The Girl from the Ouachita Ch. 10

"Now, climb in this ditch with me and help me get these pipes connected and secured. We've got a lot to do and not much time to do it in!"

They worked straight through to dark, and got more done than Chris could believe. For all his zany personality traits, Frank was a genius on a construction site, and he made several adjustments to Chris' plans that speeded things up, while improving the worthiness.

Chris had been impressed with Pancho since he first worked with him, but now he understood why the other electricians, plumbers, and foundation crews deferred to him.

The emerging darkness and the delivery of their beers coincided perfectly. For once, the girls were talked out, so they sat on the loungers and drank the first one in companionable silence. Sally sniffed the air and suggested they might benefit from a shower, so they pushed themselves out of their chairs and up the stairs.

Twenty minutes later they returned, fresh beers in hand, and Chris asked, "What's for supper? The kitchen smells amazing!"

"That would be Sally's world famous smothered steak, rice, broccoli, and, if you promise to be good boys tonight, Jo's world famous chocolate chip cookies," Sally answered with a big grin.

"Damn! Beautiful, that good in bed, brings me beer, knows a thousand dirty jokes, and can cook? Would y'all be opposed to a double wedding?" Pancho asked enthusiastically.

"Slow down, there, cowboy! All I know about you is that you ain't half bad in the bedroom, you're fairly funny, and you're willing to work. Let's try dating a couple of times before we set the date."

"Why waste time? I already know you're in love with me, you're hot, and you can cook -- times-a-wasting!" Frank countered.

Sally got up and climbed into his lap. "Might want to see if you survive tonight before you buy the ring; I've been taking it easy on ya 'til now!"

The supper was a good as the brags said it would be, and Pancho made it downstairs the next morning in relatively sound condition. Chris had brewed the coffee, had the biscuits in the oven, the sausage sizzling, and a bowl of scrambled eggs sitting beside the stove ready to cook.

When the sausage was ready he poured the eggs in a skillet with melted butter and sent Pancho to get the girls. He walked to the stairs and bellowed, "Breakfast is ready! Get your cute little butts out of bed and into the kitchen! Clothing is optional, though -- feel free to come as you are!"

It took a few minutes, so the plates were being filled when Chris saw the two girls, wrapped in short robes, wearing slippers, and walking rather gingerly down the stairs and to the kitchen. He let them get seated, and then asked, "So, it looks like ol' Pancho survived your best efforts, but you look a bit worse for the wear this morning, Sal. What happened?"

Pancho had a satisfied little smile playing around his mouth as he waited for Sally's answer. She looked at the grinning boys, sighed, straightened her shoulders, and said, "I don't often admit defeat, but I'll admit he won that round. I'm hitting the gym with Jo this week and from now on; my conditioning and stamina need to be improved!"

Chris chuckled and fist bumped Pancho, who got up, moved around the table to stand behind Sally, and kissed her on the head. "Best I've ever had, bar none, Sugar. And I'm still ready to set the date."

Sally leaned her head back against his hard belly and replied, "You have to ask my Daddy and my four big brothers first. If you survive that, I'll consider."

Jo had been watching with a smile; she beckoned her fiancé, who came to stand behind her. "We're going to forbid you two from working so hard and also working out so much! You're too hard on delicate flowers like us."

Chris leaned over her head and kissed her upside down. "What happened to the cocky chick who told me I was too old to keep up?"

"She's learned her lesson; you're old, but wise in the ways of love." Jo answered contritely, with a happy grin.

****

The priest at Trinity Episcopal wanted to negotiate before he would agree to officiate at an "outlaw gathering" like they proposed. He would do it, he said with a grin, but only if Jo would agree to join the choir... when they were able to have a choir again. After all, he would most likely be violating some kind of government order to do it, so he needed something for the church in return. He said all that with a big smile.

She readily agreed, happy that she was being forced to do what she secretly wanted to do, so she wouldn't have to worry about whether she should do it.

Then he hit her with demand number two: "My second condition is that you sing How Great Thou Art after you join your husband in the gazebo, but before I lead you in the vows. You can practice online with our choir director if you want, but, believe me - and her - you blew us away when you sang it in church. You might have noticed that you were one of only a few singing after the first verse; the rest of us were listening to you."

