opened the door for her. “I’m rambling to cover up being so awkward around you. Leave it to me to mess up in the first two minutes.”
She laid a hand on his arm. “You didn’t mess up anything. I’m every bit as nervous as you are.”
Her touch stilled his nerves. “Thank you for that, Mitzi.”
He led her through the foyer and into the kitchen, where he took two beers from the refrigerator and handed one to her, then realized that he should have opened it for her. He could run a dealership, buy and sell cars, organize and take care of all the departments without blinking an eye, but every day he knew Mitzi, the more tongue-tied and awkward he became.
“Bring your beer and follow me.” He led her from the kitchen out onto the screened porch.
“My granny has a room like this, and I’ve always loved it.”
“It was part of the reason I wanted this house. My grandparents had one like this, too, and I used to enjoy spending time there with my grandpa while he told me stories about his younger days.” He opened the door out to the backyard, where he’d laid out the lumber, the four-by-eight sheet of lattice, and all of his tools.
“Looks to me like you’re pretty organized.” She pulled the tab from the top of her beer, took a long drink, and then set it down on the porch. “Let’s get busy. I think it should be at least six feet wide to accommodate our bride mannequin. If we get to go next year, we may get us a male mannequin and dress him up in a suit or tux.”
He didn’t want to talk about bridal fairs or even wedding arches. He wanted to reinforce what he’d said to Kayla the day before about never getting back with his ex-wife. Mitzi needed to understand that for him to ever be able to ask her out on a date—and that’s what he really wanted to do.
She laid out the plans on the porch. “So we build a frame, then cover it with lattice, right?”
“Yes,” he said. “I did some research and found out that it should be about seven feet tall and five feet wide, but with your model being a big woman, I thought we’d make it bigger.”
I want to ask you out on a real date, he thought.
“That sounds good. What can I do to help?”
“First we build a base for it to sit on,” he said.
Maybe a movie or a play in Dallas after we have a romantic supper.
“It doesn’t have to be really well finished. We’ll be using a lot of flowers and greenery on it,” she said.
I wonder if maybe it would be easier if we did something like a picnic with the girls at first.
“I’ve already sawed the boards for the base,” he said. “I thought we’d make it in five pieces. The two bases, the sides, and then the arched top. That way after the bridal fair, we could take a few screws out and store it flat.”
I’m going to ask her to go out on my pontoon boat before she leaves here today.
He picked up a board and carried it to the chop saw he’d set up on the porch. “If you’ll hold that end and keep it steady, I’ll take a foot off the other end.”
In an hour they had the framework done and the plastic lattice cut to size and bent over the whole thing. She sat down on the back porch and leaned against the porch post. Sweat stuck her hair to her face and forehead, and her arms glistened with moisture.
Dammit again! He should have stopped working halfway through the job and offered her another beer or at least a bottle of water. He was failing miserably as a gentleman.
“I have a pontoon boat,” he blurted out as he sat down beside her. “The girls have been begging me to take it out. Want to go with us next Sunday after church? You can invite Harry and Fanny Lou and Paula and Jody if you want.” He held his breath, waiting for her to say something.
“That would be fun,” she said slowly.
“Want a drink of something?” Lord, nothing he said came out right. “I mean . . .”
She laid a moist hand on his sweaty knee. “Graham, I’m a little . . . what’s the word . . . discomfited is what Granny would say . . . around you, too. I