Not. At. All.
I decided to be productive and go work on Gretchen’s cabinets. But I realized that would still give me time alone to think, so I called Beau.
Sure, he’d give me shit, but at least I’d stay out of my head.
“Hey, what are you doing right now?”
“Watching a recording of last night’s hockey game, why?”
“The Bruins win.”
“I already know that, dickhead. I watchSportsCenterin the mornings.”
“I’ll buy you dinner if you come help me at Gretchen’s.”
“Dinner, huh? Do I get to pick the place?”
“Within reason.”
“Are you going to be stingy?”
“Are you going to be an asshole?”
He didn’t even hesitate. “Probably.”
Knowing I didn’t have much choice, I let out an exasperated sigh.
“Fine, but anything over fifty bucks, you’re paying for yourself.”
“Seventy-five.”
“Sixty.”
“Deal. I can meet you at her place in half an hour.”
“See you then.”
~~
My little brother walked into Gretchen’s kitchen and let out a low whistle when he looked around.
“Wow, you’ve really made a lot of progress.”
“It’s amazing how much you can get done working just a couple of hours a day over the course of a week.”
He ran his hand over one of the cabinets I’d already installed.
“Don’t let this go to your head, but you are one talented motherfucker.”
“Yeah, no shit. People aren’t paying me for my stellar personality.”
“Good thing. Otherwise, you’d be broke.”
“Or worse, working for you.”
“Pffft. You wouldn’t last a week.”
“You’re probably right. I wouldn’t be able to stand smelling like oil.” I leaned forward and sniffed the air around him. “Even onmy days off.”
