Backstrokes by Dylan Madrid

Author:Dylan Madrid [Madrid, Dylan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781626391123
Publisher: Bold Strokes Books
Published: 2014-06-15T05:00:00+00:00

JULY

Crawford approached the makeshift lemonade stand with caution. It was adorable, like something from a Peanuts cartoon. Clearly, Isabella had put considerable effort into her latest business venture.

Strategically, the seven-year-old had set up shop directly across the street from the gothic-looking church she and Crawford passed every day on their walk to and from the swimming pool at Hillside Park.

Beneath a tall palm, Isabella—decked out in a new lemon-colored ensemble and white sandals—smiled and charmed and waved to passers-by, convincing each to buy a paper cup of her homemade brew.

Molly was nearby, engaged in what looked like an intense conversation on her cell phone.

Crawford spotted Cathy. She’d arrived in her black BMW and parked half a block from their planned meeting spot. They had lunch plans later but had mutually agreed that stopping by and supporting Isabella’s Sunday afternoon enterprise was a must.

They both reached opposite ends of the cloth-covered table, bookending Isabella who looked happy to see two customers.

“What are you doing here, lame-o?” she asked with a hand on her hip.

Crawford smiled, amused by the sight of how crooked Isabella’s pigtails were. “I came to buy some lemonade, Isabella.”

“Oh,” she said, softening. “I didn’t think you’d remember.”

“It’s all you’ve been talking about for a week,” he reminded her.

She gave him a quick glance-over and made a decision. “Then you can have some.” She lifted a plastic pitcher and filled two cups with lemonade. “Fifty cents, please.”

Crawford handed her a dollar bill and said, “Keep the change.”

“Is that a new outfit?” Cathy asked. “It’s very pretty.”

Isabella turned to her, clearly pleased by the attention. “Yes.”

“Isabella, this is my friend Cathy,” said Crawford. “We grew up together.”

Isabella rolled her eyes, her hand going back to her hip. She looked like a supermodel fed up with fame. “Why would you want to be friends with him?”

“Because he’s a really nice guy,” Cathy said. “Don’t you think so? I hear he takes you to swimming lessons every day.”

“I guess so. But he hasn’t been to a swim meet yet. And I want him to teach me how to play the piano.”

“This is the first I’ve heard anything about piano lessons,” Crawford said.

A familiar figure across the street caught his eye. Crawford didn’t expect to see Armando on the front steps of the church, but he was there in black slacks, a white dress shirt, and red tie. He was with two women, one younger and one older. Services had just ended.

“Is that…?” Cathy began.

“Yes,” said Crawford. “It is.”

“For a lifeguard, he cleans up pretty well,” she said, grinning. “You gotta love a guy who goes to church on Sundays.”

A moment later, Armando crossed the street and joined them.

“Hi, Cathy,” he said. “Hi, Molly.” She was still on the phone but she waved. He turned to Crawford. “Hey. Perfect timing, I guess.”

“I guess so.”

“Isabella, what do we have here?” Armando asked.

“Would you like some lemonade, Armando?” she asked, ever so sweetly.

I must be the only person in the entire world she’s mean to.

“I would love a glass,” he said.

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