My Best Summer Mistake

~~~~

By noon we had primed all the walls.

"We have to wait a day before painting," Hanna said. "I'll make lunch. Anything you want. Name it."

She refused every offer of help, insisting I relax on the patio. So, I sat at the patio table, still naked, sipping lemonade she had brought.

Sober, Hanna was a different person, and she seemed genuinely remorseful. I had done plenty of regretful things when drunk, so it was impossible not to forgive her.

Even better, she was skilled, hardworking, and meticulous—I didn't see a single errant brush stroke. In only a few hours, we finished a task that would have taken me the whole day.

We sat at the patio table, looking at the sparkling lake while eating roast beef sandwiches and more oi muchim. I began appreciating the spicy and sweet banchan, as she called it.

She asked to see my list of tasks, so I handed it to her, my heart sinking at see how few items I had crossed off.

Hanna inspected it. "You know this is a test, right? Grandfather doesn't really expect you to get all this done."

"Oh, he was very clear I had to."

"He did the same kind of thing with us kids. Give us an impossible list to see how we made out. It's his test of character, efficiency, resourcefulness. To see if you'll do the important tasks first instead of the order they are on the list, and—this is really important—how well you do each one. Quality over quantity, you know? Hey, has anything broken yet?"

I considered. "A few things. Like the lawnmower spark plug was missing, and it was out of oil. Blades hadn't been sharpened in ages, either. I found a spark plug and fixed it all up."

Hanna nodded. "Guess you haven't found the riding mower in the other shed. The bigger one on the other side of the house?"

"I don't have a key for that. Your grandfather said it had lawn chairs and kayaks."

Hanna grinned. "It does. Plus, his pride and joy lawn tractor. One of his gifts to Mr. Sorenson a few years back. The key for the small shed also opens the big one."

"Son of a... that's pretty unfair. Why didn't he just tell me? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Like I said: it's a test. I bet he never said the big shed was off limits. And said something like if you find a better way to do something, do it."

"Uh, yeah. He did."

"That's a good sign. He only tests people he thinks have promise. It might even mean he likes you. And if I told you about the lawn tractor, I would have missed out seeing you push that old mower around in the buff."

~~~~

Throughout lunch, Hanna treated me as an honored guest, constantly offering more to eat or drink. Being served made me uncomfortable, but what a change from the spoiled girl of yesterday. She seemed so forlorn, though.

Hanna offered to take my plate when I finished, insisting I stay on the patio, but I refused and helped carry everything inside. On the way to the kitchen, we walked through the livingroom past the piano.

"Hey, Hanna? Why don't you like people hear you sing? Or play? You're fantastic."

"And you're a liar," she said. "I suck. I only play for myself."

"Yeah, I used to too," I said. "Until I got some confidence."

"You play piano?"

