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She unfolded the plastic tablecloth and, at Alex’s direction,
secured the corners with paperweights he had somehow thought
to bring.
“What next? Do you want me to put everything else on the table?”
“We’ve got a few minutes. And I don’t know about you, but I’m
ready for a beer,” he said. Reaching into the cooler, he pulled out a
bottle. “You?”
“I’ll take a soda,” she said.
“Diet Coke?” he asked, reaching back in.
“Great.”
When he passed the can to her, his hand brushed against hers,
though she wasn’t sure he even noticed.
He motioned to the chairs. “Would you like to sit?”
She hesitated before taking a seat next to him. When he’d set them
up, he’d left enough distance between them so that they wouldn’t
accidentally touch. Alex twisted the cap from his beer and took a
pull. “There’s nothing better than a cold beer on a hot day at the
beach.”
She smiled, slightly disconcerted at being alone with him. “I’ll
take your word for it.”
“You don’t like beer?”
Her mind flashed to her father and the empty cans of Pabst Blue
Ribbon that usually littered the floor next to the recliner where he
sat. “Not too much,” she admitted.
“Just wine, huh?”
It took her a moment to remember that he’d given her a bottle. “I
had some wine last night, as a matter of fact. With my neighbor.”