On Thursday, I arrive at work to a white baker’s box on my desk. This time it’s a luscious red velvet cake. He’s going with a theme. And who am I to complain. Cake, right?
Friday brings an intricate arrangement of every red lolly I can imagine—frogs, jellybeans, red liquorice, Smarties, Jaffas. All done up in a basket, wrapped in cellophane and tied with a red bow.
This time I decide to call Josh. I wait until the three Means are all out of the office. Probably sneaking in a mani-pedi on company time.
“Enough already.” I laugh. “Are you trying to get me fat?”
“No. You know what I’m trying to do. Is it working?”
“Well, if you mean are they green with jealousy, then yes.”
“Have they stopped with the snide remarks and bullying?”
“Actually, yes. They had a few things to say when the flowers arrived, but giving them a big slice of the cake seemed to shut them up. After the obligatory complaints about gluten and sugar, of course.”
“Good. Let’s hope it keeps them quiet. Let me know if it starts up again. I have a few more red ideas up my sleeve.” I’ll bet he does.
I was right about the pool. Josh freaked. In a good way.
I meet Josh, who has Tyrone in tow, and Matt at the house on Saturday morning to go over what we’ve come up with. Matt must’ve worked nonstop to get the drawings finished. He’s so keen, and I think Dave is pushing him to get things moving. In part to make a good impression but also to avoid holding up progress on the house.
“Are you freaking kidding me? A pool made out of a shipping container?” Josh and Ty exchange wide grins. Even though they don’t look at all alike, their grins are identical.
“Fuck, yes,” Ty shouts, earning him a light swat from Josh.
“Language. And what’s this on the side?” He peers at the drawings Matt and I have spread out on the trestle table in the back-yard. “Is that a glass panel?”
“Yep. And here at the back is the water feature, which will give you the sound of running water. Very Zen. And super low maintenance.” Matt beams, and so he should be proud. His plans have maximised the space and created zones for eating and relaxing, and even include an old-fashioned Hills Hoist where it won’t be in the way. They’re interesting and quirky without being fussy. And a perfect fit for the house I’ve designed.
“And this is the total cost? All up? Materials, labour, everything?”
“It is. I’ve given you a bit of a break on the price because this will be my first solo job, and I want to use it on my website and socials, if that’s okay? Also, Greer said she might be able to sling a bit of work my way from her new firm, so we’re all scratching each other’s backs.”
“Man, I love it. How about I comp a decent photographer for the photos for you? And whatever you’ve written for the website, I’ll take a look at it for you.” Josh can’t keep the smile off his face.
I love it when a plan comes together. Not only will Josh have a fantastic back yard, I’ve also found a great landscaper, and Matt will get a stunning website. Win, win, win.
“Any chance you might need some free labour on the weekends and maybe school holidays, Matt?” Josh asks as he watches Ty attempt to swing from the Hills Hoist and nearly take the whole thing down. “I have a teenager who has a bit of a debt to work off.”
“Sure. Dave wants me to get this underway quickly. I’ll be working the next couple of weekends at least. It’ll just be labouring, but I could always do with a hand.”
Predictably, Ty has something to say about slave labour, but Josh holds firm and he and Matt come up with a workable schedule. At the hourly rate they agree, it’s going to take Ty a good long time to work off his debt, which seems to be Josh’s cunning plan. Keep him too busy to get into any more trouble. Which speaks to the kind of man Josh has become. It would’ve been so easy to throw money at the problem like his father did. Pay the bail and walk away. But he hasn’t. He keeps stepping up.
We spend a couple of hours checking out the progress Dave has made, which is not much more than trenches, footings and the odd wall frame at this point, tinkering with Matt’s drawings and starting to look at details like flooring, tiles and bathroom fittings. It doesn’t escape my notice that not only do Josh and I generally agree, but if there’s any doubt, he defers to me. My personality will be stamped all over this house.
By the time I meet up with Jessie later for a drink and a movie, my euphoria hasn’t settled. I fill her in on what’s happening with the house, and the landscaping, showing her pictures of the progress and the plans. And maybe I rattle on a bit about how great it will be for parties and kids.
“Hmmm.” She looks serious.
“What? What do you mean byhmmm?”
“Oh, I love it. It’s gorgeous. But do you think maybeyou’reloving it a little too much?”
“What do you mean? I designed it. I’m supposed to love it.”
“Of course. And I don’t mean to boo on your yay, but it’s not your house, Gee. You won’t be living there.” And it hits me. I am investing. Too much. I’m seeing myself cooking in the gorgeous kitchen, dancing on the deck, sunning by the pool. And not just me. Josh and me. It’s like a wet fish to the side of the head.
“Shit bugger bum. You’re right.” It’s all I can do not to burst into tears right there in the cinema. Despite the dark, Jessie can sense how upset I am.