"Piano music looks like an algebra test. Too many notes. No, I... hey, can you meet me in the living room in a minute? I'm going to get something from my room. You're going to laugh, though. I know you'll laugh."

~~~~

She laughed.

"Banjo?" she said. "You play banjo? Are you sure you're not a hayseed?"

"It's more complicated than people think," I said, fully aware how ridiculous I looked standing there tuning the strings stark naked. "You can do some amazing things with it. Ever heard Bela Fleck play? Or Steve Martin? And no matter what, the sound always cheers me up."

Hanna ran to the piano. Seating herself, she grinned over her shoulder and picked out the first notes of "Dueling Banjos."

Rolling my eyes, I said, "Yeah, okay. I knew that was coming." I stood beside the piano. "All right... let's do it. See if you can keep up."

I plucked the same notes in reply, and we went into it.

Hanna led, I followed, working our way through the one banjo tune everyone knew. We went back and forth, call and response, testing each other, teasing each other. As the tempo increased with each round, so did our grins. When Hanna began improvising, I went right along as she sneaked in snippets of everything from "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" to "Phantom of the Opera."

"Holy fuuuck!" she squealed as I sped up the tempo even more. Soon her hands were a blur on the keys and mine were a blur on the strings.

Our duel ended with our hands cramping and both of us laughing too much to continue. Hanna steadied herself against the piano as she shook with laughter. I rubbed my aching fingertips with my thumb, chuckling along with her.

"Oh my god, that's so great!" she said, eyes gleaming. My heart swelled seeing her happy.

"Do you play in a band?" she asked.

"I don't think I could ever play on a stage. I have a video channel, though. Just me from the neck down and a made-up name, playing random tunes. I have a massive 37 subscribers. Most of the comments have been pretty great."

"What other tunes can you play?" Hanna asked.

I plucked out the first notes of Pachelbel's Canon.

"Oh, you are not serious."

"Why not?" I said. "It's usually played on harpsichord. Which is also a strummed instrument, by the way. C'mon... play along. I'm sure you know it."

Hanna steadied her bare rump on the piano bench and joined in. We sounded good and soon were riffing and embellishing, improvising off each other in a musical conversation. She played beautifully and was far better than me at improvisation. When she added runs and trills and other ornamentation, I added a few bluegrass flourishes, making her chuckle.

At the end, we high-fived each other.

"That was fantastic!" she said. "Here... how are you at sight reading?" She pulled a page of music from behind the pile on the piano's music stand.

The piece was for piano but included the chords. I started strumming, working out the tune. Hanna nodded with excitement and played along until slowly I got it. To my surprise, she lifted her head and sang:

There are nine million bicycles in Beijing
That's a fact
It's a thing we can't deny
Like the fact that I will love you till I die

I didn't know the song, but the lyrics were clever and sweet, and Hanna sang with a warmth and emotion that struck me so hard I nearly forgot to strum along.

"That works really well with banjo," she said when we finished.

I could only nod, until I shook myself and found my voice.

"Who... who is that?"

"Katie Melua," Hanna said. "Yeah, I know—her songs are sappy, but I like them."

"Your voice and your playing are so amazing! How'd you like to be a guest-star on my awesomely unpopular video channel? No faces and no names, I promise. It's a crime not to share your talent."

She blinked and rubbed her neck. "I—I don't know. Let me think about it."

~~~~

I sat on the patio with my list of tasks, using Hanna's new insights about her grandfather to prioritize each one.

Hanna plopped down beside me and began offering suggestions. I had almost become used to both of us being naked, but her closeness as we poured over the list caused my dick to swell. A faint woody floral fragrance mixed with her own perspiration drifted from her skin and even in the humid afternoon air, heat radiated from her body.

"You did a great job mowing yesterday," she said. "Especially with that crappy old mower. Next time, maybe mow in strips—like a golf course. Grandfather appreciates that. And with the ride-on, it's super easy. I'll show you. Or you could blow his mind and do a diamond pattern. My cousin did that once. It's not so easy, though."

Hanna saw the completion dates I had written beside each finished item.

"Have you worked every single day since you've been here?" she asked.

"Have to. And if it's like you say and your grandfather doesn't really expect me to get everything done, imagine how impressed he'll be when I do."

"Well, with me helping, that'll be easy, right?"

"No, no, no. You only need to help me catch up, Hanna. And I will be by the end of today. Then you're free to relax and do whatever you want."

She shook her head. "Oh, no. I owe you. I'll be your helper every day from now on."

"I can't ask you to do that, Hanna."

"You didn't. I'm volunteering. Besides, there's no way I can laze around while you're working your ass off."

