Matched Pairs Ch. 01-02

Fred wandered slowly through the small grocery store, picking up the items on Maggie's list. He noted that she had neglected to write down 'beer'.

"No problem—I'll fix that!" Fred said out loud to himself. He strode to the walk-in cooler and picked out a case. "That will get us started." He picked up two six packs of wine coolers for the girls. They were made from limes and mangos, or some fruity concoction that Fred preferred not to think about.

It took two trips from the grocery store to the dock to get the bags of groceries and case of beer loaded into the boat. "I hate warm beer!" he said to no one in particular. He popped the cap on a bottle from the case he just bought, started the motor of his boat and took the long, slow way to the cabin.

The cold beer was refreshing. As he looked about he noticed that the lake and surrounding forests hadn't changed a bit and that suited Fred to a T. It was his favorite place to relax and unwind. His companions for the week were not his first choice, to be sure. Charlie was okay. He didn't know him very well, but never had a reason to have anything against him. It was Pat who loomed as the potential burr under his saddle. He was determined not to let her get to him.

The Daniel Boone zinger almost had succeeded in making him angry. Pat had obviously passed the nickname to Maggie. Only Fred and Pat knew that it was an allusion to an episode many years before when he had become lost while driving on lonely forest trails in Maine and wound up in Canada by mistake. Pat had a great memory for those kinds of things. The RCMP did, too, but that was another story.

It wasn't as though he and Pat hadn't seen one another since the divorce. They, after all, had a daughter who had graduated college. They managed to be civil to one another on that occasion. The bitterness of the split-up was worn away. She was happy with Charlie and Fred with Maggie. There had been good times, too. Why let it grind? Still, it was a risky, new venture to try this reunion for a whole week.

Fred reckoned that the group would be arriving at the cabin at about that time. By the time he made his way across the lake the cleaning and unpacking would be well under way. Fred had great timing. He popped the top on another beer and turned the skiff toward the cabin, but not too fast.

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Fred docked the boat. The cabin was about fifty yards away. He searched for signs of activity and saw none and that made him worry. If Maggie had taken the wrong dirt road, getting back on course could take hours, especially with the boat trailer behind the SUV. He wasn't sure that Maggie would be able to turn the vehicle around.

He carried a bag of groceries up to the cabin and saw that neither vehicle had arrived. Maggie had the keys with her, so he couldn't get in cabin and didn't want to break in. He set the groceries down on the doorstep. The sun was getting low in the sky; it was still quite warm out. Fred immediately recognized a crisis—something had to be done. It called for fast action. The beer was already warm and he couldn't get into the cabin to get it into the refrigerator. If he didn't do something right away it wouldn't be chilled until the next day.

Fred considered getting back into the boat and searching for a neighbor to store the beer. He wasn't sure that he would find anyone he knew, and it wouldn't look good to count the bottles before entrusting them to an unknown party. Fred, with his brain running at top speed, seized upon a sudden inspiration. The temperature of the air was nearly ninety; the water in the lake was probably twenty degrees less.

The lake couldn't chill the beer, but it would give him a head start when he could get it into the refrigerator. It wasn't perfect, but it was man against the wilderness and he had to improvise. Fred went back to the boat and stripped off his shoes and socks. He was wearing shorts. He hopped into the water. It was two or three feet deep. He reached into the boat and set the case of beer on the silty lakebed. He would retrieve the bottles later and clean up the soaked cardboard. Problem solved!

It was the work of a dedicated genius. He knew Charlie would be grateful. He set out to find the lost caravan. He had an idea where they might be, a fork in the road that was confusing. He was sure that Maggie had chosen the wrong one. It was about a half-mile away.

Fred hiked to the mischievous fork in the dirt road. Sure enough, the two SUV's were at the end of the dead end path about a quarter mile away. Pat, Maggie and Charlie were trying to figure out how to get the SUVs, complete with boat trailer, turned in the right direction. From the angle of the trailer, Fred guessed that Maggie had already backed the trailer into the drainage ditch and had given up trying to back the rig down the lane.

