Page 43 of Fun Together
He disappears by the side of the house, but I hear him rummaging around in the garage. He comes back with a purple bicycle helmet.
“Thought I had one, but I think I let your brother borrow it for his kitchen demo.” He tosses the helmet up to me. It’s covered in sparkly star stickers and has Evie’s name written in Sharpie marker on the inside of it. “This’ll do just fine.”
“You sure about that?” I put the helmet on my head, but since it’s obviously not made for a grown adult, it just perches on top. I can buckle the straps, but barely. “I think OSHA might think otherwise.”
“The branch won’t fall on you. It’ll go into the pool.”
From this angle, the branch looks even more large and menacing. I have flashbacks to when I fell from it. “And we meet again.” I look back down at the ground and try to imagine what a professional would do in this situation. “How heavy do you think this thing is? Won’t it just crash into the water and make a big mess?”
Dad snaps his fingers in the air. “Ah, good thinking. Let me find the pool cover.”
I hear the sounds of more digging in the garage. This time, he comes out dragging a big blue tarp behind him.
“Forgot we hadn’t bought the cover yet, but this will work.” He spreads the tarp over the top of the pool. “Alright, give her a good chop, son.”
I turn the trimmer on and start by cutting a tiny off-shoot from the main branch to see what happens. It floats down, and lands quietly onto the tarp.
“See? This’ll be easy,” he encourages.
Feeling more confident now, I drive the trimmer into the base of the branch. Since it’s pretty thick, this might take a while. My shoulders are already starting to burn, but I power through. I pause to take a look at how far I’ve gotten, because it feels like it could fall at any minute.
But I’ve only cut about an inch into it.
“What on earth are you two doing?”
I lower the trimmer slowly and rest it on top of the ladder. “I thought you said she was out running errands,” I whisper down to my dad.
He shrugs apologetically. “You know I can’t keep up with her.”
“Hey, Mom. How are you today?” I smile down at her in the way that usually gets me out of trouble.
She pulls her sunglasses on top of head and glares at me. “Eli Thomas Miller, get down from that ladder.”
The smile has never worked on her.
My dad turns to her. “Patti, you said that you wished there was a way to keep the pool from getting so dirty.”
She gives him an exasperated look. “So, you’ve got our son up on a ladder risking life and limb?”
“He’s doing a great job. Look, he’s almost done.” My head darts back and forth between the two of them like I’m watching a verbal tennis match. I decide it’s best not to interject that I’m not even close to being done. Right now, the branch looks like it’s been poked at a few times by the world’s tiniest axe.
I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket.
“We can call somebody to do this. It’s dangerous,” she says.
“Mom, it’s fine. See?” I knock my knuckles against the side of the helmet. “Safety first.”
She shakes her head, and I vaguely hear them talking in the background while I check to see who has texted me.
Faye: Hey coach, you busy this weekend?
I take a selfie and send it to her.
“We need to take a break anyway,” my dad says. This is definitely his way of admitting defeat without actually admitting defeat.
I climb down from the ladder, careful not to accidentally trim one of my own limbs off.
“Are you hungry?” Mom holds up a white paper bag. “I have hot dogs.”
