“You running late? That can’t be right.”
When I snap my head to Griffin, he’s got a smirk on his face. Asshole.
“I hope everyone from the crew comes in here one at a fucking time and the bell doesn’t stop all day,” I say, turning around to leave the bar. I take the extra few minutes to leave dramatically, only to walk right back in to hear it go off again.
“I hate you,” Griffin calls across the bar.
“I love you too,” I shout as I exit for the last time, with one more chime.
***
Pulling my truck into the gravel driveway, I put it in park and round the hood to take in the abandoned house.
It’s not my first time here.
Sometimes I come here and think—dream.
It’s completely different from my property around the corner covered by trees. This one has a vast landscape of mountains in the distance and trees lining the property line. Every time I come here, I think about what it would be like to own this property and wake up daily to this view and go to bed without obstruction of the stars above. I could never pinpoint why I’ve been drawn to this particular place when there’s so many amazing wonders in Bluestone Lakes, but it’s stuck. I like to think it’s the stars. They shine so fucking bright here at night.
I’ve always said if I could pick my dream home, this would be it.
Well, it’s not a home. At least not yet.
It’s nothing but a list of problems pretending to hold itself upright. The siding is shot, the porch sags like a tired old man, and the shingles have been begging to be replaced for ten years. I’ve pictured how much work this house needs a dozen times before today, long before I even got into construction.
When I was a teenager and first moved to Bluestone Lakes to live with the Barlow family, I started by taking on small jobs around town. From fixing fences, patching roofs, to anyother tasks that kept my hands busy. Along the way, I discovered I had my father’s knack for fixing things. Growing up with a mom being a nurse and a dad working in construction, I was taught two important things.
Work hard with your hands, and care for people even when it’s hard.
There was something about having a hammer, a saw, or a drill in my hand that grounded me and gave me control when everything else had been taken away.
I know Levi sees this place as a structure waiting to fall, but when I look at this place…I see good bones, a solid frame, and a steady foundation.
This place isn’t hopeless, it’s just worn thin.
Like most things worth saving.
“Tucker,” I hear my boss, Frank, call my name from the patch of lawn where there used to be overgrown weeds. They seemed to have cut it down to make room for this to get started. “Over here.”
I jog over to where he stands, abandoning the thoughts so no one asks questions.
“This is Tucker,” Frank introduces me to a woman dressed in a pantsuit, as if she’s just come from a board meeting in the city. “This is Andrea. She’s the producer of the show and is in charge of everything here.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say with a nod.
“Likewise,” Andrea says, staring at me with intensity like she’s assessing me. It’s uneasy. “Thank you for being here for this meeting this afternoon. Frank says you’re the best contractor in town.”
“Must be a short list.”
She laughs. “This is going to be perfect.” I tilt my head to the side in question. “I’m not sure if you’ve ever watched the show before or not…”
“Every episode,” I lie, because this isn’t the moment I admit I don’t watch TV. “It’s my favorite show in the entire world. I’ve been looking forward to this season since the last one ended.”
Frank glares at me knowing I’m full of shit, and I wink back at him.
“Amazing.” Andrea claps her hands together. “This season will be a little different. We usually have a couple working together on a project. It really drives drama for views sometimes because not all couples can agree on everything, even happily married ones.” She laughs lightly. “But this season we’re showcasing our star solo.”
“Sounds good.”
