Dear Boss,
The effort to sort through Sean’s collection of photographs initially drained Sara. By the end of the project, though, she had found renewed peace. The Family collection made her smile often, drew the occasional “Ah” out of her, and allowed her to sustain the lighter attitude that she’s shown as of late.
The images from middle and high school held the most surprises. The secrets were minor, even predictable. Still, they shook her. She worries there is more to learn about him that she didn’t know. Naturally, she is correct.
I’m glad that she recognized my attempts to apply psychology. My one concern about this field is the notion that we manipulate people. Since she identified the goal of my words, the result was participation, not manipulation.
It was a very good day for her. There was plenty to ponder, to remember, and to cheer. She had little to mourn.
Regards,
Grant
15
Practical Considerations
Tuesday’s wish had been easy. Grant showed me the list of videos on my brother’s YouTube channel. I wanted to archive everything. Done. I spent the rest of the morning answering emails for the shop.
The doorbell rang mid-afternoon. I checked the screen on the security system. Scott. What a happy surprise. I hurried to open the door. “Come in.”
“Thanks.” He stepped into the foyer, his face going blank as he took in the formal living room. Mom had decorated it like something out of a futuristic sitcom—chrome tables, white sculptures, and furniture covered in shiny fabric with gray geometric shapes. The sole splash of color came from the bold yellow area rug.
I gave him an understanding hug. “It’s overwhelming, I know.”
“No, it’s, um, ...” He sighed, at a loss for words.
“You have my permission to stop trying. Come on.” I led him to the kitchen and pointed at the stools beside the bar. “Why don’t you have a seat? I’ll get us a drink.”
When I returned with two glasses of iced tea, he was still standing. He steadied me while I slid onto a stool before seating himself.
“Okay,” I said, “what’s going on?”
His smile was shyly triumphant. “The Miltons accepted the bid. I’m managing my first project.”
“Great. Congratulations.” I clicked glasses with him. “So when do you start?”
“Tomorrow, I hope.”
“Sounds like there might be a catch.”
“Dad and Teresa Rey are leaving July eighth for a cruise. They’ll be gone for ten days, which we knew when we made our proposal. We were hoping it would be awarded sooner, so that Dad could participate more at the start. I might find myself having to suspend the project if I encounter anything that needs his help.” Scott frowned as he seemed to disappear into his thoughts. “While Dad’s gone, I’ll have to supervise all of our regular accounts, too. It’s mostly lawn maintenance, but that still takes time. And with the unpredictability of heat and storms, the added workload from a new project will be tough to juggle.”
“That should be fine.”
“Probably. A couple of the B&B’s features will require subcontractors, so I’ll try to schedule them during Dad’s vacation.”
“Like?”
“Building a cistern to hold rainwater. The Miltons want to use one for irrigation. Not that they’ll need to do much of that. We’re designing for low-maintenance plants.” His frown deepened. “I’ll definitely need Dad’s guidance with the gazebo.”
“I don’t remember you mentioning a gazebo before.”
“They added it today.”
It was my turn to frown. “They didn’t require it in the original proposal?”
“No. When I went out there this morning to discuss schedules and finalize details, they broached the idea. They want to offer wedding packages, and a gazebo will make that even more attractive.”
