by Easton, Meg
She jumped up to sit on the counter at the end of his shop. He figured it meant she really wanted to hear, so he talked about the fireplace he was designing for a remodel, and told about the parts he assembled in his shop and the parts he did during installation at the client’s home.
And she listened the whole time. He tried to think of the last time he’d had a captive audience like this, and he couldn’t come up with one. His grandma would listen, of course, but she already knew pretty much everything there was to know about carpentry from Ian’s grandpa, so he never got to talk to her about it like this. Zoe definitely hadn’t ever wanted to know anything about his job. Ever. She wanted him to have a good job with steady pay—she didn’t want to have to hear about it. That was stuff he should chat about with his “carpentry friends.” Having Addi listen was new. Nice.
“Play Rapid Fire with me.”
That was a game he hadn’t played since that summer when he was twelve. He cocked his head to the side. “You offering anything?”
Addison looked up, like she was trying to think of anything she could offer, but then shook her head.
“Awesome. Double Rapid Fire it is.” He was hoping that she didn’t have anything to offer in payment for a one-sided game, because he really wanted to hear her answers, too. He sat on the worktable across from Addi, an aisle separating them.
“One, two, three,” Addi said, as they bounced their fists on their thighs, then she made scissors with her hand and he made paper. She was less predictable than she was as a kid. “Yes!” she said. “Okay, last serious relationship—how long ago, and how serious?”
“Wow, Addi. Just like when you were a kid, you jump into the hard questions.”
“Sorry. I just—” She looked away, shaking her head. “You can use a skip.”
“No, it’s okay.” He didn’t exactly want to talk about it, but he also wanted her to know. “Lasted just over a year, ended two weeks before you moved in. It was pretty serious. I thought it would end in marriage.” He held back his own flinch saying it, and was surprised that Addi’s face didn’t hold disgust at hearing it. In fact, all he could see was curiosity, like something had just clicked into place, and something else he couldn’t quite place. Not pity. Understanding, maybe?
“Two years for me, also ended two weeks before I moved in, went nowhere.”
Interesting. They both had relationships end at virtually the same time. Maybe that was where the understanding came from. But now he was the curious one. He expected her to ask a follow-up question—since she’d won the round, she could ask first. She must’ve seen his reluctance to talk about it, because she didn’t ask.
Unless she didn’t want to open him to asking a follow-up to hers. Fair enough.
She won the next rock, paper, scissors battle, too, and asked, “On a scale of one to ten, how much do you love your job?”
“Eight.” The point of the game was to answer fast, without giving yourself a chance to think. His answer kind of surprised him.
“Eight,” she answered for herself as well. Then said, “Huh. With as much as you light up when talking about it, I would’ve guessed a nine or ten.”
She won the next round. He needed to switch up his rock, paper, scissors strategy. “If you could give up one aspect of your job, what would it be?”
“Trim.”
“Bead collections.”
He finally won a round, and asked, “Part of your job you like the best?”
“Finding creative solutions to problems that seem impossible to solve.”
“Building things.”
Then, he won again, and asked, “What would make your job a ten?”
“Owning my own organization design business.”
He was dying to ask her about it, but he had to answer first. That was the rule. “Owning my own custom cabinet shop.”
Her eyebrows shot up and her mouth opened like she was about to ask him something, but since he asked the question, he got to ask a follow-up question first. Also the rules. “I want to hear more about this design business.”
“I love helping people to organize the spaces in their homes. I really do. There are just so many times that I think of a storage solution that would be perfect—if it actually existed. If I still worked at my old job, I would’ve made a mockup and really pushed for it in our production meetings. Back then, though, I wasn’t in people’s homes so much, organizing their spaces, so I didn’t have the practical design knowledge I’ve gotten from being in the field. I’d love to combine both. And with my own shop, I would have that kind of freedom.”
Everything about her came alive as she was talking about it. Happiness and excitement filled her expressions and her tone of voice. Her sense of adventure had been what first made him want to be friends with her when he was eleven—he loved that she hadn’t lost that. He wanted to have those adventures with her again. He wanted all of those big dreams of hers to come true.
“I want to hear about your custom cabinets, because Ian, that’s perfect! I can totally picture you doing that. Would you run it out of this shop?”
He shook his head. “It’s too small. About all I can make here is one built-in at a time. I would need a shop big enough for several sets of cabinets being built at the same time, as well as some employees. So it’ll take some time, but all the decisions I make as a subcontractor are aiming me toward that goal.”
He hadn’t shared that dream with anyone. It felt great to say it out loud, and to have someone hear it. Especially someone who seemed so interested and seemed to believe that he could do it. He hadn’t guessed how great that would feel. Like a helium balloon in his chest.
