With an irritated sigh, she said, "It's ten o'clock."
I'd only ventured out of my bedroom to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. "Yeah? So?"
"So why is he still working?"
The answer should've been obvious. Brody was juggling a ton of details. Over the past couple of weeks, I'd gained a new appreciation for how much work went into fixing up such a massive old house.
Add in a film crew, a prickly producer, and two older brothers who were no help at all, and it was surprising that Brody had any free time whatsoever. Plus, I knew for a fact that he was laying the groundwork for two other restoration jobs in two different states.
The guy had his hands full and then some.
When Waverly made some snide comment about him needing a course in time-management, I couldn't stop myself from saying, "Oh come on. He's got a lot going on."
"So do I," she said. "And you don't seemeskipping dinner."
I bit my lip. Actually, Brodyhadn'tskipped dinner. Sometime around seven, we'd had pizza delivered to the job site. By then, nearly everyone had already left for the day – everyone except for me, Brody, and Roy.
When Roy took his pizza to the SUV to make some phone calls, that left me and Brody to dine alone.
It had been nice, actually.
Even though we'd taken only fifteen minutes to eat, we'd sat near the beach, talking about color schemes for the home's exterior.
Waverly would've hated it.
ButIdidn't. To my surprise, I was loving the whole project, and not only because it was my grandparent's place. There was something magical about taking something neglected and making it beautiful again.
Of course, the house was far from beautiful now. In fact, it looked worse than when we'd begun. But that was only a temporary phase – the dark before the dawn, the demolition before the restoration, and the mess before the cleanup.
I felt a wistful smile tug at my lips. If only my grandparents could've seen the progression, they would've totally loved it.
But here at the crew house, Waverly was still griping. "And Roy's been acting all funny. I think he wants my job."
I almost scoffed in her face.Didn't she see?Roy wasdoingher job, along with his own. And, as much as his camera irritated me sometimes, I still liked and respected the guy.
How messed up was that?
To Waverly, I suggested, "Well, maybe you should spend more time at the job site."
Her lips pursed in obvious annoyance. "I was there all day."
"You were not," I said. "You didn't even show up 'til noon."
"So?"
"And you left at four."
"Hey, I'm in management!" she said. "I shouldn’t have tolivethere."
I held up my hands in mock surrender. "Fine. Never mind. It was just a thought."
"Well, next time I'll thank you to keep your thoughts to yourself."
I smiled. "You're welcome."
"What?" she sputtered. "I wasn't thanking you for real."
"Good," I said. "Because I wasn't 'you're-welcoming' you for real."
