It cracked me up that she always attributed everything to our mayor, who Dawson was currently using as a climbing structure. Duke had made some improvements to the town. The first was clearing up all the unpaid city fines by allowing people to drop off food items that were donated to charities. They’d also fenced off an area at the park close to my house for a dog park.
“We have some run-down properties that the city has decided are eyesores. I looked through the list, and there are a handful where the occupants can’t afford to make the improvements. I thought that you might be able to help them so we don’t have to levy fines,” Grandma Dawson explained.
“When you say help …”
“I mean, volunteer your time to help clean up. Like at the address I gave you. Sidney Hytong is an elderly man on a fixed income who isn’t ready to go to a nursing home. His yard has been neglected for the past couple of years because he isn’t able to take care of it.”
“How bad is it?” I asked.
“Well, we’ve sent out a lot of notices to people, but I don’t think anyone has received more than Sidney’s 43. I talked to Margaret Rice, and she said that you can borrow what you need from the city. Mike Perovich suggested that you would need a brush hog to knock it down and a truck to take the debris to the dump. Oh, and a power washer,” she said with a straight face.
This project sounded like more than a one-man job. Then I remembered my suggestion earlier in the day to Cassidy. What if I got a group of my friends together to help, and then we went bowling afterward to make a day of it? It might be fun to do some good and then hang out.
I smiled when I remembered what Hunter Jacobs had told me: I could solve problems if I took a step back to see the big picture. This fit with enjoying my senior year, hanging out with my friends, and also doing good.
“Okay,” I said, without elaboration.
Grandma looked shocked. I expect she thought I would push back when she started to list off all the equipment I would need.
“I’ll let Margaret know and have her load up a truck with everything you need. What time should I say you’ll be by?”
“After church. How about I pick it up around noon?” I suggested.
“Okay. When you’re close to finishing, give me a call. The mayor will want to swing by and inspect the results.”
This time, Grandma couldn’t keep a straight face. I stuck my tongue out at her and left her to call whoever she needed to get me the tools for the job.
I knew exactly who to call. Several of them owed me for Valentine’s Day.
◊◊◊
When the kids had wound down, and the grandmothers had finished off another bottle of wine, Greg and I got a chance to talk.
“How goes Darius’s education?” I asked.
I’d asked my brother to help Dare learn about girls like he’d taught me freshman year.
“You owe me for that one.”
“I considered us even when I got Joey to be your personal trainer,” I fired back.
“It might have been fine if everyone hadn’t horned in.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“Mom invited everyone at her office, including Megan, and all your baby mamas. Angie has even been making noise about working out in the mornings,” he complained.
“But you get to see Joey each morning,” I reminded him.
“Yeah,” he admitted. “Thanks for that. I just can’t imagine what all that is costing you.”
“Honestly, I don’t care what it costs if it means you and Dad are healthy.”
“I appreciate it. I hadn’t realized how much weight I’d gained. Angie has me on the same diet as Dad to get the pounds off,” Greg shared.
“I won’t tell her about the lasagna then,” I assured him.
He just laughed. I’d forgotten he had three rug-rats who would let that slip. We had no secrets with them around.
◊◊◊ Sunday February 19
Mom and I went to early church and then picked up Dad for brunch at Granny’s West. I almost felt sorry for him when I had to eat his cinnamon roll. Almost. When I got home, Cassidy looked unhappy.
“What’s eating you?” I asked as I got into the Demon’s passenger seat.
“Do we really have to volunteer today?” she asked.
“It’ll make you a better person.”
She didn’t think too much of my reasoning. We picked up Dare and then Chrissy. They were a little too happy for Cassidy’s mood, which put a smile on my face.
Dare impressed me when he picked up on her bad mood. He tentatively leaned over the back of the seat to show me his phone. I burst out laughing when I saw his calendar: it noted when Cassidy’s period would start, which was today. She glared at me, and I shut up. The little dumbass showed Chrissy.
“I have some Midol if you need it,” Chrissy told Cassidy.
It was a good thing we were all strapped in because the tires smoked when she slammed on the brakes. I heard her heavy breathing as she struggled to get herself under control.
“Going on the pill is supposed to help PMS,” Dare offered.
