Do you measure your gratitude in feet?
Steps in the right direction
I didn’t know what was appropriate to offer him. He had been such a help, but it seemed strange to offer him money, and I didn’t have a lot to spare after the move. He did seem like a guy who wouldn’t mind a beer, though, and I had some in the fridge.
“Thanks so much, Nick. I was gonna kick back with a beer and some chips after all the work. Would you like some too?”
He was standing near the door but paused and turned back.
“Actually, that would hit the spot.”
I grabbed two wheat beers and the bag of salt and vinegar chips I had on hand. “Lucky that I have a couch now,” I said, smiling. “And that nobody died getting it here.”
He laughed. “It wasn’t any trouble at all. It wasn’t heavy. You shouldn’t try to move it by yourself, though. Even with a hand pallet truck. It’s a question of balance.”
Balance. I thought about how nice he had looked lifting my heavier boxes and how balanced his frame was. He was slim but with solid arms which flexed when he lifted, and his movements were easy and unrushed. Somehow when he lifted his arms, it also drew my attention to his jeans. The stretch said, “Check out my downtown real estate.”
