I leaned against a post, arms crossed, cool and calm.
“So what kind of jobs you usually take on?” My tone wasn’t curious; it was calculated.
I wanted to add, ‘Cause if it involves anything heavier than ego or excuses, I’m guessing it ends in lawsuits.
"Uh… just mostly custom work.”
That sounded like a lie.
I eased a hand onto the cart handle and decided to toss him a question like I needed a second opinion—one any real carpenter would know.
“So I’ve been trying to figure out the best way to brace the subfloor in one of the back rooms without ripping up the whole thing. You think it’s better to use blocking between the joists or just sister ‘em with new lumber?”
Adrian blinked like I had just asked him to recite the periodic table backward.
“Uh... yeah. I mean... you could probably sister 'em. I guess… or block ‘em. Depends on... how old the, uh, subfloor is,right?” He forced a quick laugh, scratching the back of his head. “You know, I usually just eyeball stuff like that. I been doing it so long, it’s like instinct now. You feel me?”
I stared at him, unimpressed. “No, nigga... I don’t.”
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other and tried again.
“Well, you gotta use a... torque meter. Right?”
“Ain’t no such thing as a torque meter for wood, my boy.”
My voice had that edge of disbelief that made his fake smile falter, dropping like a crooked cabinet door left to swing on its own.
“Answer this. What kind of wood do you use for exterior framing in below-freezing climates?”
Adrian squinted like he was waiting on Google to load. “Oak?”
Ialmostblurted out,"Try again, mothafucka!"in my best Michael Blackson voice fromNext Friday… but I kept it player.
“Wrong. Try again.”
“Birch?”
“Colder,” I replied, relishing the moment.
“Shit... mahogany?”
“Nigga, mahogany is a luxury hardwood. That’s like wearing Balenciaga to shovel horse shit or cut grass.”
Adrian raised his eyebrows, realization dawning on him. “Oh.”
“In fact,” I elaborated, dragging out the moment for effect, “what kind of saw do you use for miter cuts?”
His lips moved, but silence came out. That hesitation told meeverything.
“You don’t know, do you?”
Adrian sighed, defeat washing over him. “Nigga, why you grillin’ me like I’m on First 48?”
I couldn’t help but grin. “Because if you gon’ claim you can build shit, I need to know if you can protect Chesteria. At the very least, she deserves a man who can hold his own… if not better than me, then at leasthalfas much.”
I crossed my arms, biting back a smirk that threatened to break free. “You not a real carpenter, are you?”
Adrian froze mid-swing, the axe almost falling from his grip as reality settled in.
