“Not at all. But are you really okay to do this? I can’t believe you’re changing another tire for me. I should know how to do that at my age.”
He glances at me. “I’m guessing your dad didn’t teach you?”
I shake my head. “Nor my mum. She’s even more hopeless at car stuff than I am.”
“I can show you, if you like?” he offers.
“Would you? I should stop being so pathetic.”
He talks me through what he’s doing, and when the new spare tire is secured safely back to the hitch, I head inside to grab Bambi’s keys. Anders has asked to see the progress I’ve made inside.
He’s sitting in the front seat of the Gator when I return, one long leg dangling out the door. He’s on his phone, but he pockets it when he sees me.
I unlock the outer door of the Airstream and pin back the mesh one, stepping aside.
“The wood was completely rotten,” I explain as he surveys the interior. I’ve gone right down to the metal frame in places. “I still need to take out the wardrobe, kitchen, and bathroom. If you can call it a bathroom.” It’s only big enough to fit a tiny, grimy toilet. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to salvage any of it, unfortunately.”
Dad’s electric chain saw on the kitchen counter catches his eye.
“What are you doing withthat?”
“Dad gave me a bunch of tools. I don’t know what I’ll need yet.”
He looks over his shoulder at me, his features riddled with disbelief. “Are you fucking with me right now?”
“It’s only an electric one,” I reply with a giggle. “It’s not like it’s a great big petrol-guzzling, limb-chopping chain saw.”
“You could do serious damage with that thing!” His voice is raised in alarm. “Your dad gave it to you?”
“Yes.”
He shakes his head.
I can’t help but be amused at his reaction. “It has a safety switch. He did show me how to use it.”
“That was good of him.” He presses his lips together, flashing me a contrite look. “I don’t mean to be rude.”
“It’s okay.” I shrug him off, smiling.
He peers inside again, his eyes scanning every inch. “An oscillating saw would work better.”
“I might not need a saw at all. The cabinets are screwed and bolted.”
He turns around and studies me for a beat. “Why don’t we take it down to the farm? We’ve got all the tools you could possibly need and I can help.”
“That’s really kind, but—”
“Let me help,” he cuts me off. “I want to. I’dliketo. Really.”
“Are you really, really sure?” I need a bit more convincing. He’s supposed to be here for his brother, not me.
“I’m really, really sure,” he insists, and he seems so sincere that I find myself agreeing.
24
I spend the next few evenings down at the Fredricksons’ farm, working with Anders on the Airstream renovation. By Friday, we’ve made great progress and I’m excited at the clean slate we’ll soon have.
Anders has gone to get us a couple of beers and I’m standing and staring at Bambi, my mind working in overdrive.