"Look! Daniel Boone's come to save us." Pat quipped as she saw Fred approaching.

Fred didn't like the remark, but had realized earlier in the day that it was going to be his fate to listen to Pat's barbs for the entire week, so he decided not to care.

"Fred, honey, I took the wrong turn," Maggie informed him of the obvious in her helpless woman voice.

"I see that!" answered Fred. "You must have let Pat handle the map." He didn't really care about Pat's barbs, but it was a voluntary indifference and he had the right to suspend it when he so chose. This was too good an opportunity to pass up, as Pat had to sit silently while he rescued them.

The empty boat trailer wasn't heavy and the trail was flat. Fred and Charlie unhitched it from the SUV and pushed it by hand to the fork where they got things pointed in the right way. They finally arrived at the cabin at just before five in the afternoon.

The four of them quickly emptied out the two SUVs and pushed the boat trailer out of the way. The women set about making up the beds and cleaning, even thought they hadn't been at the cabin long enough to get anything dirty. Fred noticed that the landlord had already turned on the refrigerator.

"Perfect!" he exclaimed to quizzical looks from Pat and Maggie. "Charlie," he called out, "empty out that basket of clothes and give me a hand."

The two men went out the front door toward the lake, empty clothes basket in hand.

"Where do you guys think you're going?" called Pat after them. Fred explained his ploy to cool the beer in the lake.

"Good thinking!" exclaimed Charlie.

"You mean you were here playing with beer bottles in the lake while we were stranded on that dirt road?" Maggie accused incredulously.

"I wasn't playing," Fred argued back. "I was protecting my investment, and it only took two extra minutes."

"Beer wasn't even on my grocery list," snapped Maggie.

"I noticed, but I added it in. I figured that you forgot," Fred yelled over his shoulder as he strode out with Charlie toward the dock.

Pat could see that Maggie was starting to fume. "Look, he bought us some wine coolers." She pointed out to cool her friend down.

Fred waded into the lake and handed the beer bottles to Charlie who stood on the dock

"Maggie sounded mad," Charlie warned.

"Forget it!" Fred reassured him. "She's just feeling guilty for getting lost and putting the trailer in the ditch. She's looking for someone else to shoulder the blame. She'll get over it."

Back in the cabin the women were finishing their housekeeping.

"Want to break out our new bikinis?" Pat asked.

"It's a little late. It should start cooling off soon," Maggie said. Besides, Fred will think that it's a peace offering for yelling at him over the beer."

"You're not still mad are you?" Pat asked.

"No," Maggie answered. "But it wouldn't look good to go into full retreat—and the sun is getting pretty low."

"Have a wine cooler," Pat offered.

The women fell silent as Fred and Charlie walked into the cabin with the beer and started loading it into the refrigerator. He saved out four bottles and put them into the freezer to move them along faster.

"Why don't Charlie and I start the fire and put the steaks on?" Fred suggested. Everyone remembered that they had skipped lunch.

It was seven before they sat down to eat. Maggie's and Fred's sparring over the beer was forgotten. Pat and Fred kept their barbs to themselves, at least temporarily. By the time they finished dinner it was nine in the evening. Charlie and Fred sat outdoors having another beer while the women cleaned up. They discussed playing golf and fishing. Fred promised to give Charlie a guided boat tour around the lake. The women joined them with a wine cooler each.

"I'm tired!" Pat declared. It was heading toward ten. "I think it's this mountain air."

"It was a long day traveling." Maggie agreed. "I'm going to turn in."

They all decided that it would be a good idea. They would all hit the sack and start the new day fresh and rested.

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TO BE CONTINUED

Dear Readers,

Thank you for reading "Matched Pairs". I hope that you're enjoying it so far. There will be eight chapters in all.

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Autumn Writer