“If you start doing custom storage cabinets for parts of the home other than kitchens—like mud rooms, storage areas, laundry rooms, things like that—let me know. I have several clients who I bet would love to have you build them some.”
No words came out of Ian’s mouth. He just sat, looking at Addi. He hadn’t had a ton of experience with serious relationships other than Zoe, and with her, support only went one way. She never would’ve offered to give his name to potential clients. He had thought he and Zoe had a pretty perfect relationship. But the more time he spent around Addi, the more he realized that maybe he had been idealizing his and Zoe’s love, and that maybe it hadn’t been all he’d thought it was.
He realized he was just staring when Addi shifted her gaze to the floor. He leaned forward from his perch on the work table. “Thank you.” He hoped his words came out as heartfelt as he meant them.
She met his eyes, a look in hers that he hadn’t seen before. He didn’t know what it was, exactly—all he knew was that he wanted to reach out and touch that earnest, beautiful face. Then he looked at her lips, and he realized how badly he wanted to pull her close and kiss those lips.
There was a good three feet of aisle separating them, but when she leaned forward, he knew she must be feeling it, too.
When she leaned forward, she pushed down on the end of a board whose end went just past the counter, flipping it up and sending it and the container of one inch long wooden dowels that rested on it flying. The board clattered to the ground and the dowels scattered to the floor, rolling everywhere.
They both jumped off their seats on the work surfaces pretty quickly, and Addi’s hands flew to her mouth. Then she mumbled, “Oh my goodness. This is blueberries all over again.”
He chuckled “Nah. Nothing like blueberries. Which is good, because I like this shirt.”
Her eyes flew to his chest, and his pecs may have involuntarily flexed, which was closely followed by her face reddening and his breaking into a grin. She grabbed the empty container from where it had rolled right next to his drill press, and he took it from her and set it on the counter next to him. “It’s okay, Addi. Not a big deal.”
She grabbed the container back and bent down to pick up the dowels. “There isn’t a surly man in deli to call for clean up on the front aisle, so it’s the least I can do.”
He
smiled and crouched down next to her, picking up the little round pieces of wood that had somehow spread themselves everywhere. As they worked side-by-side, their knees, arms, and sometimes hands brushing each other, all he wanted to do was turn toward her, cradle her face in his hands, and kiss her until they both forgot about the spilled dowels.
Addi looked over at him with her face so open and beautiful, and he nearly did just that. But then her eyes shifted to how far the mess had spread behind him, and he looked, too. As much as he wanted to kiss her, the mess told him he couldn’t. It was like the universe was trying to give him a physical representation of the mess he’d make of things with Addi if he did, and he liked her way too much to do that to her.
12
Addison
Addison headed home from a half-day job in Gresham, wishing she had another job to take the other half of the day. It was still scary to have her own business and to know that she wasn’t going to be having a paycheck magically appear from a company anymore, so gaps in her schedule made her nervous. She had another half day unscheduled next week, and two the week after that. Sure, she might get more clients in time to fill them, but she couldn’t guarantee it.
As soon as Addison opened the front door, Bex came running from the dining room, phone in hand, looking like she was simultaneously going to hold her arms up in a V while running a victory lap and pull at her hair in desperation. “Adds! I’m so glad you’re home! I was literally just pressing on your contact to call you. Are you off for the day?” When Addison nodded, she said, “Oh good. I need a giant favor from you, and I promise I will let you cash in on that favor at any moment of any day.”
The sounds of kids eating and laughing and arguing and telling jokes all at the same time came from the kitchen, and it was all Addison could do to keep her attention on Bex and not walk in there to see what was up.
“Remember how I’ve been dying to get an interview with Steve Stonebreaker for my channel for months? I just got a call from his publicist, and he is in Portland and has an opening. Today! But there’s no school today and I told my sister I would watch her kids and so they’re here and I can’t take them with me and Adds, you have to help me. I can’t pass up this chance.”
“You want me to watch your sister’s kids?”
“Yes. Thank you. Seriously, I owe you big time. Peyton is doing that big catering thing until late tonight, and Timini isn’t back from visiting her parents until tomorrow. I already cleared it with my sister, and she’s good to have you watch them instead.”
“Bex, I don’t know how to take care of kids! I have one sister who is two years younger than me, so it’s been forever since she was a kid, and I have zero nieces and nephews. I wouldn’t even know what to do!”
