“I’m not so sure of the vintage,” she commented.I had to smile at that. “I think I’m more astonished that you got champagne through room service at a Holiday Inn.”We sipped our champagne and looked into each other’s eyes. She gave me a smile and I sat down in one of the armchairs and held my hand out to her. She settled sideways on my lap, with one arm around my neck and the other holding her flute of champagne. I kept an arm around her waist and the other on my own glass. “I debated picking anything up before coming over,” I said.“Oh?”I gave a small shrug. “I figured that the girls might notice flowers tomorrow morning, and I’m still not old enough to buy booze.”“How old are you?” she asked, surprised.“Does it matter?”It was her turn to shrug. “No, I don’t suppose it does.”I finished my glass of champagne and set the empty glass on the table to the side, and then put both hands around her waist. The silk felt very thin, and her body felt very warm and supple beneath it. “I didn’t. Be a chance for you to work the kinks out. (he wore another of those huge grins). You know shrimpers and oil men like to dance.Me: I'm just going to stay home and play with myself on Friday.Juan: What a waste. You a pretty girl, even if you be too skinny for some.Me: Hey a woman can never be too skinny.Juan: That might be true in Hollywood, but this here be the swamp. A woman needs to look healthy.Me: I'll remember that.He took me back to the cabin with no mention of retrieving the net. I suspected that Juan wanted to grill me on the upcoming dance. He was most likely the Miss Sadie of the Cord Bayou.I had been on the Swamp two months without a boat. I had fished mostly off my dock while reading spam on my mini pad. I hadn't bothered with the Satellite TV or the Truck Stop WiFi. I just bought a comprehensive wireless plan. It had no limit Internet and cell service. I could have gotten by with ten minutes of cell phone a month since only the locals knew I was living on the swamp. They.
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