Just Another Job by Casey Peterson Page B

to know what happened.”
    Chris overheard his daughter and saw her
eyes look over to him with the same worry that Sadie had shown when
he told her about the mall. He turned back to the barbecue trying
not to remember the conversation.
    Frank helped the best way he could by
shouting from the sliding door, “Flip my steak. I'm gonna kick your
ass if it burns.”
    “I'm going to kick your ass if you keep
yelling at my husband,” said Sadie.
    “Too much ass kicking for me,” said Gail,
and tried to talk to Louise more about any boys she knew.
    With the food nearly ready, Frank helped
Chris carry the dining room table to the backyard.
    “You really need a table set out here.
Because I have to tell you that I hate fucking picking this thing
up to eat outside,” said Frank.
    “Maybe,” said Chris.
    As soon as they set the table down Sadie
said, “We should go tomorrow and get some lawn furniture, Chris.
It's ridiculous having you two carry that thing out here every
time. Actually we should get a new table for the dining room while
we're at it. The legs are wobbly and about to fall off.”
    “That’s what I said,” said Frank.
    “You can totally reuse it. Upcycle you know.
I have this great tutorial I just pinned. I'll have to show it to
you after dinner,” said Gail.
    “Not more Pinterest gossip,” said Frank.
    “Stop calling it gossip. That's for
Facebook. Besides, I saw you scrolling through my pins the other
day Mr. Manly Man,” said Gail.
    “I can look where I want to look,” said
Frank, before grabbing Gail’s hands to pull her up from the chair
and into his arms. He brushed her hair back and kissed her on the
lips this time.
    “My Manly Man,” said Gail again, and then
pretended to swoon.
    Chris dashed over to the grill to pull
everything off. Sadie called for Gerry and Simone who had moved on
to a superhero video game after their imaginations wore off, but
quickly made their way to the backyard again. The two families
bustled for condiments and napkins in a routine bred from
innumerable weekends together. Stories started and stopped easily.
The food acted as the catalyst first for past get-togethers, but
soon the talking bled into each other. One conversation would spark
an idea for a second until there was a jumble of characters,
conflicts, and maybe a resolution or two.
    Chris looked over to Simone and Gerry who
were spitting images of their respective fathers in looks and
personalities, which generated a friendship on par. Once stuck
together because of their husbands, Sadie and Gail now shared a
strong give and take. Gail's relaxed outlook on most everything
infuriated Sadie at times while at other times put perspective on
her own hard, matter-of-fact philosophies. Louise was the only one
without a pair. Chris felt guilty at times that he should have
chosen a different friend that had a daughter Louise's age. Louise
had two close friends and a well-rounded circle of acquaintances
from school, but they never came to the barbecues. It was never
stated that it couldn't happen. Louise didn't ask and her parents
assumed she would if she wanted to. Gail and Sadie tried to weave
Louise into their talks, but it would coalesce only so far. They
were adults and she was learning to become one. But, God, Chris
felt wonderful staring out over the scene. He could feel his eyes
opening to their fullest to take in every movement and his ears
pricked for every bite of conversation.
    Eventually, to little surprise, the group
talk veered into Chris and Frank's work.
    “You never told me how much of a raise you
were getting,” said Sadie.
    Chris shrugged playfully. He had been toying
with Sadie over the actual numbers the whole week. A part of him
wanted to keep it secret so as to spring some surprise trip or gift
for her, but he struggled to think of anything good.
    “You haven't told her?” said Frank. “We're
making the same. You know that, right?”
    “Uh-huh,” said Chris, having not known
that.
    “Are