Chapter 45
The Agreement
Mike could smell something good when he came out of the bedroom. He’d made mention the night before that he had to get up early and he guessed that Vicky had gotten up to fix him something to eat. She’d told him several times that she appreciated that he’d bought groceries. He had told her that she was more than welcome.
When he stepped into the kitchen and saw Celia in the wheelchair in front of the microwave, he stopped in his tracks. She looked like she’d been up a while, and if he hadn’t noticed she’d changed shirts, he might think she hadn’t gone to bed.
“Good morning. You’re up early . . . or late?”
“A little of both. I’ve been up since five. I just couldn’t sleep.”
“I have those nights now and then. Were you in pain?”
“No. Well, yes, but it wasn’t that. My mind was just working overtime. It’s like I’ve come out of a dream and I can’t wait to start my life over, but here I am stuck in this wheelchair, and broke.”
“Well, the broke part might change soon if we move the house. And, if you can sell a couple of cars, it will go a long way to getting you back on your feet.”
“I can’t wait. I don’t know who I want to prove it to more that I can do this, me or Martin.”
“Do it for yourself and it will mean more.”
“I think you’re right. There’s coffee ready if you want a cup to go with this.” She turned to the microwave and pulled out a plate with a sandwich on it.”
“I hope you didn’t do that for me. You’re supposed to be resting.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I didn’t hurt myself. It’s just a warmed bologna sandwich with cheese and hot sauce. I thought it was the least I could do for you feeding us.”
“How did you know I would want hot sauce on it?”
“Martin. I don’t know how many times he told me that story about how you guys lived on bologna and hot sauce for three days when you went camping and forgot most of your supplies.”
Mike poured a cup of coffee and then sat down, pulling the plate closer. “That was an awful week. It rained almost the whole time, and you’re right, we got in a hurry and forgot everything but one bag of groceries.”
“Tell me again why grown men camp?”
Mike took a bite of his sandwich and grinned. “Because it’s fun. That time we didn’t do a lot of anything but sit in the tent reading and listening to it rain, but most of the time, it’s a lot of fun. Fishing, eating over an open fire, hiking and the scenery is just beautiful.”
“It still sounds like more work than fun.”
“That just means you’ve never been camping with the right person, or maybe, you’ve never been at all.”
“The latter. It never sounded like anything I wanted to do.”
“I suppose you’re one of those women who can’t stand a little dirt or breaking a nail. I know the type. They never know how to have fun. I really feel sorry for people who are never willing to try anything new.”
“People always say that, but when was the last time you tried something new that you were confident you’d hate after it was over?”
“I don’t know, but how can you be sure you’ll hate something if you’ve never tried it?” He wanted to laugh when she raised a brow and gave him a disgusted look. An idea came to him and he said, “Pick something you think I’ll hate and when you’re up to it we’ll go.”
She shook her head. “You say that now but when you find out I picked a sewing class or something else just as feminine, you won’t go.”
He took a few bites of his sandwich and wondered what he was getting himself into. She rolled the wheelchair a few feet and he guessed she was about to go back to her bedroom, so he spoke. “We talked about this earlier when I told you I wanted you to go fishing. Well, how about this? You pick something… anything, and if you’ll go camping and fishing with me and Roger, I’ll do it.”
She turned and gave him a look that let him know he might be sorry later. “Anything?”
“Within reason. I don’t want to be modeling women’s bathing suits. If it’s something that men do, yes, but don’t go out on a limb too far because if I go, you’ll have to go, too.”
She turned her chair around and looked at him. “How many nights do I have to camp out?”
“Let’s do it like this. If what you find for me to do lasts four hours to a day, you’ll go camping for one day. If it’s a two day event, you go for two days.”
He could see her thinking it over. He ate the last two bites of his sandwich and took a drink of coffee while waiting on her to answer. She moved a bit closer to the table and asked him, “Where will we go camping?”
“Somewhere close, but not in the backyard, if that’s what you were thinking. It will have to be a real campground and you have to try to enjoy yourself.”
“With tents and eating out of cans?”
Mike laughed. “With tents but we might manage not to eat out of cans this time. I’m a pretty fair cook. Are you game or chicken?”
This had her attention and she crossed her arms. “I’m not afraid to go camping. I’m just sure I won’t enjoy it and have never wanted to go.”
“Sounds like chicken to me.” Mike took his plate and cup to the sink and washed them. He turned around to find her still looking in his direction.
“You’re trying to think of something terrible to put me through, aren’t you? I’ve got to get to work. Is it a deal or not? You don’t even have to tell me now what you’ll have me doing.” He held out his hand. She looked at his hand, smiled and reached out her good arm.
“You’ve got a deal.” They shook hands but instead of turning loose quickly, Mike turned her hand over and looked at it.
“I’ll bet these hands have never been in dirt, put a worm on a fishing line or gathered firewood. I think you’ll enjoy all those things, once you try them.”
He let go of her hand, and gave her a wink, as he stifled a laugh. He walked out the door but could still see her sitting there with that pouting look. She was regretting their agreement, but he wasn’t going to let her out of it, no matter what she came up with for him to do. He was going to get her out into the wilderness and he’d bet his next weeks salary that she would love it!