That turned her red and scared. She tried to demur, but Chris leaned down, kissed her on the cheek, and pleaded, "Please, Honey. That would make me so happy and proud, and make our wedding unique! The first public solo by my beautiful and extraordinarily talented wife -- that would be absolutely unforgettable!"

She was scared, but she had two months to practice and that seemed far in the future, so she agreed. That decision would haunt her right up to the first bars of the hymn.

The priest handed them a guide he had created full of questions they hadn't discussed: When do you want to have the rehearsal? Who will walk the bride down the aisle? What wedding march do you want? Which songs do you want? How many in each wedding party? Will there be enough room on the gazebo? Are you writing your own vows, or traditional vows? If traditional, which set? Are they having a rehearsal dinner? Should he plan to stay? Should he stay for the reception? Lead prayers over meals?

There were a few dozen other questions that had their heads swimming while they drove home. "Mom might have been right," Chris admitted. "There are lots of details!"

Jo had been quiet until then. "Chris, what about my momma? I know she can't come because she's in prison, but is there any way we can involve her? She still trying so hard -- I hate to leave her out completely!"

"I agree that she should be included; let's find out what our options are, if any, and go from there. Want me to talk to our attorney, or would you like to?"

"Let me do it," she replied. "I'll be the one telling her about the wedding at some point, and I'll have to tell her she can't be involved if it comes to that."

Tuesday was a big day if their hopes were to be realized. Crews reported to the house at 7:30 to expedite the work there, and two vans delivered crews to the lake house to get that project rolling. The necessary equipment had been trucked to the lake Monday, so they had been introduced to the plans and were hard at work by 8:30 am.

Chris knew he needed to talk to Jo about their honeymoon, but he wanted to take her out to the lake, let her see the skeleton of what would be, and discuss his proposal in that setting.

Lake Whitney was certainly not one of the places they had discussed -- the Bahamas, Costa Rica, Cabo San Lucas, or Hawaii -- but by mid-summer they might not be able to visit any of those places, or even an exotic mountain or beach setting stateside. Covid was already a straight-running bitch, and getting bitchier.

Chris began each day at his house getting the crews lined out, then moved to Amon G. Carter Stadium to trouble shoot and direct the finishing efforts, which, as with all construction projects, were fraught with small issues and details that needed direction as the final touches were applied. He worked 9-4 at The Carter until four on Monday and Friday, but moved to the lake project at noon on Tuesday and Thursday, seldom arriving home before six.

Wednesday morning was spent in the office as the 'management trainee', and at whichever site most needed his attention in the afternoon.

Jo had supper ready when he got home. They ate, cleaned the kitchen, and then worked out in a corner of the barn for an hour before showering. Jo had done her classwork during the day but Chris still had his to do, so he was usually up until 10 working on the computer on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday.

Masking and social distancing at the worksites seemed to be working decently, but workmen were still catching the virus in other settings, which impacted work crews and projects. The larger impact, however, was from supply chain failure. Even when goods made it off ships, onto docks, and into warehouses, transportation problems often left them languishing.

Over the years, manufacturing in the US had been moving overseas to countries with cheap labor. The explanation was that movement "was good for everyone" because Americans shouldn't be languishing in low paying jobs; they should be getting additional education and training in the tech sector or other sectors "with a future."

That maxim was being disproven as the fragile state of the "global economy" was exposed. The American healthcare system was also "exposed" in another way -- the medical care providers became heroes for their bravery and dedication, but the "just in time" procurement system that was largely dependent on foreign providers faltered and failed. Fortunately, many American companies retooled and stepped up to provide critical supplies, but the nightly news featured horror stories of crowded hospitals with overburdened workers who lacked critical supplies.

Finger pointing and accusations of incompetence and malfeasance characterized politics at the federal and state levels, while local governments struggled to deal with growing public health and subsistence needs concurrent with angry resistance to masking, social distancing, and orders prohibiting gatherings.

