Two Bar Mitzvahs (No Weddings #3)(42)
We escaped to a fresh round of laughter as I tucked a drenched Hannah closer into my side and lowered my mouth to her ear. “That leaves us plenty of time to hose off Ava and blow her dry for a crate-time nap. Plus a whole extra hour for me to hose you off, get you wet all over again…maybe some blowing. Then we’ll get to the drying.”
She snorted and broke away, racing back around the side of the house toward the front. I put Ava down, and we chased after her. And as the wind hit my face, I thought that our weekend away was off to a perfect start.
18
Family Time
At 1:06 p.m., I ushered a blushing and thoroughly satisfied woman back down to the pool area. Hannah had begged me to take the sleeping Ava back out, since the dog would be crated at night, and of course, I caved to her and Mom’s earlier request for puppy time.
And, after the lousy morning with dual surprise health inspections, I welcomed anything to distract us into enjoying ourselves.
We hadn’t taken two steps onto the patio before I spotted Dad in front of the barbeque. Armed with tongs in one hand and a metal spatula in the other, he wore a black grilling apron and a white chef’s hat.
“Mom make you wear that thing?” Grinning, I pointed at his head.
He glanced over at Mom, winking. “Maybe.”
A breeze blew some of the smoke our way, and I coughed. Then I pulled Hannah away from the dissipating cloud, approaching the tables and chairs that were shaded with umbrellas. I took the leash from Hannah and tied it around the leg of the nearest lounge chair while Hannah poured a glass of water into an empty dog bowl she’d carried. The boundary gave the dog plenty of room to reach us where we sat at the far end of the tables, but kept her out of danger and the risk of getting underfoot.
Kendall handed me an open beer as she walked by. “Hannah, we’re serving up mai tais. You game?”
Hannah nodded. “Yeah, I’ll try one.”
Kiki blinked, moving to a chair across from us, out of the sun. “You’ve never had a mai tai?”
“Nope.” Hannah said the word with a popping “P” on the end.
“What about pi?a coladas? I know you’ve had strawberry daiquiris,” Kiki replied.
Hannah took a sip of my beer. “I’ve experimented plenty with drinks.”
Mom walked up with their guests. “Hannah, these are our friends and direct neighbors Lana and Kevin Thompson. And this is Walter and Amy Rivers; they live around the block.”
“Nice to meet you.” Hannah gave a little wave, since all the chairs and people between them made it impossible to shake hands.
Although Dad could’ve grilled something as pretentious as steaks, we didn’t roll that way. Not at our house. Dad wined and dined any day, and many nights, for business. But he never brought any of that flash beyond the front gate at the curb. Our home was his sanctuary, a casual place filled with laughter and love.
And so Dad shouted out the menu choices, “All the burgers with cheese, say aye.”
“Aye,” I called.
“Aye,” Kristen added.
“Any hot dog takers?”
Kendall, Lana, Jason, Kevin, and I all called out an affirmative. Kendall returned to the table with Hannah’s tropical drink, complete with an hourglass-shaped glass, a blue drink umbrella, and a wedge of orange dangling on the rim.
Impressed with the presentation, I arched a brow. “You looking for a job at the bar?”
Kendall scrunched her face at me.
I laughed. “Could’ve fooled me. That’s a five-star looking drink.”
“Pffft.” Kendall plopped into a seat across from us.
Kristen began to pass around two platters, one with burgers and the other with toasted buns. “When have you ever seen us blend a drink without dressing it up?”
I thought back, realizing Kristen was right. In fact, we’d all been making mixed drinks since we were tall enough to work at the counter without tipping over the glassware, long before we were old enough to drink them. It was a game we played when Mom and Dad were entertaining. And somehow their cute kids playing bartender had turned into amusement for the guests. “You’re right. Totally forgot about that.”
Kristen snorted. “No wonder why you wanted to open your own bar and tend behind it.”
“Kendall, help me with the rest of the food,” Mom called from the kitchen door.
I got up. “I’ll help too.”
Hannah scooted back, but I shook my head. “Stay here. Relax and keep an eye on Ava. She’ll keep calm if you’re here.”
We returned with the side dishes, Mom and Kendall with bowls of chips and dips, me with a watermelon half filled with melon balls. Several conversations were underway already, my Dad and Kevin in a friendly debate over the proposed shopping mall a few blocks down. Ava had found a quiet spot in the shade under her lounger and had sprawled out for a nap.
At our three umbrella tables, our family caught up with one another and neighbors gossiped. Kevin mentioned admiring Clinton Iverson’s new Bugatti Veyron. Mom whispered the news about David Stewart’s new twenty-something wife.
When the food had been eaten, the gossip topics exhausted, and the energy dwindled down, we said good-bye to the neighbors. I purposefully hung back with Hannah and Ava for a few minutes before the rental trucks started to arrive for the party setup. I glanced at Hannah who sipped the last of her second mai tai.