Cutter cleared his throat, and I looked at him. “I’ll make sure to get enough pizza for everyone.”
“Thanks, Toni.”
“You’re welcome.”
Cutter went back to work, and once he was out of earshot, my mom leaned over. “He’s going to take it the hardest, and he’s going to take it out on you because you’re the closest person to his mom.”
“Yep.” Fun times ahead. I sat back and sighed. Maybe I could get Miri to say something to Cutter, like some deathbed promise, anything to save mine and Cutter’s relationship.
Chapter 13
Weston
When I’d set out to fix the porch, I had no idea it would be with Cutter. Until I saw him walking toward me, asking him to help had never crossed my mind.
I was glad it had.
“I’ve never built anything,” he said after he’d gone in and changed his clothes. “I’m not sure what to do.”
“I’ll teach you.” I handed him the measuring tape and laughed. We were both in for a treat. This was how my dad had taught me to build. Our first build was a birdhouse. I had won a kit at some fundraiser and wanted to give it to my mom for Mother’s Day. Only, I’d never used a hammer, so my dad taught me. Our next project was a doghouse. From there, I would do odds and ends around the house, but nothing major.
We walked to the porch, where his grandma and sister sat in the rocking chair.
“Hi, Coach,” Nova said happily.
“Hey, Nova.”
“Cutter, can I play with that thing?” she asked, pointing to the tape measure.
“Later,” he said. “I’ll measure you and write your height on the wall.”
Nova beamed.
“Do you need us to move?” Carmela asked.
“No, ma’am. For right now, you’ll be okay.”
Carmela had introduced herself as soon as I came back from the hardware store. I learned she was Antonia’s mom, but the kids referred to her as their grandma. There was a story there, I was sure, but it was none of my business.
Facing the porch, I pointed to the boards that needed to be replaced. Some were rotted, while others had split down the middle.
“What we’re going to do is replace the damaged ones to prevent any injuries or further deterioration.”
“Where did you learn how to do this?”
I pointed to the first board we were going to replace and had Cutter put the tape measure down. We stretched it across the board and wrote the measurements on a sheet of paper.
“My dad,” I told him. “He was in construction and taught me how to repair most things. I’m not sure I could build anything substantial, but repairs I can do.”
“Huh, I figured you played baseball every day.”
“I did.” I huffed. “After. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate everything my dad did for me,” I said as we walked toward the makeshift workstation I’d set up. “But he was strict and rode my ass. I didn’t have a lot of freedom as a teen. Work and baseball, on top of keeping straight A’s because my parents couldn’t afford to send me to college without a scholarship.”
“But you were drafted right out of high school?”
I nodded and showed Cutter the rumpled sheet of paper with the measurements and then demonstrated how to measure the numbers out on the new board. Once it was marked, we went over how to properly use the saw.
“Being drafted out of high school isn’t always the best or smartest thing for a naive eighteen-year-old.”
