“She’s a trooper, that’s for sure,” I respond. We start getting into a rhythm, stacking the boards so the seams aren’t on top of each other. If you don’t, then it’s just asking for water to seep through and rot the wood we’re attaching it to.
“Just the same. Let’s hope Fox doesn’t have that many changes and this part will be the last hurdle,” Paul tells me. If I had it my way, I’d expand Adams Construction down here in South Carolina. I’ve already had a few offers come my way with just working on my brother’s place. That scoundrel is probably slipping my name to every big wig he comes in contact with at The Wet Spot, Fox’s surf shop. I’m sure there’s a back story on how that name came along.
“Maybe, though I may have a permanent position for you, if you’re interested,” I offer as we move along seamlessly. If it weren’t for this permit non-sense, I’d have left it in Paul’s capable hands, but because it’s in my company name and he’s not my official employee, I have to be here.
“Oh, really, I might be interested in that. Your lady know what you’re thinking about doing?” Paul is a family man through and through, older plus wiser for his years, so I’m sure he knows more than I do when it comes to relationships.
“Not yet, but it’s on my agenda. Hold on a second, my damn phone won’t quit vibrating.” We have moved on to the scaffolding. We’re wearing our harnesses, but that doesn’t mean I want Paul to move a certain way while I’m on the phone and the worst could happen.
He nods his head, and I pull my phone out. Seeing that it’s Peyton, I try to grab for it as it slides out of my hand, but it only makes it worse. I watch as it plummets ten feet down onto cement.
“Well, fuck. My day just went from bad to worse.” I fist my hands behind my neck and look to the sky, trying to breathe through the bullshit that’s knocking around in my head.
“Why don’t we call it a day. You head to the phone store, and tomorrow might just be a brighter day,” Paul offers.
“Nah, let’s at least finish this side of the house, then I’ll go do that. A couple of hours without a phone isn’t going to kill me. Peyton has Fox’s number if it’s urgent.” We get back to work. In the back of my mind I’m ready to get out of here, find the nearest place to replace the damn phone, and have a beer, or maybe three. What I wouldn’t give to have Peyton here with me. I make it my mission to get this shit done, even if it means I need to hunt this fucking inspector down myself.
Twelve
Peyton
“That’s so weird,” I say to the empty construction trailer. Chance has been gone all week, and judging from the report that just came in, it seems like he won’t be coming home anytime soon. I’m pathetic, I know, but I really miss seeing Chance on a daily basis. Phone calls, texts, FaceTime calls, it’s not the same. It really sucks, and I’m ready to shut down the shop and hop on the first plane available. I need his arms wrapped around me.
I get back to work, trying to put my mind at ease, somehow manage to not worry about the fact that it’s been six hours since I called, and Chance still hasn’t responded. It’s not that what I’m sitting on is pertinent information, but it does bring up some past hurt that I have no reason to bubble up inside me.
“Get it together, finish your work, and go back home.” That’s another thing that’s changed over the past six weeks. We didn’t even attempt going back and forth between each other’s places. Nope, Chance basically moved me into his place, furniture and all. It made sense. My place was month to month, while his was a home on a couple of acres and a beautiful single-story ranch style home. I took the plunge with both feet and haven’t looked back since. That is until today.
I try Chance’s phone one more time. This time, it goes right to voicemail. Something isn’t right. I scroll through my contacts and click on Fox’s name. Surely, he’s heard from him today.
“What’s shaking, sister-in-law?” Fox answers on the first ring.
“Jesus, the girl that is going to have to deal with you one day.” We both laugh at my joke. It takes some of the heaviness off my chest.
“Nah, I’m fancy free. As much as I know you love me more than the younger Adams brother, is everything okay?”
“One day you’ll fall, and I’ll be there to watch it. I’m trying to get ahold of Chance. I called him earlier today, and it rang, but now it goes straight to voicemail. Have you heard from him?” I ask.