El Rancho del Corazón
PART III: Home on the Ranch
25 Delivery
I WAS NOT ALLOWED out of bed on Sunday until each of my lovers in the casa had time to be with me in the middle of the wedding cake bed. No, I didn’t screw each of them. Couldn’t possibly. But each one got some custom loving and we took as long as necessary.
Not trying to crowd all fifteen of us into the same shower at the same time made cleaning up easier except that there were close to thirty dirty towels when we were finished. We were going to need to run all three of those washing machines that would be delivered Monday every day. I guess maybe Rhiannon had figured that out. When I went down to the laundry/utility room, I counted out five connections for washers and dryers. What’s another $1500?
About ten o’clock Monday morning, a delivery truck arrived and pulled up to the bunkhouse. The guy knocked on Rhiannon’s door and Hannah’s mom answered. She had come up from French Lick Sunday just in time to see Sarah before she went back to Chicago. She was on mom duty with Mrs. Owens this week.
“Where do you want the appliances?” the driver asked. Hannah and I saw the truck pull in and headed for the house as her mom was trying to explain that she didn’t know about appliances.
“I got this, Mom,” Hannah said. “You’ve pulled up to the wrong place,” she said to the driver. “Back it up to our delivery door over there.” She pointed to the door that entered in a hallway between stalls three and four. There was a third larger door in the back, but we weren’t using it at the moment. We just didn’t want the delivery guys tracking all the way across our new floors from the front door. We had butcher paper taped down on all the major traffic routes through the house.
Hannah and I had gone through a ton of options for appliances. We liked ranges from one company and refrigerators from another, but then our kitchen wouldn’t look coordinated. On camera, it had to look like it was all the same. I finally listed the specifications that I felt we needed for the various appliances and then Hannah took them in with her to meet with Harvey during their meeting a few weeks ago. He’d helped with negotiations and I really didn’t know what we were going to get. I knew that Rhiannon had designed the kitchen cabinetry specifically for the appliances, so they would be coordinated.
The truck backed up to the barn. The driver was none too happy. He had another burly guy with him to unload things. They looked over toward the fenced in rubble of the burnt-out house.
“Your house burned down,” he said, stating the obvious. “We can’t just leave these appliances in a barn. We were told they were being installed in a state-of-the-art kitchen.”
“They are,” Hannah said. “Just unload them through here.”
“No way,” the driver barked. “I can’t deliver $30,000 worth of appliances to a barn full of kids.” As soon as Hannah had opened the door, people started coming out to see if they could help.
“Mr. Thornton!” Hannah shouted. Our instructor/foreman was watching from not far away. He fought to keep a straight face for a minute and then approached.
“I’m right here, Miss Gordon.”
“This delivery person is refusing to discharge his cargo to a bunch of kids in a barn. It appears he knows more about our business than we do. As an adult and our general contractor, would you please accept delivery of the appliances?” she asked sweetly.
“You work for the manufacturer?” Arnie asked the driver.
“No. We’re a shipping company.”
“Do you have a cargo shipped to this address?”
“Yes, but…”
“What’s the problem?”
“It’s… This is… We need someone responsible.”
“Let’s see your delivery instructions. Who’s it to?” Arnie asked. The driver held out his clipboard.
“Hearthstone Entertainment, LLC,” the driver said smugly. “No mention of an empty barn.”
“Business license, Miss Gordon?” Hannah leafed through her own ever-present clipboard and pulled out the certificate. She handed it to Arnie. He showed it to the driver. “Seems like you have the right place. Unload.”
“I need a manager to sign for it.” Hannah raised her hand and wiggled her fingers at him.
“I’ll sign after we check-off the bill of lading and inspect the cargo,” she said. “Unload.” The driver looked around. His burly partner had already unlocked the delivery truck door and slid it up. He dropped the ramp.
“I can’t move this stuff by myself,” he yelled at the driver.
We watched them unload everything. And watched as the delivery guys’ mouths dropped open when they saw the kitchen. Our electrician was directing four assistants in unpacking the studio lighting in the middle of the big room. Ron was by the side wall of the big room examining the stone-work we’d laid for the big fireplace. Carl, Lexi, Susan, and Pam were working with a professional carpenter to put in the new front door after the huge barn doors had been sealed shut.
The delivery guys used a hand truck to move things around motioning us away until they’d removed each box from the truck. Box after box. I started wondering what all the stuff was. Hannah held the bill of lading and she, Arnie, and Samantha walked around every box to confirm that everything was undamaged. They discovered one place where a hole was poked through a short box and Samantha snapped pictures of it with a Polaroid while it was still on their hand truck. Arnie cut the straps while the driver and his helper looked on. He opened and removed the box. They all examined the area where the box had been punctured and determined that no damage had been done to the oven it held.
Hannah checked off all the items on the bill of lading and signed it, handing the driver’s copy back to him.
