I do a last walk-through, checking the details of every bit of my work. Floors, walls, ceilings, kitchen, bathrooms . . . yes, both full bathrooms and the half last night, as my back and arms remind me. The gleaming chrome and steel fixtures are all watertight and won’t crack this side of a meteor strike. I made sure of it.
I step outside, looking at the porch with its big support posts and painted deck. Once the exterior crew is done, it’s going to be a whole new house, nearly perfect. It just needs a finishing touch, and I know just the thing.
“She was right,” I say, my exhaustion not disappearing but at least feeling justified as I look at the house. All this place needs is a fresh start. She saw its potential long before anyone else did. She felt it in her heart, knew how beautiful it could be, filling in all its defects, fixing its cracks, and ending with something greater than the sum of its parts. I think somehow, she did the same to me without my even realizing it. While I’ve been busy completing jobs on a list, just a regular old Mr. Fix-It, not looking at the big picture, she saw me. My brokenness. And while it wasn’t joint compound and a coat of paint, she fixed me. With her laughter, her joyful approach to life, her lightness . . . she fixed me. That thought settles into my bones, my heart, and I know it’s true. She might not have meant to, and I certainly didn’t mean to let her, but she’s done what I thought no one would ever do. She’s made me want to love again, to dream and to hope that there is someone for me, after all.
With a snap of my fingers, I know what I need to do now. I head through the house, determined to be at Home Depot as soon as they open, but before I can get to my truck, a familiar silver-gray Lexus pulls around and Oliver gets out, dressed for work. “Whoo, if I didn’t see it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t believe it,” he says, checking out the house. “I have to ask, though—what the hell are you doing here so early?”
“Just wanted to get the insides finished up,” I reply, coming over. I stop a few feet away, smirking tiredly. “I’d offer to shake your hand, but I don’t think your expensive suit needs my funky ass anywhere near it.”
Oliver chuckles, nodding in appreciation. “Okay. Well, can you show me the inside? I was hoping to get some photos up soon and get it listed. Didn’t expect it’d be this fast though.”
I nod, a sudden flash of inspiration going through my head. “Of course.”
We go inside, and Oliver looks through room after room in wonder. “Remember when I said that if I didn’t have my place I’d think of a place like this?” he says when we reach the master bedroom. “Check that. This place—I love it.”
“It’s a hell of a home,” I agree.
He turns and gives me a curious look. “You gonna tell me what’s going on, or do I have to keep playing the coy guessing game?”
I wince, rubbing at the back of my neck. “Mindy told you, huh?”
“Well, Martha told me first,” Oliver replies. “She was upstairs and heard Cassie through the window. She got to watch the worst of it. Apparently, there was quite the show.”
“Very funny,” I reply. I take a deep breath and tell Oliver the truth about what’s been going on between me and Cassie. After I get to yesterday’s incident, he whistles. “Yeah, so that’s all it is, man. I just need to talk to her to clear things up. Have you seen her?”
“She’ll be in the office later today,” Oliver says. “Maybe you can talk to her when you come by to pick up your payment on the properties I’ve had you running around on?”
“Actually, I had another idea,” I say, deciding to hell with it—I gotta jump in with both feet. “How would you like to save some money, get another property you can use for rent, and help me out?”
Oliver has a twinkle in his eye. Maybe he’ll go for it. “I’m listening. What do you have in mind?”Cassie
“Good morning,” I hear, rolling over on the big, fluffy sofa. I stayed at Mindy’s house last night after being unable to even think of going back to work after seeing Caleb with Sportscar Blondie. Instead, I spent the day driving in circles, and I even took a walk through the park, which ended up making me ugly cry at the memories of my runs with Caleb through there. When a lady dug in her purse and offered me a crushed up tissue, I figured I’d had enough and tapped out. I sent Martha a quick text, telling her I was taking a personal day, and fled the park before I lost total control.
I was at least able to get control of myself in my car, taking deep breaths and listening to Roxy serenade me from my stereo. Thank God the girl sings more than love songs. When I was finally able to breathe without the intense need to hitch my breath and start sobbing again, I called Mindy from
