“Oh great.NowIhave a new fear.Thanksfor that.”
Jack chuckled. “Lookslike you got an early start this morning.”
“The upper cabinets in the kitchen were pissing me off.Istill haven’t decided ifIshould keep the cabinets under the countertop.”
He peered over the balcony into the dumpster. “Lookslike you got the last laugh.Youready to call it a day?”
“Call it a day?”Ilaughed. “Ihave three more cabinet chunks and a toilet thatIhave to yeet.WhywouldIcall it a day?”
“BecauseIwant to take you somewhere.”
The world stopped.Washe . . .Washe asking me out?
I narrowed my eyes. “Where?”
His smile was heart-stopping.Themiddle of his cheek dimpled as the corners of his mouth pulled up.Therewas adventure in his eyes. “Iwas gonna go on a drive.Headdown the coast a ways.Figuredyou might want to actually leave this street and see the sights.”
“I have work to do.”
“Come on,Roar,” he said. “Livea little.”
“I have cabinets to deal with.”
Without another word,Jacklet himself into the house, grabbed the cabinets that had been ripped off the wall, and carried them out, one in each hand.BeforeIcould argue, he used those big firefighter muscles to toss them into the dumpster as if they were sheets of paper.Hewent back for the third, and it was in the dumpster beforeIcould argue.
“Point me to the toilet,” he said.
I was actually thankful for his help with that particular annoyance.Toiletswere heavy.
"Second-floor bathroom.”
The second he was up the stairs,Idashed into the bathroom connected to the bedroomIwas camping in and freshened up.Willowhad generously left her air mattress, giving my back a break from the wood floors and musty couches.
I could hear the floorboards creaking above my head asJackmoved around upstairs.Thatbathroom needed a lot of work, but that was a project for another day.
Somehow,Iwas still in the “get the shit out of the house” phase.
TV shows made home renovation seem quick and fun.Likewatching a cooking show where they have all the ingredients laid out, show you how to mix them, pop them in the oven, and then immediately pull a fully baked dish out of thin air.Noone warned me about the amount of time it took to drag things out of the house, then wait for the dumpster to be emptied.
I splashed a handful of cold water on my face and grabbed the hand towel to pat dry.Themirror above the sink rattled asJacktrudged down the stairs.Therewas an extra pronounced thump that shook the house.
“You okay?”Icalled out.
“Peachy,” he shouted.
“Regretting your life choices?”Iteased.
His laugh was strained. “Onlya little.”
I turned back to the mirror when something caught my eye.Theaged corner of a piece of paper poked out from behind the mirror.Thejolt ofJackcoming down the stairs must have loosened it.
“Great,”Imuttered asIcarefully slid it out from behind the glass and unfolded the paper. “Notanother cryptic letter.”
You are the very breathItake.Youare the morning sunrise, filling me with hope and promise.Youare the noon sky, blazing with unfettered glory.Blindingwith grandeur andcompletely uncontainable.Youare the calm dusk, drawing me home and easing my ache.Youare the twilight, a fleeting, magical momentItreasure dearly.Youare the midnight sky, filled with wonders of galaxies beyond.Boundless.
You are my heart.Youare the marrow in my bones, the core of the manIam.Iwould give my soul to the darkest depths of the ocean ifIcould have you for just one more day.
Before you,Icraved whatIdid not know.Withyou, my soul was at rest.Withoutyou,Ihave turned to ashes—the remnant of something once marvelous.
