NATE
My company broke ground on a new project last week, and excavators and other equipment were now there to clear the land. I met Greg Johnson, the lead engineer, on site to make sure everyone was on the same page as work began. This building was going to be a strip mall in a suburb and would include a parking lot. Proper drainage was a key element to this build, and having changed it more than I’d like during the planning stage, I was here to ensure the correct plan was implemented.
Greg was across the site, waving me over as he spoke to one of the equipment operators, so I jogged over to them to see what was up. “Greg. What’s going on?”
He huffed. “You have to triple-check everything, Nate.” He stuck his hand out. “Even though we confirmed it yesterday, they still showed up with the wrong plans.”
“That’s an easy enough fix given it’s only day one.”
“Easy enough, but it has to get cleared with their foreman, which will take time, and they should already be moving dirt by now.”
I patted Greg on the shoulder. One of the reasons I liked working with him was because of his passion for the projects. He was a huge help in keeping things on time and on budget. We worked together making all the necessary phone calls, and got the problem solved, then I left him to handle the site walk with the project managers.
Gilly’s problems came to mind as it struck me how easily we’d just solved ours, and I wondered how he was dealing with everything. I hated the situation he was in, and it sounded like his uncle may be an underlying problem. Technically, if it got worse, Gilly could walk away; it wasn’t his company. He’d taken the responsibilities on himself, and his dedication was commendable. He loved what he did, and if his company was successful, he’d love it even more.
If that happened, how would it all play out for our relationship? With Gilly’s issue hanging over his head, I didn’t think he had the bandwidth to think that far ahead, not with everything he had on his plate right now. More conversations would have to be had, but the last thing I wanted to do was push too hard, especially during his time of need.
“Nate. Come look at this.” Greg waved me over. As much as I wanted to think about Gilly and solve his problems, I had my own to deal with.
“What’s up?”
Great pointed to the back of the lot. “That water. It’s encroaching.”
“Did this not show up on the survey?”
“No. But it could be a problem.”
“I’ll get someone out here.” We were falling behind faster than things were moving forward. This job should have been a quick in-and-out, but rarely did things go as planned. Didn’t matter if it was work or personal life, and I should’ve known that by now.
15
GILLY
I arrived at the worksite, which was the Pyles’ house. It was in a nicer neighborhood that had taken me a while to get them to approve our proposal, so I wanted to baby this one and make sure we did a really good job, so I didn’t put anyone else on it. This one was on me from start to finish. I could handle it, but having to do it alone, because it was cheaper than adding extra labor cost, sucked. I didn’t get paid by the hour like the rest of our crew did, so for smaller jobs like this, it was a no-brainer to handle them myself.
Mrs. Pyle opened the door and smiled. She’d been really nice to work with so far. “Hi, Gilly, come on in.” We had already picked out our colors, but when we got to the dining room that we were painting, I showed her the swatch again just to be certain. “It’s so pretty, and it’s going to look great in here.”
“I think so too. It’s a great choice and one of my favorite colors.” At least for interiors it was. The color was called Calm Sea and was a grayish blue that would look great in this room. I started unpacking the tarps and got to work. Within a few minutes of rolling paint on the wall, I got into the Zen of it. This was the partI loved. Instant change, minimal effort—well, if you knew what you were doing, and I did. The satisfaction of a job well done at the end was the best pat on the back.
As I worked, I thought about what Daddy Nate had said about buying the company from Uncle Clay. Of course, he didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know, but actually buying it wasn’t something I thought would be possible. For several years, simply working with Uncle Clay and running the business had been enough, but would it continue to be enough? Was it now?
Did I even want the company and all of the responsibility that would mean? How could I buy it if I did? Would I need a loan? I didn’t have as much left from selling Grandpa’s house as I thought, but it might be enough. The problem was that I didn’t have a great head for numbers and didn’t understand what it would take. What was Bateman Painting even worth? I needed to talk to Daddy Nate about it more and not be embarrassed about that. I trusted him and knew he wouldn’t make fun of me and was truly there to help.
What about my relationship with Nate? Some people might consider it unconventional, but I didn’t care about that. We were happy together, and that was what mattered. He sure had me thinking more about the future, though. Would we keep seeing each other? Why did I worry when I knew Daddy cared about me? All of these doubts were only my insecurities talking, and they needed to shut up.
I finished up the Pyle job and gave her instructions for what to watch for over the next twenty-four hours while the paint dried. “After that, let me know if you find any issues, and I’ll come back and fix it.” I didn’t think I’d need to with this one, but I often had to circle back for small fixes on a few of the other crews’ jobs, and time was money. That was one of the places the books weresilently bleeding out from—wasted time fixing other people’s mistakes. If I bought the company, that was going to tighten up, and quick. There was no excuse for sloppy work.
At the end of the day, I headed over to Nate’s house, but Daddy wasn’t home yet. I shot him off a quick text to let him know I was here and to see what he wanted me to do.
NATE: Stay there and Daddy will bring home dinner.
ME: Yay! What R we havin?
NATE: What do you want—don’t say pizza.
ME: Darn.
He already knew me so well. That warmed my heart, but if I couldn’t have pizza, what did I want to eat? Hamburgers. Daddy might not want that, but what else was nearby?
