The armoire was a large six foot beast made of solid oak; while Rick and Lance had no trouble lifting and carrying the two hundred pound plus piece of furniture, getting the item passed the front door proved to be a bit of a problem.
“It’s too big to bring it in width wise,” Lance stating as he was backing up while Rick was holding on the bottom end.
“Then we flip it ninety degrees and bring it in length wise;” Rick grumbling; “mind the doors. We don’t want them to swing open.”
“I can help with that,” Lila speaking up as the two men juggle the cabinet. Holding the doors as Lance slowly enters, passing the front door; Lila soon has to stop as her younger brother also reaches the threshold.
“Now for the tight hallway corner,” Lance speaking as he reaches it; “Lets stand it up rotate it around the corner and lift it on its side.”
“Then we do the same when we hit the master bedroom,” Rick seeing the issue; “at least the hallway is wide enough to carry the armoire width wise.”
“But we still have to rotate it and bring it through like we did at the front door,” Lance states.
Rick just grumbles as he once again lifts the furniture up again; the thought of having to put it down and then pick it up was making him crave a beer. ‘I hope Lance has a few cold ones in his fridge,’ Rick thinks.
“Almost there,” Lance states as they reach the master bed.
“I guess I’m glad this is a one floor bungalow you have Lance,” Rick groaning; “I wouldn’t want to haul this beast up a flight of stairs.”
“Wait a year or two brother,” Lila grinning; “kids will require a bigger house.”
“When that happens,” Rick looking ashen; “hire a moving company. I don’t think my back could handle this heavy antique.”
After getting the armoire into the bedroom; the rest of Lila’s belongings didn’t take long to bring in. Rick feeling beat; despite being a were-tiger just sat on a chair in kitchen. Lance coming in soon after puts down a bottle of fifty year old scotch whiskey and a few crystal tumblers.
“Sorry no beer,” Lance states; “all I got is this six hundred dollar bottle of Glenfiddich whiskey.”
“Dam,” Rick looking at the seven hundred fifty millilitre bottle; “where did you get this?”
“From a colleague,” Lance answers; “when I have to go to Vancouver in British Columbia Canada on business, I usually pick up a case of Molson Canadian or Steam Whistle beer on my way back. But several months ago I got this for a birthday present from a journalist. I was going hand this over to my brother Benton,” Lance examining the bottle; “but then I though, to hell with him. Let him get his own expensive Scotch Whiskey.”
“Well at least you got taste,” Rick opening the bottle; “rather have a beer, but I guess this will do.”
Pouring the whiskey in the tumblers; rick takes a sip and feels the liquor tickle his throat as he swallows.
“Smooth,” Rick coughs; “very smooth.”
“Yech,” Lila sampling a dram; “tastes like wood.”
“Well it was aged in an oak barrel for fifty years,” Rick enjoying the earthy taste and smell.
Lila just ignores her brother and grabs a can of cola. Pouring the cola into the whiskey; Lila takes a big sip while Lance and Rick look horrified.
“Rare whiskey like this sis,” Rick looking shocked; “should never be diluted with soda.”
“When it tastes like dirt,” Lila sticking her tongue out; “it gets cut with soda.”
“I better put this away then,” Lance sighing; “liquor and were’s don’t exactly mix well after more than a drink.”
While were’s had a hardy constitution when it came to consuming most foods and beverages. Alcohol was the one substance that affected were’s more adversely then normal people. Since were’s had to maintain their secret lest they lose control due to intoxication; most either choose to abstain completely or limit themselves to a single drink on special occasions or buying the odd case of light beer.
“Sensible,” Rick finishing his glass; “but I just might have to come over more often. At least until the bottle is empty.”
“Take it then,” Lance handing the bottle of whiskey to Rick; “It’s not as if I can’t afford another one, if I was so inclined to buy one.”
Really? Thanks,” Rick picking up the bottle.
“Does this mean your opinion of me has improved,” Lance asking.
“Well the jury is still out on that,” Rick answers; “but I did mean what I said earlier. Harm my sister and I will beat the shit out of you.”
“Rick,” Lila shouting; “Lance is not a brute. He is not like his brother Benton.”
“So you keep telling me,” Rick responds as he heads to the front door; “But you said it yourself. I got burned from the Knight’s in past auto repair jobs. It hard for me to change my impression of the family. Lance here will just have to suck it up for the time being.”
Before Lila and Lance could answer; Rick is already in his truck and quickly backing out of the driveway. Watching him drive off, Lance closes the door and looks at Lila.
“Your brother doesn’t like me much.”
“Give him time,” Lila sighs; “he is a bit overprotective, what with my last boyfriend.”
“Want to talk about it,” Lance offering Lila a metaphorical sounding board.
“No, bad memories;” Lila looking sullen. Looking at Lance and slowly approaching him, “Right now I want to make some pleasant memories with you. Starting in bedroom.”
Lance smiles as he embraces Lila, ”oh I think I can oblige there.”