Page 41 of The Weekend Crashers
Aidan meets her eyes and it gives her a little jolt. “You think so?”
“Yes,” she says, sounding more certain than she feels. She’s never built anything in her life, unless you count the Lego sets when Piper was little.
“We already started gathering material. When we’re done, we need to get these larger branches propped up for an A-frame, then start weaving in the smaller branches and vines,” Aidan says.
“We’re gathering materials, not building the actual fort,” Cole says to him.
“I know. But if we construct a sample of how the elements we collected work, it shows we know what we’re doing.”
Cole nods, and Maggie wonders how seriously they’re taking their own intra-team competition. She suspects they’re not at all concerned about the one among the four of them. They think they’ve already won.
“I’m ready. Let’s go!” Maggie says. Piper shoots her a look like,Calm down.
“Cole, you grab the other end of this log for me. Maggie, you and Piper can start stringing together those vines so that when the frame goes up, we can fill in the openings quickly.”
Does he presume she and Piper aren’t capable of doing heavy lifting?
“Hold up—here comes Grandpa,” Cole says.
Maggie recognizes the man heading over. She saw him at the lunch table yesterday. He looks like he’s in his late seventies, trim with a nearly full head of gray hair. He’s wearingblack sunglasses and an olive-green all-weather jacket zipped up, camouflage cargo pants, hiking boots, a tactical belt, and a wide-brimmed hat.
“Hello, boys. Just wanted to meet the guests you told me about, Aidan. Howdy, ladies.”
“Barclay, these are our friends Maggie and Piper,” Aidan says.
The man lowers his sunglasses and looks at her.
“Aren’t you the gal who scolded us yesterday at lunch for being too loud?” he says.
Maggie feels her face flush. Piper turns to her and says, “Wait—what did you do?”
“Nothing,” Maggie says. Then, to Barclay, “Yes, that was me. Sorry about that.”
“Bygones,” he says. “I’m just glad to see you’ve found a more productive outlet for your aggression.”
Aidan takes a step forward.
“Dad, we’re all good over here. Everything’s under control,” he says.
“Not so fast: Since you’re now a foursome, you’re a new team. Gonna call you Team Boyce, after the great outdoorsman William Dickson Boyce.”
“Fantastic. In it to win it, Grandpa,” Cole says.
“Wait—what are the other teams?” Maggie says.
“Glad you asked, little lady,” says Barclay. “We have team Daniel Boone, and team Davy Crockett—the team the Barclay boys seceded from.”
“Seceded might be an overstatement,” says Aidan.
“Yeah, Grandpa. We can probably do without the Civil War references.”
Maggie is still recovering from “Little lady.” She can’t believe people still talk like that.
“Well,” she says, “since our team is half female, we should be named after a woman.”
She feels Aidan looking at her, and Barclay clearly doesn’t know whether she’s serious or busting his chops. Either way, he’s smiling.
“Like who?” he says.
