Page 10 of One Lustful Summer
“Thanks, Ma,” I tell her, taking the burrito out of her hand and giving her a kiss on the cheek. With my breakfast in hand, I head out of the kitchen and into the open dining room and living room. “Where’s that crazy daughter of mine?” I ask loudly, waiting for the giggle that usually follows. “Oh, Jodi-bug,” I sing-song, looking around the space.
“Oh, shush your racket, boy,” dad calls from the couch as he stands up for the couch. “We ain’t got no bugs in this house!”
“No, sir-re. We don’t got no bugs,” Jodi replies, running around the couch and launching herself towards me. I crouch down and wrap her in my arms and stand up. Her little arms wrap around my neck and she leans back and smiles. “But we got cows!” Jodi hollers, and then she moos like a cow. When dad joins in, they both erupt in laughter and I can’t stop from joining as well.
“Should I start calling you Jodi-cow?” I ask her. Her giggles erupt again, and it’s music to my ears.
“No, Daddy. I’m your Jodi-bug.” She gives me a tight squeeze, and I set her back down on her feet. “What do you get when a cow jumps on a trampoline?” I lift my shoulders up and tilt my head to the side, pondering her question. She doesn’t give me long to think of an answer, her excitement taking over. “A milkshake!”
I chuckle at her joke. “That’s a good one. And a milkshake sounds good. I think that’s what we’ll have for dinnertonight. Hamburgers, fries and milkshakes. Sound good?”
“So good,” she answers while nodding.
“Okay, I’m out. Let me get one more hug and then I need to go check on some job sites.” She reaches out and I lean down to meet her. After a quick hug and a kiss on her cheek, I stand up.
“Love you, Daddy!”
“Love you, Jodi.” She runs over to the couch and puts on her shoes.
After a quick goodbye to my parents, I’m back on the road to start the day.
Both job sites were running smoothly, the deliveries arrived on time and the crews were on schedule. In this business, that was great news. I didn’t stay at either site for too long. The anticipation of my ten o’clock meeting with Maggie was my sole focus.
Pulling into her drive, I park my truck next to her black hatchback. I look over the front of the house and I can see where she has been productive. She has trimmed some of the overgrown bushes and pulled some out to give room for those left in the ground to grow and bloom larger.
I grab my bag with my electronics and designs and hop out of the truck. I debate going to the front door to knock, and then decide against it. Since it needs repair, I assume she is likely not using the inside of the house at the moment.
With my mind made up, I head around to the back addition. I notice her the minute I round the corner. She’s sitting on the back deck with her laptop open, soft music playing and an iced coffee in her hands.
“Knock, knock,” I call out to grab her attention and not startle her. But my attempt to be subtle fails and she still jumps a little in her seat. Her hand flying to her chest above her racing heart.
“Rowan,” she asks with a hint of confusion and surprise.
“Hey, I’m your ten o’clock, DuPont Construction,” I tell her as I take the step up to her.
“Oh, are you the cousin that was going to the work on the house for your grandmother? The one that built the addition?” I give her a nod, answering her questions. “Why didn’t I put this all together in my head last night? Are you okay working on this?”
“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. Let’s see what you want to do to the place.” I take a seat and pull out my tablet.
“I’m not really sure what I want to do. Do you have any suggestions?”
I answer her question and begin to show her what I have. I start with some basic plans for this style of home that are more modernized. Next, I show her the plans I had originally made for my grandmother in mind, keeping the architectural feel of this home, trying to stay to the timestamps of when everything would work for this home.
We spend the next hour and a half going over different things that she likes and things she doesn’t like. I try to incorporate it all into what her vision is. Does she want the five bedrooms upstairs? Does she want to make them four, knock down a wall, different scenarios to get the best home for her,
Once we’ve talked it through, I show her a digital version of what we have talked about. Some things that she requested or suggested were not things that I would have thought about in a plan. Different things that a feminine touch brings to designing a home.
“Oh, Rowan, this is going to be amazing.” Maggie states with enthusiasm. Her excitement bleeding into mine.
We talk about her price point, and when she expresses that she wants to do some of the work to keep cost down, I agree with the stipulation that I will help her. There are things she isn’t aware of with rebuildsand I don’t want anything to happen to her.
She reluctantly agrees, and I take it as a win. If it gives me some alone time with her, who am I to complain?
With the meeting wrapped up, we take one more walk through the main level. We exit out the front door and take a minute on the large front porch. Maggie steps down from the porch, her foot pressing down on the next step.
I’m not fast enough to tell her to warn her about the weak spot, and her foot goes right through. She falls on her butt when I try to grab her, but I’m too slow.
“Oh, ow. Well, I guess we need to fix that,” Maggie exclaims with a giggle.
