For the remainder of my scheduled time, I do my best not to talk about Rylee, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t on my mind for the rest of the hour.
After this therapy session, I’m more raw emotionally than I usually am, but I make it to the jobsite to get to work. Thankfully, my crew can start work without me on the days I have therapy. Today, we have a side job scheduled, and I’m always happy to do work for this couple anytime they need.
“Clayton, I have sweet tea ready for your men when you have time for a break,” a woman with an elderly voice calls from downstairs.
I grin and shake my head, hammering in another plank of luxury vinyl flooring. Mr. and Mrs. Miller hire us when they save enough money to pay for the project without going into debt. I usually prefer bigger projects, but this family has alwayssupported me since I took over the business. There’s no way I’m turning them away. They also spoil us every time we’re on-site, making the men eager to do a better job. These are the customers I love. The ones we build a connection with. It’s what I would like this company to be known for.
“Five-minute break,” I announce.
The crew cheers, and Avery comes over, slapping me on the back. “I think Mrs. Miller has a thing for me.” Avery grins like he just won the lottery.
I scoff. “If you could be so lucky.” Mrs. Miller is an almost eighty-year-old woman. She’s always dressed to impress with some type of pearl jewelry to match her dress. Her graying hair is always curly, and she has the brightest smile I’ve ever seen on a woman.
He grips his chest. “Ouch. Is she really that far out of my league?”
Avery jumps when a large, rough hand grabs him on the back of his neck. “Yes,” Mr. Miller’s gravely voice says before chuckling as he walks toward his wife, placing a kiss on her temple.
I smile, watching the couple. I can see the love they have for each other, and it’s contagious to everyone around them. It makes me not want to settle and to strive for a life like they have. I’ve never seen a couple so happy except for Mr. and Mrs. Thompson, but there’s something to be said for a couple like the Millers who have been together over fifty years.
Just as the crew gets back to work, I place my cup in the sink, and Mrs. Miller comes closer. “So tell me, Clayton. What has you all glum?” Mrs. Miller crosses her arms, leveling me with a look.
“I don’t know what you mean.” I turn toward her and grin.
“Don’t think you’re fooling me.” She points her wrinkled finger at my chest. “I see it.”
“Oh, leave the poor man alone. He doesn’t need to be crying in front of his workers.” Mr. Miller wipes down the counters with a rag.
Mrs. Miller waves off her husband. “You know, in my knitting circle, we find out a lot of things that happen around town.” She fidgets with her dress, acting like it isn’t already perfect. “We may also have heard about a certain man carrying a watermelon as a young lady stormed after him . . . yelling.” She raises her eyebrows, trying to hide the smile playing on her lips.
I rub my hands down my face, sighing out a breath. Perfect. This is exactly what I need. Little old ladies gossiping about me in their knitting circles. That’s great for business.
Mr. Miller barks out a laugh. “I heard about that at the hardware store. I didn’t know it was you, though.”
I point over my shoulder. “I better get back to work.”
The Millers continue their chuckling before Mrs. Miller’s hand grabs my forearm. “I thought it could be the start of a beautiful love story.”
I scoff.
“Oh, you might want to listen to her.” Mr. Miller slings the rag over his shoulder. “It sounds a lot like how I picked up this fireball all those years ago.”
“You hush.” Mrs. Miller points at her husband with a twinkle in her eye. “If it’s the right person, it’ll be meant to be. Sometimes it just takes a little bit more work to make it happen.” She squeezes my arm.
Footsteps come barreling down the stairs, then Avery’s wide eyes meet mine. “Everything’s alright. I’m fixing it. Just don’t listen to the guys.” He takes off back up the stairs, and the Millers look at each other, looking like they want to laugh again.
“You definitely have your hands full with that one already,” Mr. Millersays.
I sigh. “You have no idea. I’m going to go make sure nothing’s broken.”
Mrs. Miller laughs. “You do that.”
Once upstairs, the entire crew stands around the doorway of a walk-in closet in the hall. They get out of my way long enough for me to see that Avery is pulling up the flooring that we’ve already laid. I take a closer look and see that two planks with the same pattern are right next to each other. We have to remove almost the whole closet just to get to the two planks.
“What happened?”
“Avery fucked up,” the crew says in unison, pointing to Avery.
“I gathered.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Get back to work,” I say a little louder so we aren’t wasting any more time.
