It turned out it wasn’t much, but it was enough to help Frank tackle the walls. Harper was sweating in minutes.
“Bet you’re missing your desk now, huh?” he snickered as Harper huffed and puffed trying to hold an eight-foot sheet in place.
“Can you screw a little faster?” she gasped.
“That’s what she said,” Frank said, nimbly moving the screw gun around the sheet.
“I’m sorry. Was that a joke you just made?”
“Oh, now don’t go getting your undies in a bunch over a ‘that’s what she said’ joke. If you can’t take a joke, you shouldn’t be on a jobsite.”
Harper snorted and stepped back from the wall. “I’m not offended, I’ve just never heard you do anything but whine and complain. A ‘that’s what she said’ joke is pretty impressive.”
The rest of the morning passed in a blur of insults and heavy lifting. Frank showed Harper how to cut drywall using a T-square, her foot, and a utility knife. “Not bad,” he said, rubbing his grizzled red beard as Harper triumphantly snapped a sheet in half. “Let’s put this up and then you can take me to lunch.”
They finished up that afternoon. Harper dumped the dustpan in the garbage bag. “If you’re good to go, I’m going to head out. I have some stuff to catch up on at the office.”
Frank nodded. “I guess you did okay today.”
“I’ll take that as the glowing compliment you meant it to be.”
“I heard you talked to Joni Whitwood this weekend.”
“Did you also hear what I had for breakfast?” Harper rolled her eyes. “Yes. I ran into Joni and we talked.”
“How is she?”
Harper tried to gauge from his expression what his interest in the topic was, but came up empty.
“She’s doing okay.” She slung her bag over her shoulder.
“She’s had a rough time. Her and Luke.”
Harper nodded.
“It looks like Luke’s starting to do better what with you and all. It’d be nice if the same could be said for Joni.”
“Do you know her?”
He looked at the toes of his boots. “I used to. A long time ago.”
She waited for him to continue, but he went back to checking the lid of the drywall mud.
“Will you need help tomorrow?” Harper finally asked, digging her keys out of her bag.
“I’ve got the mudding covered. You can go back to sitting on your ass behind a desk.” The rudeness was there, but it sounded softer somehow.
“You’re welcome, Frank. I’m happy I could help, too,” she quipped on her way out the door.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
The Fourth of July was an even bigger deal in Benevolence than the Not-So Polar Plunge.
The town festivities kicked off in the morning with the Red, White, and Blue 5k. Aldo had surprised her the day before with an American flag tank top and a racing bib.
“A 5k? I can’t do a 5k!”
“Like hell you can’t. If I’m doing it on this stupid hand cycle, you’re running with me.” He had flopped down on her couch.
