2015م - 1444هـ
The Choice



Tell me again why I agreed to help you with this.” Matt, red-faced and grunting, continued to push the

spa toward the recently cut square at the far edge of the deck. His feet slipped, and he could feel sweat

pouring from his forehead into the corners of his eyes, making them sting. It was hot, way too hot for

early May. Too damn hot for this, that’s for sure. Even Travis’s dog, Moby, was hiding in the shade and

panting, his tongue hanging out.

Travis Parker, who was pushing the massive box alongside him, managed to shrug. “Because you

thought it would be fun,” he said. He lowered his shoulder and shoved; the spa-which must have

weighed four hundred pounds-moved another couple of inches. At this rate, the spa should be in place,

oh . . . sometime next week.

“This is ridiculous,” Matt said, heaving his weight into the box, thinking that what they really needed

was a team of mules. His back was killing him. For a moment, he visualized his ears blowing off the sides

of his head from the strain, shooting in both directions like the bottle rockets he and Travis used to

launch as kids.