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And it won’t get better with my next project, since that one is for Evie too. As soon as I finish at Grandma Rose’s, I’m headed to the Smith house to take it down for Evie. So, it’s not like I can escape thinking about her by moving onto the next thing. Or going home after work. Or going to work after work. Evie is everywhere.
And every construction job I’m doing is bringing her closer to leaving.
That’s the thought turning in my head as I work on framing out the window in the new primary bedroom. I’m so focused on my thoughts about Evie that when I hear gravel crunching in the driveway, my first thought is that it’s her.
Instead, I see Bear getting out of his truck with his toolbox. I wave, but before he reaches me, another truck pulls up. This time it’s Seb.
This is a problem. Seb will want to do the electric before, or worse, while Bear does the plumbing. But it makes more sense to get the plumbing done first, especially since Bear hates having Seb underfoot. This happens a lot with them if the contractor they’re working for doesn’t stay on top of scheduling MEP—mechanical, electrical, and plumbing.
The contractor in this case is Zach.
Is it awesome having an entire construction crew made up of family? Yes and no. Seb and Bear are family right up until it comes to getting a job done. They can make music together, but they can’t plumb and wire a house at the same time. At least not without killing each other. But that’s true of all the trades needed to build a house.
“What’s he doing here?” Bear and I watch Seb get out of his truck and grab his Milwaukee toolbox. It’s a lot smaller and lighter than Bear’s toolkit, something Bear is always happy to point out.
“Electric, I’d guess.” I zip my coat to the top and pull my gloves tighter. There’s a chill coming off Bear colder than an Arctic wind.
Seb waves, then makes his way to us. “We’re getting this done at the same time, Bear. You know how it works when we’re behind schedule.”
“No, it doesn’t work. You can wait till I’m done.” Bear picks up his toolkit and walks toward the kitchen area. That’s where he always starts.
Seb hustles to catch up with him. “Dude, Adam’s crew wasn’t finished framing last week, and Zach told me I could start this week. I turned down another job this week to do this one.”
“That’s not my fault,” I say as Seb passes me, and I follow him. “I had guys who didn’t show up last week. I pushed hard to get everything done yesterday.”
“A schedule is a schedule, and Zach’s got me on it for this week,” Bear growls.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Evie coming around the cottage next door. I want to get this disagreement wrapped up fast before she witnesses something really ugly.
Seb grunts. “Why do you have to be so anal? You know nothing runs on time in construction.”
“Yeah,younever run on time. That’s why I’m going first,” Bear shoots back and nudges Seb out of his way.
Evie gets closer, and I block out their stupid argument. I want to look away from her so that I don’t have to watch her leave when the time comes, but I can’t. I know it will hurt, but only because I feel myself falling harder for her every day that she’s here.
And falling hard feels good.
The closer Evie gets, the surer I am about one thing: I don’t want to give her up because I’m afraid of hurting.
I’ve survived losing Dakota. I can survive saying goodbye to Evie.
And maybe, just maybe, I won’t have to say goodbye. It’s a million to one, but the possibility exists.
Evie walks to the back of the house, to the entrance that’s closest to her. Really, she could walk through anywhere since the solid walls aren’t up yet. It’s cute she thinks she has to go in through a designated opening when there’s no doors or walls keeping her out.
By the time I meet her there, Seb and Bear are loud enough to be heard all the way to Britta’s. I yell at them to cool it, but they only get louder.
“What’s happening?” Evie looks up at me from the spot a couple of feet below the door opening. There will be steps there eventually, but for now, she’ll need my help.
“A trade war that’s been going on since the invention of indoor plumbing. Or electricity. Whichever came first.” I reach my hand down to help her up.
I wish I hadn’t put on my gloves. The softness of her hand, cradled perfectly in mine, is at the forefront of my mind.
I pull her up at the same time she pushes off from the ground, which gives us too much momentum. She flies into my chest, and I wrap my arms around her waist to keep her from tumbling on top of me. In a matter of seconds, we’ve regained our balance, but I don’t let go.
“Thanks,” she breathes.
“You’re welcome.” I swallow hard. She’s so beautiful.
