I poured a cup as I re-examined the job. “I picked up pet-proof screen. Your cat shouldn’t be tearing into it since its nylon, not metal mesh,” I told her.
“Oh, really? That’s such a great idea.”
“This way, your husband won’t have anything to fuss about.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, he’ll just find something else to complain about. Sometimes I think he just looks for excuses to bitch at me.”
“”Sorry to hear that, but this is one less thing, anyway.”
She smiled broadly and I went about taking each individual screen down and carefully replacing it with the nylon mesh. Erica sat watching and talking amiably about most anything, from music to news events to TV shows.
Whenever I’d look up at her, she sat with her smooth tanned legs crossed smiling down at me. More than once I thought of crawling between those legs and sniffing, but why would a woman like her get involved with a lowly handy man.
There were ten screens in all, plus the one on the door. By the time I got to the last one, it was after Three and Erica announced, “It’s cocktail time! What’ll you have, Harry?”
During my handy man time, I’d been offered coffee, water, or Gatorade but never a drink. And since my plans for the day were already shot, I figured why not? “Whatever you’re having,” I replied.
“Really? Okay, two Martinis coming up!”
She was up in a flash and began scooping ice and pouring booze while she chilled glasses. I got the last screen in place when she walked out with a tray, two glasses, a shaker, and a bowlful of stuffed olives with toothpicks. She placed the tray on the table between two wicker chairs and smiled, waiting for me to finish up.
“Do you mind if I wash my hands?” I asked, and she directed me to the hall bathroom. When I came out, she had poured for both of us.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I couldn’t wait any longer.” She held up her glass with a devilish smile.
“Not at all,” I answered, sitting across from her and lifting my glass to her. “Thanks.”
“Thank you, Harry. The screens look great.”
“My pleasure,” I replied as I sipped the chilled cocktail. It had more of a kick than I expected and my eyes must have shown it because Erica laughed.
“I know, I’ve been told I have a heavy hand. That’s why I always have plenty of olives, to offset the booze!” She laughed that deep sexy laugh again.
We talked some more, about anything, when she asked, “I don’t even know, Harry, are you married?”
When I shook my head, she asked, “Serious with anyone?” Again, I shook my head and she seemed to sadden. “Sometimes I wonder how things would have turned out if I hadn’t married. I mean, I love my daughter. She’s in college now. But, I wonder what my life would’ve been like, you know?”
She seemed to sincerely want to know if I agreed, so I did, and she went on.
“But you’re still young enough to find someone and start a family, so you have time to sow those wild oats.”
I chuckled. “There’s not many girls interested in a handy man, that’s for sure.”
Her hand came across and rested on my knee. “The job doesn’t define the man, Harry, remember that.”