“They labeled those packages with the name: Adobe Sunset. The shingles should be Cedar Falls.” Her hands fall heavily against her sides, a clear sign of frustration.
“No, you have that mixed up. You were worried yesterday that the shingles were Cedar Falls rather than Adobe Sunset, remember?” By the scowl on Mrs. Dunn’s finely lined face, I regret my response.
“Are you calling me senile, Mr. Miller?”
I walk around Mrs. Dunn and reach through the open driver-side door and retrieve the clipboard with her order form affixed to the top. I examine the paper, filled out with her handwriting, and point to where she wrote the words: Adobe Sunset. “See here; these are the shingles you requested,” I explain, trying to soften the tone of my voice. I’m not in this to prove an elderly woman wrong. I just want to get this job done.
“Goodness. I guess I am going senile,” she says defensively, but with an air of embarrassment.
“We all have our moments, Mrs. Dunn. Trust me.”
“Well, thank you for being understanding of an old woman. I apologize. You’re doing a wonderful job. Can I make you a cup of coffee?”
“That would be wonderful. Thank you, Mrs. Dunn.”
As Mrs. Dunn ambles toward her front door, Davey pulls up alongside the curb in his cherry-red pickup. The brakes squeal as he comes to a stop. I’ve been advising him to pick up new brake pads for months now, but the guy doesn’t listen to his wife or me, so I foresee him grinding metal before he gets anything fixed on that heap of junk.
“Sorry I’m late, boss,” Davey says, lumbering around the front of his truck. He kicks the scratched-up metal bumper and mutters something under his breath.
“Everything okay?”
“My battery died in this damn thing, and Carol-Anne had to give me a ride to the auto store so I could buy a new one. She missed her hair appointment or something, and now she’s pissed at me. It’s too dang much for this early in the morning.”
You’re telling me,I want to say.
“Well, you’re here now. I’m sure Carol-Anne will get a new appointment, and all will be well in the world again, right?”
“Sure,” Davey says, inspecting the work I finished yesterday. “Man, you hauled ass already, huh?”
I would like to tell him if he doesn’t start lifting more of his weight, I won’t need him much longer. He took a personal day yesterday.Reason: still unknown.
“Yeah, I want to get this job done.”
He resets his focus on the front door where Mrs. Dunn has reappeared with a mug of coffee in hand.
“You must be Mr. Davey,” she calls out. “Mr. Davey, are you insured?”
Davey glances over at me with a dubious look, wondering why she would ask him this question rather than me when I’m standing right here. “Yes, ma’am, and I work under Chance’s LLC. Is this going to be a problem?”
“No, of course not. I was just asking,” Mrs. Dunn says. “Would you like a cup of coffee, as well?”
“Oh, I’m all set, but thank you, ma’am.”
“Well, you two should get moving. We have a roof to finish today,” she says, handing me the mug.
Without another word, she spins in her pink slippers and claps her hands together twice on her way back to the front door of her house.
“I see why you want to get this job done quickly,” Davey mutters.
“She’s a real peach.”
It takes the better half of the day to get most of the roof situated. All we have left now is the ridge capping and clean-up, which will take us right up to about five o’clock.
“Are you heading over to Kenny’s for dinner after we wrap up?” Davey asks.
“You know it.” He knows that’s where I go every night.
“Mind if I join? I ain’t in a rush to get home to Carol-Anne after her crap this morning.”
