the closet door and pull back the comforter.
Satisfied that no monsters are hiding in my bed, I turn to go back to my quiet evening of reading when I hear it again. I walk over to the window and look outside to see Morris with what looks like a sledgehammer in his hand.
I go to the back door and swing it open.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
He looks up and grins. “Building a deck.”
I lean against the doorframe. “Oh, is that all?”
“You said you wanted to be able to sit out back. I agree. So, I’m going to build a deck that expands across the length of the cabanas that we can all access from our back doors,” he explains.
“Just like that?” I say.
He shrugs.
Joanna’s back door swings open, and her head pops out.
“What’s going on out there?” she asks.
“Morris is building a deck.”
“Really? How far will it go out?” she asks.
“I’m thinking five feet,” Morris answers. “That’d be big enough for us to get some comfy couches and maybe a fire table out here.”
