Scott scrubbed up to his elbows as the soap dripped off his body in a dirty brown. He rinsed and then squirted more soap into his palms and got sudsing up again. He’d been working on the shrubbery, covering flower beds with w**d preventing plastic, and then shoveling rocks at one of the biggest shopping centers on the island. All week long.
His shoulders and back ached, and he couldn’t wait to get to his massage appointment later that day. He normally didn’t work on the weekend, but he’d needed to finish this project, and Jeff had arranged a special meeting with the director of the Historical Society here on the island, as they wanted to completely re-landscape around the Civil War Memorial, and Scott wanted that project as much as anything he’d done in his career.
It would allow him to