Soon we finished prioritizing the list and for the first time, it all looked doable. If Hanna only helped a little, we could get it all done—provided I could learn to concentrate with her beside me every day.

~~~~

A long gravel lane snaked through a dense pine woodland from the estate to the rural highway. The afternoon task was to trim overgrowth from the sides of the lane.

"You should get dressed for that," I said. "You've punished yourself enough."

"I made you stay naked all day yesterday. So, I have to for the same amount of time. You can get dressed, though."

"Nope. If you're nude, Hanna, so am I."

"Grrr. You're so damn stubborn!"

Hanna had only brought running shoes and high heels, but she found a pair of tall rubber boots that would protect her feet. I pulled on my work boots, cowboy hat and found us work gloves.

"And look what I found." Hanna stood rocking on the balls of her feet, hands behind her back, looking delightful with her hair tied up and wearing nothing but rubber boots.

She produced a battered straw cowboy hat, the cheap type sold at festivals with a curled brim and airbrushed weathering.

"I found it in the basement," she said, plopping it on her head. "Probably one of my brother's."

"Well, aren't you something?" I said, laughing. "But you have to earn a hat like that, little filly."

"Filly? I'm a full-grown mare."

"Full-grown nightmare, you mean."

Hanna stuck out her tongue. "Only when I'm drunk. Any other time, I'm a perfect angel."

No angel could inspire the devilish thoughts in me that she did.

I handed her some garden shears, grabbed the weed whacker, and we began trimming back weeds and brush from the edges of the lane, starting at the house and working towards the highway.

It was another humid afternoon, but the towering trees sheltered us from the sun. Again, Hanna worked tirelessly and expertly, having cleared weeds with her brothers and cousin each summer for years. We progressed up the lane much quicker than I expected.

"You know," she said, flinging a handful of cuttings into the woods, "I was looking forward to being here alone, except for visits by Mr. Sorenson. Now I realize I would've gone crazy with nothing to do. I'm really glad you're here. I like helping you. Sorry I was such a shit to you yesterday."

"I forgive you, Hanna. I've done shitty things too when I was drunk. Though nothing as shitty as what you did."

Hanna laughed and backhanded my arm. "Wow. Way to make me feel better! I deserve it, though. It's hard picturing you being bad. You're so responsible." She faced me and ran her eyes over me. "Maybe you should get drunk and show me your wild side."

"You never want to see that. Trust me."

Getting wild with Hanna was the last thing I could allow. I hoped she would give up going naked soon: seeing Hanna's fit, womanly body was delightful, but every time she bent over, somehow always with her bum pointed straight at me and flashing a tantalizing peek of her pussy from between her legs, my resolve eroded a bit more.

When we heard a distant crunch of tires on gravel, Hanna and I looked at each other in shock before I grabbed her hand and pulled us into the brush at the side of the lane. Branches scratched as we fought through them then crouched side-by-side. A white pickup truck rolled past toward the house.

"It's the power company," Hanna whispered. "They come on random days once a month to read the power meter."

Shortly after the truck went out of sight, the chime and buzz of the driveway alarm came from my cellphone tucked in my boot.

"I guess the sensor is a little closer to the house," I said, standing and helping Hanna to her feet.

"Yeah, we worked past it half an hour ago."

We shared a look of profound relief as our breathing and heartbeats slowed.

"That was close!" I said with a laugh.

"That was stupid," she said. "We need to be more careful."

"Who else has the code for the gate?"

"Hmm. The meter guy, the company that refills the propane tanks, and in the winter, the guy who plows the lane. I think that's it."

"Will the meter guy expect someone to be there?" I asked.

"He just goes to the box on the side of the house and uses his handheld thingy to get the numbers. He'll be gone in a few minutes. Shit! You're bleeding!"

She pointed to a scratch on my shoulder seeping blood. Hanna was bleeding from a scratch high on the front of one thigh, and we had smaller scratches everywhere on our legs and sides.

Soon, the driveway alarm dinged again. We crouched to watch the truck head back to the highway. We gathered our tools and walked back to the estate, agreeing to finish weeding the lane later, and to do it clothed.

"You know, the last time a guy pulled me into some bushes, it was a lot more fun," she said with a grin.

Hanna fetched medical supplies and we sat on stools at the patio bar tending our wounds. I couldn't reach the cut on my shoulder, so Hanna daubed it with antiseptic from behind.

When she finished, she gave my neck a little kiss, sending a warm tingle all through me.

"A kiss to make your boo boo all better," she purred.

"Thank you, doctor. Can I kiss the cut on your thigh?"

"Do that and I might need you to kiss another place nearby."

"You want me to kiss your ass? That's so rude!"

"Wrong side," she said with a chuckle.

"Bellybutton?"

"Lower."

"Oh. Your knee."

She swatted me. "Remind me never to play doctor with you."

I laughed. "C'mon, we need to get back to work."

Hanna looked at me. "You've worked every day since you've been here, right? It's hot, we're injured, so let's take the rest of the afternoon off. Don't you think you deserve it?"

~~~~

After relentless persuasion, I agreed to relax for the rest of the day. On the patio, Hanna handed me a beer and poured herself a glass of lemonade.

"I'm never drinking again," she said as we toasted each other.

I laughed. "Yeah. I say that too every time I'm hung over."

We reclined on patio loungers, looking at the lake.

"There's a floating platform I have to anchor out there," I said. "I saw it in the weeds at the edge of the beach."