“Thank you,” she said curtly. “We’ll take it from here. You can go.” The helper loaded their dolly, slid the ramp into place, and closed and locked the door while the driver was still staring at everything that was going on in the big room. He looked a little dazed. Hannah sighed. “Of course,” she said. “You’re waiting for an autograph.” She flipped back in her clipboard and removed a photo of me. Where the hell did she get that? When I looked at it I realized it was a promo shot taken at the WBBT studio. She arranged things on her clipboard and handed me a Sharpie. I looked at my smiling mug and scrawled, “Best wishes, Chef Brian” at the bottom of the picture. Hannah handed the photo to the stunned driver. “Now you can go,” she said finally. He stumbled to the cab and started the truck. In a few seconds they were gone.
As soon as they were out of sight, I turned and kissed Hannah. Somewhere in the middle of that kiss she dropped her clipboard.
We were still unboxing the appliances and moving them to their proper locations when the Sears truck pulled in. Carl warned me from the front, where he was working, so I was able to get out and direct him before he got all the way to the bunkhouse. These guys didn’t bat an eyelash when I directed them to the barn.
The cool thing about Sears was that the two guys in the truck were also installers.
“Are you expecting more deliveries or can we leave the truck here and bring in the pieces as we install them?” the driver asked.
“We’re expecting delivery of our propane tank, but they should have plenty of room to get around you,” I said. “We’re learning how to do everything in the construction. Can we have a couple people assist you?”
“Yeah. We heard this was an educational project. Looks sharp. Who are our guys?”
“Judy! Monte!” I yelled. “This is your job!”
“A girl?”
“Don’t underestimate her. Believe me, she packs a powerful wallop.” Judy was determined to advance as far in our martial arts training as she could this summer and yesterday Whitney had held a scrap of lumber for her. Judy had taken a look at the board, set herself, and then shattered it with her foot. I’d never done that!
They got the first washing machine in and unboxed and the Sears guys started explaining the process to Monte and Judy. I headed for the kitchen to join the largest crew on appliance installation. Refrigerator and freezer first since they were taking up the most space in the middle of the floor. It wasn’t as easy as just plugging them in. Hannah specified and managed to get a refrigerator that had a water dispenser and a freezer that made ice. Two water lines had to be hooked up and we put the massive units side by side. I was glad we went with the L-shaped walls for the set since the two units completely occupied the end wall.
“Propane!” Carl yelled from out front.
“I got it!” Josh called back as he, Jennifer, Sandy, and Nancy headed to the back to supervise installation and filling of our tank. We’d poured a concrete pad for the huge tank with anchors according to the company’s specification. The only thing that ran on propane was the stove. We shouldn’t need that much. But we were unboxing the stove next.
Holy shit.
We got the behemoth positioned and dropped into the cutout in the faux granite countertop. Six burners and a grill. Back vents that drew steam and smoke down to the vent beneath the counter. We got it in and firmly in place in time for Jennifer and the propane guy to crawl under and connect the gas to it. We opened the valves on the stove and they gave off an ominous sound halfway between a moan and a whistle until the propane made it from the tank to the burners. Everyone in the house gave a cheer when the flames lit.
For the next two days, thirty-plus people crawled through every inch of our new home, cleaning, connecting, polishing, and finishing every surface. On Wednesday afternoon, Arnie and the building inspector did a final walk-through. The inspector wanted everyone else out of the house. We walked around outside, nervously waiting for the decision. I was going crazy. I grabbed a towel from the rack next to the outdoor showers and caught up with Liz.
“Red, right now,” I said as I grabbed her hand. She turned to look at me with her eyes and mouth wide open. Then she reached to pull her shirt off.
“Right now, right here?” she laughed. She was surprised I let her finish getting her shirt off before I took her hand again.
“Right now, out there,” I chuckled, pointing to the pasture. The grass out there was thigh-high. We really needed to get the horses down here but hadn’t dared to move them with all the construction going on. We just couldn’t focus on making their environment safe, too. Liz and I ran out into the pasture nearly to the edge of the woods before I threw the towel on the ground to give us a place to lie down. I sat on it to remove my shirt and pants, but Liz stayed standing and looking back toward the house as she slowly stripped out of her jeans. “I take it people are watching,” I commented.
“And they are all envious,” Liz said. “Oh, Brian, I love it when you want me. Let’s fuck!” She collapsed on the towel next to me and kissed me as I pinched her nipples lightly.
“You’re right that I want you, Liz,” I said. “And I’ll fuck you as hard as you want. But before I do, I need to tell you something.”
“What, Brian?”
“I love you. The first time we played seven minutes in heaven at your house, I told you that you should save making love for your special one. I’m so glad it turned out that I was your special one,” I said.
“Brian, you sentimental goof. I have my legs spread and I’m wet as I can be. Put your cock in me.” I moved to do as she asked and when I’d slipped all the way into her and ground my pelvis against her clit, she sighed and hugged me tightly with both her arms and her legs. “Now tell me again about how much you love me and how I’m your special one, too,” she sighed.
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