On May 18, the mayor of Fort Worth, updated the Emergency Declaration of March 19 to prohibit gatherings of over 50 people at a single site, with a number of exceptions, and limited the occupancy of larger sites, like special events centers and places of worship, to 50% of occupancy. The declaration also permitted the imposition of quarantines and limiting ingress and egress to the city.

Chris had not encountered any effort to limit ingress or egress to/from Fort Worth on his trips to Lake Whitney, and he sincerely doubted that would work anyway, what with all the commuters coming in from every direction. He read the limitation of "50% occupancy" to mean as long as he had twice as many chairs as he had people in his backyard, and the rows were six feet apart and segmented to allow couples and/or families to sit together, they would be in compliance. No doubt, they would need to bring people in vans because that number of cars would surely draw too much attention, but Beck had plenty if Trey would allow their use -- and he was sure he would.

Under the order, they could possibly move the wedding into the church as long as they didn't exceed 50% occupancy, but he and Jo were now committed to the back yard. Besides, he asked himself, who knows if another declaration update would ban congregating in churches, period, as some cities had done.

The scarier the situation got, the more drastic the measures considered and implemented by the various governmental entities, so they stayed the course as they moved through mid-May and toward Memorial Day.

Classes were over for Jo, but not for Chris, who had a summer semester to complete before receiving his masters. He was running himself ragged trying to make everything come together on time, and his supervising prof announced he was flying in to see him in action at the stadium project. When he announced he would be staying for two days, Chris said 'fuckit' and decided he would follow his usual schedule at the house, the stadium, and the lake house -- his projects couldn't afford two days at the stadium only! Besides, if he really wanted to see him in action, he could stay with them and ride along.

He called Dr. Lawry and told him not to get a room or a car; he'd be staying and riding with him. Dr. Lawry informed him that Dean Speck was coming along, to which Chris replied, the more the merrier. And then he hurried to inform Jo.

She panicked at the condition of the house, which was clean but not immaculate, and at the lack of suitable groceries to make meals for the guests. Chris laughed and told her to hire someone to help her clean, and to buy whatever groceries she wanted that the store weren't out of. He didn't have time to be much help, so that part was on her.

They arrived on Monday afternoon; Jo picked them up and took them to the stadium, where she escorted them to Chris and Bob. Jo got her normal dose of friendly catcalls, and waved at her fans as she normally did. She gave Chris her normal on-tiptoes kiss in her short sundress, and Bob teased her about the work interruption she always caused when she sashayed in.

It was business as usual, as was the congregation of workers -- scattered across the north end zone and sort-of socially distanced -- to debrief, get feedback, and clarify tomorrow's projects.

Dean Speck smiled and enjoyed the comradery; Dr. Lawry remained aloof.

Dean Speck rode home with Jo, Dr. Lawry with Chris. Speck asked about their upcoming wedding and carried on a personal conversation with Jo; Lawry grilled Chris straight off the template for internships. That was silly, given that Chris was actually ramrodding the projects rather than interning at them, but Lawry was an old school, by-the-book prof.

His demeanor began to change when he got to the house, saw the before pictures, and discovered that Chris had bought a wreck and turned it into this showplace. He warmed still more when he saw the nearly completed improvements to the back yard and learned their purposes.

Jo served an excellent meatloaf with vegetables and fresh fruit, and they insisted on a room by room tour of the house with explanation of the improvements done, how they were accomplished without damage to the original walls and trim, and the genesis of the plans that got this result.

By the time they all came back down from the third floor to the living area, Lawry was laughing and talking as genially as Speck.

Chris said his goodbyes and retired to his office to complete his classwork; Jo answered questions and charmed them for another hour, then showed them to their respective rooms. They heard Chris go to his bedroom around 10, just before they drifted off to sleep after a full day of travel.

****

Jo had breakfast ready at 6:30, and the crews arrived at seven. Chris introduced the guests around, conferred with Pancho and then went over the day's assignments with the workers. Everyone attacked their assignments, but the convivial working relationships were obvious in the banter and the cheerful deportment of the diverse group while they worked.