"Oh my god," Hanna said, "will you stop thinking about work? You're allowed to relax once in a while, you know."

"I would've done it already," I said, "but there's no rowboat or anything to tow it out with. Is there one in the big shed?"

"You don't need a boat. Every year, one of us just swims it out."

She saw my concerned expression. "Oh. You can't swim?"

"No, I can swim just fine. It's just... I've only done it in swimming pools. Aren't there, like, eels and leaches in lakes?"

"Not in that lake," Hanna said. "Though the piranha we stocked it with a few years ago are flourishing. And my uncle released a tiger shark in there last spring. We call him Mr. Nibbles."

"Now who's snarky?" I said as she laughed. "What about fish? Do they bite?"

"Well, they sure haven't every time I've tried fishing. Don't worry. Your dick's way too big to be mistaken for a worm."

I laughed. "Okay," I said, "then what about you? Aren't you worried one might wriggle in somewhere it shouldn't be?"

"That'd be the most action I've seen for about a year."

"Wow. What kind of college were you at? Where I went, it was nothing but action."

"At my college, screwing was more about politics and status than any real attraction. And my family isn't rich enough to have much status with those people."

"But you're so beautiful!" I blurted. "How could any guy not—"

I caught myself before saying more. Hanna looked at me with amusement.

"Sorry," I said, turning red and studying the label on my beer. "First beer I've had in weeks."

She laid back and looked at the sky. "In vino veritas," she said, smiling to herself.

For the rest of the afternoon, we lay naked side by side on the loungers, listening to the electric buzz of cicadas, the breeze in the trees, and pointing when a fish jumped in the lake.

Hanna told me more about her family and her time at college and how studying commerce was her mother's idea.

"I'm the only girl among the kids and grandkids," she said. "Mother wanted to prove women can be just as good at business as men."

"Is there any doubt about that?" I said.

"We're a modern family, but some traditions die hard. Like women belong in the home. I wanted to prove them wrong too—join a family business like my brothers and cousin. But commerce is sooooo boring! I should have switched to some other program. I didn't know what, though. Still don't. So I was a coward and kept at it. And failed. Failed my courses, failed to stand up to mother and father. Failed everyone's expectations."

I reached over and placed my hand over hers. "You're smart. Incredibly talented. I know you'll figure it out. My parents were disappointed when I quit college, too. They still hope I'll give up the trades and go back."

"Will you? If you can't get work as a welder in town anymore?"

I shook my head. "No way. If I have to leave town to find work, I will."

"You've seriously lived nowhere else?"

"Never. I went to the city college. Then the trade school."

"Wow. I've never really lived in town. Got sent off to boarding school when I was eight. Then prep school, then college. Always studying. It's nice to be here to just bask in the sun, swim, and play piano."

"Then that's what you should do," I said. "This is your place. You don't need to help me anymore. Do what makes you happy."

Hanna squeezed my hand. "Helping you is the most fun I've had in a long time. I want you to wow Grandfather by finishing everything on his list. And by helping, I'm giving back to him and my family. That makes me happy, even though they'll never know about it."

~~~~

Every time I finished a beer, Hanna leaped up to get a fresh one, though I begged her not to. By dinner time I was half in the bag. Hanna's naked body looked even more irresistible and after trading life stories for hours, I felt much closer to her.

"Dinner time!" she said when the sun touched the tops of the trees. "I'm cooking. What do you want? Another steak?"

"What do you want?" I said. "I'd like to try something Korean, if that's what you want too."

Hanna's smile melted me. She got to her feet, pecked my forehead and skipped off to the kitchen.

When I followed, she looked puzzled.

"My family's tradition is everyone helps," I said. "Can we cook together?"

We made bulgogi, and it was a process: slicing beef and Korean pear, preparing marinade, soaking rice. Hanna hummed happily as she prepared, directing me what to do.

"We should let the meat marinate longer, but screw it," Hanna said, and we carried everything to the patio grill.

She filled two shot glasses with a chilled clear alcohol.

"Uh oh," I said, sniffing it. "I thought you were never drinking again."

"This is soju. It doesn't count. I'm only having one, but we have cases of it downstairs, so drink as much as you want. This one is pomegranate flavor. I won't subject you to plain soju."

We clinked glasses and downed the shots. It was sweet and unusual, and Hanna refilled my glass immediately.