Ken wondered how many Dixon’s had offered Thomas Osborne a job this weekend. “I know. I told him to come see me tomorrow, and he said he already had an appointment with you.”
“I watched him work all weekend. He definitely knows what he’s doing.”
“I think that he could get a job higher than a laborer. I don’t think he asserts himself like he could.”
His dad nodded. “I’m contemplating giving him to Buddy as an apprentice. What do you think?”
Ken remembered working under Buddy. The years working with him had taught him what exhaustion really meant, but he learned more under him than he could have from anyone else. “I think Osborne just caught the break he needed.” Ken pushed himself to his feet and pulled the handkerchief off of his head. “I’m going to do a walk-through and make sure that we didn’t miss anything.”
As he started out of the room, his dad asked, “Did you fix things with Daisy?”
Ken paused in the doorway and turned and looked at his father. “No.”
He thought about more he could say, but as usual, didn’t find it necessary to elaborate. He moved down the hall to the farthest room, inspecting lights and paint, confirming the volunteers had laid the floor properly and that the closets had shelves. He examined doors and made sure they shut flush against the frames. He ran water in the bathrooms and flushed toilets. He checked the stair rail’s sturdiness as he walked down to the first floor, then went into the kitchen, affirming that the appliances all had power and water where needed.
Finally, he stepped out onto the front porch. Daisy sat in a canvas chair, holding a bottle of water against the back of her neck. “Ninety-seven degrees. I may need to move to Alaska. I have a friend there who posted pictures of this year’s first snowfall already.”
His heart pounded at her conversational tone. He walked over to the faucet and turned it on, holding his handkerchief under the water. He rinsed it out really thoroughly then soaked it. When he went back onto the porch, he laid it across the back of her neck.
Her eyes widened. “That feels really good.”
He nodded and remembered doing that for her at the lake. He leaned against the corner of the freshly built porch. Someone would need to stain the bare wood, but he didn’t think the work scope for this weekend included it. He had so many things he wanted to say, to include making sure she understood that he knew he had overreacted badly and how sorry he felt about it, but he didn’t want that conversation to happen here. She didn’t need distractions from him right now.
“I heard your dad hired Thomas Osborne.”
“Dad has an eye for people.” He watched a landscape crew lay sod over freshly raked dirt. “He’ll help anyone who’s willing to work.” He turned his head and assessed her. The handkerchief clearly cooled her off. Her face had lightened to a much less dangerous shade of red. “You did an incredible job with this project.”
Her gaze flew to his then she looked down at the porch. “Thank you. I like all aspects of this ministry, but weekends like this really feed my soul.” She looked at her watch without making eye contact with him again. “The Osborne’s went to get their children. I’m expecting the furniture any moment.”
Just as she said that the furniture truck pulled up in front of the house. He watched her hesitate before she got to her feet. “You sit. I can handle furniture,” he said.
“I’m fine,” she snapped. She raised her hands above her head and stretched, then bent and picked up the clipboard at her feet. As she started down the steps, she turned and finally looked at him. “Do you have people here still? A lot of the stuff is going to need to be assembled.”
He nodded. “We let the laborers go. Brad and Jon are still here. My dad’s inside. The four of us can handle it.”
With a nod, she simply said, “Thanks,” then walked down to meet the truck. Using her inventory sheet, Daisy directed the furniture delivery men to the rooms where each box went; beds, bookshelves, and dressers to bedrooms, a table and chairs to the dining room, couches and bookshelves into the living room.
Ken knew the furniture company had donated half of this order, giving Daisy a chance to fill the house with more furniture than she normally would. A picnic table and gas grill went onto the back porch. Ken followed it out and found Brad and Jon in the backyard, finishing a swing set fort the construction supply company had donated.
He walked over to them. “We have some furniture to assemble.”
“Yup.” Jon seated the slide and ducked under it to secure the bolts. “Dad just called out the window.”
Brad slipped his cap off of his head and swiped his sweaty forehead with his sweaty forearm. “Shouldn’t take us long to knock that out.”
The three of them walked into the house together.
Kensat in front of Marcus’s desk and studied the room. He couldn’t believe how little had changed in the last fifteen or so years. Different church, different room, but the desk and decorations remained the same. Framed photographs of youth groups with the brass year plaques covered one wall. While Ken sat there, he counted twenty-three photos. He knew four of them contained his brothers and him.
His body ached. They’d worked hard all weekend building the house. On his way home tonight, he’d impulsively called Marcus. He had an appointment with a group of young men from his youth group that night, so he could meet Ken at the church at seven-thirty. Ken had immediately taken the next exit and headed straight for the church.
He got there about seven-thirty-five. He’d found the side door unlocked as Marcus had instructed and followed the directions to his office.
Within five minutes of sitting down, Marcus rushed into the room clutching a worn Bible and three books. He set them on the corner of his desk and shook Ken’s hand. “Sorry, I’m late. It’s good to see you.”
Nerves suddenly flooded Ken’s chest. He smiled, anyway. “No problem. I have sat on the receiving end of your counsel. I know how it can go.”
“That’s right. You have.”
