Somewhere along the line, I’d told Captain Bridges what we were up to and who was helping us for the summer. When his wife found out that her favorite teenagers were in town and working from dawn to dark, she started bringing food to the jobsite almost daily. That was a good thing, because they’d been picking up fast food every day for lunch. In the evening, one of us would run home, fix a quick meal, and bring it back to where the painting was underway. We canceled our June trip to the mountains and worked full-time on the houses that week instead. By the end of June, the duplex was just days away from completion, and Mike and I had started on the third house, which was a two-story duplex on Forbes Street about a mile away from the first house.
“Before we do any more work on this one, babe,” Mike said, “we need to trim the azaleas at the rest of the houses.”
“You mean not wait until the painting is done?”
“Exactly.”
“Why?”