At nine, they returned to the stadium, where the work was well underway. Chris went over today and tomorrow's plans with Bob, who then spent the next hours doing quality control checks around the site, while shadowed by the dean and professor. Everything was copacetic, as he was certain it would be.

As usual, from time to time the men and women doing the work stopped him to suggest ways to make the final product or their work more effective or efficient, with an improved result. He discussed the idea with the crew, immediately approved implementation of those that made sense with the completion date nearing, made notes in his planning book about those meant for future endeavors, and acknowledged the originator(s) orally and in writing.

The dean merely chuckled when Lawry prompted Chris about the feedback; Dean Speck had read his application essay and heard much about him from his bosses, including the owner.

"Dr. Lawry, I'm an avid devotee of W. E. Deming. Having the people doing the work constantly considering ways we can do the work more efficiently, effectively, and with a better result makes sense to me. I know from being on the other end of the hammer, shovel, or front loader that there are often better ways than the common or prescribed way.

"Mr. Beck offers cash rewards and higher pay to those who bring such ways to our attention, but, honestly, while everyone appreciates the extrinsic reward of money, the intrinsic reward of seeing your idea implemented means just as much to most of us."

At 12:30 Chris told his assistant he'd see them tomorrow, gathered his gear, and told Speck and Lawry, "Come on; we have another project to visit. I'm going to pick Jo up; she has our lunches packed and we'll eat out there."

"Is this a part of your normal weekly schedule, Chris?" asked Lawry as they neared the site, which was nearly an hour away.

"Yes, Sir. This is a lake house Beck is constructing for my father. It's part of my assignment, along with the projects at the house and stadium. It's on a rushed timeline; it has to be completed by July 19.

"Jo, will you please show them some pictures of the last time we were here, during the winter? I think they will be impressed with what has been accomplished in a few months."

"I will, Chris, if you will explain why July 19 is the magical date by which it has to be completed." The clipped phrasing and tone of Jo's voice exposed her suspicion as she eyed him from the passenger seat.

"Well, Honey," he answered, while keeping his eyes on the road. "With international travel being so difficult already, and perhaps being prohibited by mid-July, Dad and I decided a brand new house, dock, boathouse filled with boats and jets skis, situated on a beautiful lake, might be a suitable site for a honeymoon, 2020 style. What do you think?"

Her beaming smile betrayed her words. "And when were you planning to share this information with the bride-to-be?"

"When the building was far enough along to make her believe it was possible. She's the only other family member who knows about it and we need her advice and counsel to begin finishing and furnishing it. That's going to be soon, so today seemed like a good day to let her see it.

"Besides, the bride-to-be failed to consult with the groom-to-be on many, many elements of the wedding planning, so he kept a small surprise for her too!"

Jo quickly thumbed through her photos, handed her phone to the dean, and slid over beside her fiancé. "If you weren't driving I'd tickle you for being so devious! I've been going crazy worrying about what I might need to take on our honeymoon!"

"Don't you worry your pretty little head, Honey - the less, the better," he replied quietly with a smirk. They heard chuckling from the back seat, and the usually staid Dr. Lawry said, "You two... You make me want to fly home to Mona tonight!"

Jo snuggled under his arm, draped it over her shoulder, and whispered in his ear, "So we get a brand new place to break in?" "A five bedroom house, a dock, and a boathouse, plus two boats, not to mention all that lawn area and the swimming cove. You're gonna be a busy girl!" he whispered back.

"Oh, that's so much better than a grass hut somewhere! I love it!" she said in a normal voice. More chuckles from the back seat; "You do know we can hear your whispering..."

****

They crested the hill just after two and parked in the cleared area with the vans. The piers for the dock and boathouse had been poured at the same time as the foundation of the house, the carport, the sidewalks, and the outdoor kitchen. The walls were framed and the roofs erected on the house, carport, outdoor kitchen, and boathouse. The dock was completed and ready for fishermen and boats.

Sheets of insulation were stacked, waiting for the teams of electricians and plumbers under Pancho's directions to finish their work, which would happen tomorrow. Pallets of native stone for the exterior fascia of the house and the patio sat awaiting Roberto's crew on Thursday.