He listens. Quietly. “My father used to be a contractor, and after, um, after, it was just us, so I learned.”
I point to the green shed, the one Nick built to match the house, even down to the white siding and shutters.
This house was a fixer-upper we bought when Bella was a toddler. Being teen parents was definitely hard, especially when Nick left a couple of weeks after Bella was born to go to college. It was a decision we made together.
It made sense for him to go and keep his scholarship so we wouldn’t both be swimming in student loan debt. He worked part-time while I took online classes and took care of Bella. As soon as he was done with college, he moved back home, and we moved in together. A few years later, we bought this house.
This house built us more than we built it, but through the years, we were able to make it our own, and having a matching shed was part of it. He kept all his tools there, and it has been untouched ever since.
Holden walks out of it with some things in tow, straight to the front of the wrap-around porch.
“Did you find what you were looking for?
He kneels to start measuring, and something in my chest cracks with relief when he nods his head yes. But that’s quickly erased by the guilt that threatens to swallow me as I linger here.
“I can help,” I say. I should, right? Not that I actually can.
“Go do what you need to do,” he replies without looking up. “I’ve got this.”
I laugh. “I can’t leave you here to fix my porch while I, what?”
“This should only take a couple of hours,” he mutters, his hands already moving to pry up the first loose board. The oldnails resist at first, but he wrenches them free, tossing the board to the side.
“Do you need anything else?”
“I should be fine,” he says, peering at me through his dark, thick lashes. “Didn’t you say on the phone you had a bunch of things to do? Go do some of those.”
My cheeks feel hot like the summer afternoon, and I can’t keep my eyes on him, so I look everywhere else. I tuck a flyaway behind my ear. “You have no idea.”
“Then go,” he replies with a reassuring smile, one I try to match. “Go.”
“Are you hungry? I can make something.”
I’ve been so wired, trained to always help or do something, I can’t even fathom going inside to do something while he’s busting his ass out here.
He shakes his head. “I’m good, thanks. You can keep me company and talk to me. I won’t complain.” He smiles my way, making my skin tingle and my breath catch. “Or…you know, go do whatever you need to do inside. I’m sure there’s stuff you have to take care of that I can’t help with.”
“There is.”
“Then go ahead,” he says, looking up. “I’m good. I mean it.”
“Okaaaay. I’ll be back,” I add, my voice trailing off as I take a step back.
“Sounds good,” he replies, watching me disappear through the white and gold front door. As it shuts softly behind me, I take a moment to look around the porch again and smile for the first time since I woke up today.
Did you send this angel to help me, Nick?I whisper to myself. It sure feels heaven-sent.
11
SHE’S NOT YOURS
I Found by Amber Run
Holden
I knockon Natalie’s front door. It didn’t take me as long as I thought it would, finding it easy once I got in the groove. I love finishing tasks and the rush of gratification as soon as I finish something.
That’s why I loved hockey so much. The season may be longer than other sports like football, but it’s definitely not as long as baseball. I swear, it feels as though Oliver, Lucas, and Aspen are always playing year-round. The game, though, is fast-paced. All we need to do is play our hardest for twenty minutes at a time, and it’s over. The harder you play, the faster the game time goes. It’s a great feeling, and this project gave me exactly that.
