“I have health insurance.”
Chris shook his head. “That doesn’t count.”
“Fine. I’ll leave the hammering to you.”
“Good.”
“That wasn’t a sex joke.”
“It should have been.”
Joey nodded as she looked around the room. “Probably was, now that I think about it. Pretty room. Why are you sledgehammering the fireplace?”
“Mortar cracked a few years ago. Somebody patched it, but they didn’t use refractory mortar like you’re supposed to. So it’s cracking again. Only thing to do is tear it all out and start over.”
“Looks messy.”
“Gotta make a mess to clean up a mess sometimes.”
“There’s a metaphor for life in there,” she said. “My life, probably.”
She went to the king-size bed, pulled back the dropcloth, and ran her hand over the soft woven covers. Big room. And yet because of all the fir paneling and cedar ceiling beams, it managed to feel cozy and intimate. Almost romantic. Apart from the huge gaping hole in the fireplace mantel.
“Rough day?” Chris put the head of the sledgehammer on the floor by his foot and he leaned on the handle like a cane.
“Better day actually. I think. Maybe I was too hasty last night when I said, you know...the plan didn’t work.”
“You just broke up with the guy. You’re allowed more than a couple days to get over it. A whole week at least.”
She smiled at him, grateful for his understanding.
“Six months. Kira ordered me to not do anything drastic for six months after the breakup.”
“What does she consider drastic?”
“Cut my hair off. Get a tattoo. Buy a new car I don’t need. Kill someone. Join CrossFit.”
“Was that list in order of how drastic they are from least to most?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“Sounds about right. Six months is fair. After my last breakup I nearly bought a motorcycle to feel better. I don’t even know how to ride one.”
“Why did you want one, then?”
“Binge-watched Sons of Anarchy on Netflix. I wasn’t in a good headspace so... I know the feeling. It’s okay to take a little time out.”
“Speaking of time. About last night... As soon as the shock wore off, and maybe the afterglow, it hit me that I’d spent two years of my life with someone who lied to my face every time we were together. I wasn’t crying because I miss him or I want him back. The Ben I thought I loved doesn’t exist. I was crying because, well, I didn’t have a sledgehammer at the time or anything to hit.”
He looked her. Then he looked out the window. Then he looked at the door.
“Chris?”
He walked to the door and locked it before facing her.
“One,” he said.
“One what?”