An hour later, Craig held the blue spruce upright as Derek Hopper shoveled dirt into the hole around its roots, which were now loosened from their burlap bindings. He glanced at his watch—just after five o'clock, right on time.
Craig watched as the larger man, dark-skinned with dark hair and eyes, worked soil up to the top of the hole, stomped it down, and piled the excess up higher. As Derek finished, Craig released the tree and moved to gather their tools.
"Another good day's work," Derek declared cheerfully as he tamped down the last of the dirt. "And just in time, too." He peered up into the misty rain that had resumed moments ago. "Doesn't look like you're going to get your game in tonight."
"Hard to say," Craig replied, scanning the increasingly gray sky himself. "We're on one of the fields you and I fixed up. It can take a little rain."
He received Derek's shovel and stowed it with his own in the trailer hitched to Derek's pickup. Derek followed behind Craig, pushing a wheelbarrow. "That reminds me," he said as he lifted the wheelbarrow and set it in the trailer upside-down. "Look what I saw on my way here this morning." He slid his phone from his pocket and pulled up a photograph. It showed a baseball field the two of them had improved earlier that spring. The infield looked healthy, its grass lush and well-trimmed. But the outfield—
"Oh, that's just great!" Craig exclaimed. Shallow trenches crisscrossed the outfield; streaks of mud showed where only green should have been.
"Motorbikes," Derek said. "Lots of tire tracks. A couple of kids out having a good time, probably."
With his hands on his hips, Craig frowned at the picture. "We can level out the tracks, but that grass won't grow back properly for a while. I suppose we could reseed it, but there's really no point, since they have games on it every night."
Derek nodded sympathetically.
"I guess I'll swing by there Saturday if the weather's good and see what I can do. Are you busy that morning?"
Surprisingly, Derek—ever the optimist—sighed. "Actually, I need to talk to you about that." He breathed deeply and looked around before continuing, as if hoping to spot reinforcements before engaging in battle. "You know how, when we started this business, we said I'd be more the muscles, for obvious reasons"—he patted one of his massive biceps—"and the plant specialist, since I studied agriculture, and you'd be more the corporate brains, since you have the business degree and all, and—"
Craig stopped him with a hand. "You're rambling. What's bothering you, buddy?"
Derek shifted uncomfortably. "So, see, Shanice and I have been going around and around about this for two weeks…"
"Oh, no," Craig groaned. "She doesn't want you to quit, does she?"
"What? No!" Derek answered. "No, she's a lot more supportive than when we started. Making enough to live on changed her mind. No, she likes us having our own business now, except…"
"Except what?" Derek was nervous, and it was making Craig nervous, too.
"Except we're coming up to summer, and she's remembering last summer, and she doesn't want it to be like that…"
"Like what?"
"She says I neglected her and the kids too much. I told her summer's when we make the most money because that's the only time it's not raining in Seattle, but she said—"
Craig interrupted him. "How many hours did you work last summer?"
"About sixty a week, according to her. Sometimes more." His expression looked as guilty as he sounded.
"That's a lot of hours when you have a family," Craig observed. "So she wants you to cut back?"
Derek nodded. "So I can be at home more for her and the kids." Head bowed, he glanced sheepishly up at the shorter man, tightly-curled hair beginning to catch drops of rain that sparkled in the cloud-dimmed light.
Craig laughed with relief. "Wow, you were starting to scare me! Of course you need to be there with Shanice and your kids. That's great—they want you at home! You actually argued with her about that?"
Derek added a grin to that sheepish look and shrugged. "Not about wanting to be home. But it's going to drop our bottom line, you know?"
"Our bottom line is fine, Derek, has been for three years. We can cut back a little this summer, it won't hurt us any. I didn't realize you were spending that much time away from your family."
"It's just that—see, you and Kara were really struggling to pay off all those bills, especially the medical bills from trying—"
"Wait a second," Craig interrupted again. "You were doing all that extra work last year so Kara and I would have enough money?"
Derek shrugged again, eyes still concerned. "I didn't want to embarrass you and ask how you guys were doing. But you know—you weren't spending a lot, Kara was still working…"
"It turns out she loves the job," Craig said. "I don't think I could make her stop. She loves to grow things." He clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder. "But we're doing fine. The only debt we have now is the house, and we're ahead of schedule on that." He felt a measure of tension leave Derek's shoulder. "We don't need the extra right now. At the worst, it'll be like winter—a little less income, but enough to get by on."
"You're sure?"
"Hey, if you were in my shoes, wouldn't you tell me to go spend more time with my kids?"
Without hesitation, Derek nodded. "Yes, I would." He reached out and wrapped Craig in a bear hug, his six-foot-four football player bulk fully engulfing Craig's own slender but solid six-foot frame. Stepping back, Derek smiled, much more at ease.
Craig glanced at his watch again. "Look, if Shanice wants you home earlier, you might as well impress her and start now. And forget Saturday—I'll take care of the ball field."
"Okay. See you tomorrow." Derek turned toward his pickup.
"And don't show up early!" Craig watched Derek climb into his truck and drive away.
*****
The Boy Who Appeared from the Rain Page 7