A sudden squall of rain pelted against the roof of the truck. It drowned out the music from the dining tent for a few seconds. He tried to remember if he'd ever had worse weather on any job. He didn't think so. He checked the mirror. The windows were fogging up but he thought he could make out a speck of light coming towards him.
Brendan drove the quad as close as he could get to the dryshack. He stood up on the pegs to allow Lucy to get off. His hands and face were numb. Lucy stood up behind him and leaned against him on the quad. She leaned her elbows against his back and held up her hands still encased in the bright orange oversize gloves. Brendan looked over his shoulder.
"Thanks for the gloves," she said. She moved her arms out of the way, leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. She moved her head back, but stayed leaning against him. Brendan looked at her. As well as the gloves, he had given her his helmet. It was mostly white and much too big for her. There was a streak of mud on her cheek and her lips were slightly blue from the cold. All the colour in her face had been drawn into her eyes.
"It's raining," he said. Lucy nodded.
He twisted sideways on the quad so his left leg was resting on the gas tank and he could look at her without twisting his neck. Lucy grabbed his arm for balance. "You're welcome," he said. He leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the lips.
She smiled. Then she swung her leg over, and stepped off the quad. She walked into the dryshack still wearing the helmet and gloves.
Brendan sat down on the quad and squinted up into the rain. "I am a fucking idiot," he said.
Then he got off the quad and walked into the dining tent.
Joe waited until he was inside then he opened the door of the truck and followed.
Inside the dining tent, Brendan opened his office box and took out a bottle of single malt scotch whiskey. He poured some into a plastic mug and walked over to the airtight stove with the bottle and the mug. One of the planters made room for him on the bench nearest the stove.
"Thanks."
Joe came up to him. Someone scooted over on the next bench and Joe sat down. He held out an empty mug.
"Any chance I can get some of that?" he asked.
"Sure."
"Hey, it's the good stuff!"
"Nothing but the best," said Brendan. "I may be underdressed, but at least I've got high class booze."
"That you do."
"Just need to warm up a bit. Then I'll put something dry on."
"No worries."
Jon Spenser Blues Explosion was playing on the ghetto blaster. A group of five planters including Matt and Kathy danced in front of the lunch table.
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