Bex brushed away her comment with her hand as she went to the check-in counter and started filling her oversized bag with things she kept in the drawer, placing her video equipment on top. “It’s seriously not hard. There’s only four of them, and they’re good kids. It’ll be a piece of cake. It’s an hour drive there and an hour back, and probably an hour for the interview, so I’ll be gone three hours, tops. Just take them to the park or something. My sister traded me vehicles, and I can trade you, so you’ll have her Yukon with the car seats for the younger ones. She keeps it stocked with wipes and a first aid kit and everything else you could possibly need.”
Panic was rising up in Addison more and more by the second.
Bex dropped a set of keys on the counter and said, “These are for the Yukon,” and then grabbed Addison’s keys right from her hand. Bex gave her a hug and a quick “You’re the best!” and then poked her head into the dining area and said, “Addison is going to watch you all until I get back. She’s awesome and I know you all will be angels for her.” Then she raced out the door.
A moment later, she poked her head back in. “Oh, and watch out for Drew. He has even less Stranger Danger than the rest of them.” Then she was gone again.
Shock kept Addison from moving a single inch from the spot where she stood for a good thirty seconds. Until she heard shouting over whose carrot stick someone just took a bite out of was whose, and she rushed into the dining area to hopefully quell what was going on. Four kids sat at the dining table and two of them were having a tug-o-war over a carrot stick. The other two were using their carrot sticks for a mini sword fight. All four put down their carrot sticks and acted like they hadn’t just been doing anything wrong with them and smiled at her.
“Hi,” she said, and gave a little wave. “I’m Addison, and I guess we are going to hang out today.”
The oldest kid shrugged, then picked up his sandwich and took a bite. The two youngest went back to sword-fighting, and the other girl just grinned at her. So Addison took a seat facing the girl.
“Do you mind introducing me to everyone?”
“No problem.” The girl pointed to her brother. “That’s Ash. He’s eight, but just barely. He’s the oldest, so he thinks he’s the smartest. I’m Beth. I’m six, and the one that’s actually the smartest.” She flinched when Ash’s carrot stick hit her in the arm, but kept going like nothing had happened. “That’s Chelle. She’s five, and the one sticking the carrot up his nose is Drew. He’s four.” She reached out and yanked the carrot stick out of her youngest sibling’s nose. “If you forget, you can just call us A, B, C, and D,” she said as she pointed to each of them in order.
“Clever.” She tried to not let the shock of being in charge of four kids who were all basically a year apart show on her face.
“But it’s like secret cleverness,” Beth said, leaning in and cupping her hand at the side of her mouth, conspiratorially, “because our actual names—Dasher, Elizabeth, Michelle, and Andrew—aren’t alphabetical at all. Only our nicknames are.”
“Extra clever.”
The younger two switched from sword-fighting and nose-sticking their carrots to throwing them, and it only took about one-fourth of a second for the older two to join in. “Okay,” Addison said, standing up, “it looks like maybe you’re done with lunch. Want to go to the park?”
They all gave their yeses in the form of fist pumping, jumping up and down, ear-splitting shouting of words she couldn’t even make out, and, in Chelle’s case, dancing.
“Let’s, um, get lunch cleaned up, and then we’ll head out.”
They threw all their garbage away like the trash can was a basketball hoop and they were in a slam dunk competition. They were all wearing shoes, and looked like they were probably ready to go. Thankfully, it occurred to her to ask if anyone needed to go to the bathroom before they left.
Still, it took them a full fifteen minutes to all get outside to the Yukon and hop in. And then back in. And then back out. Like they were playing a game of whack-a-mole where one of them kept popping up outside of the vehicle every time she got another one in.
Finally, all four were buckled in to their correct seats and all doors were closed. As she went around to the driver’s side of the vehicle, she stopped at the back and leaned against the vehicle just to catch her breath.
“Looks like you’re having a party over there.”
At the sound of Ian’s voice, her attention flew to where his truck was parked at the end of his driveway, just twenty feet away. It had been a week and a half since they had come so close to kissing, and she still thought about it daily and longed for a moment like it to return. But right now, she longed for some help even more.
“Ian! Please tell me you have absolutely nothing going on in your life for the next little bit and have just been hoping someone would come along and ask you to spend an afternoon at the park.”
He smiled that amused smile he seemed to have reserved just for her that was getting way too much use. “Where’d you get all the kids?”
“They’re Bex’s nephews and nieces, and she begged me to watch them for the afternoon. Do you have any experience with kids?”
“Sure—all my brothers have kids, and I love hanging out with them.�
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“Ian, please, you’ve got to help me. I don’t know if I can survive this on my own.”
She jolted in surprise as something hit the window just behind her, and she looked to see that an all-out stuffed animal war was going on in the back seats. She hadn’t even seen that there were stuffed animals in the vehicle. But Ian was walking toward her, either out of morbid curiosity or because he was willing to help. Hopefully it was the latter.
“Bex says it’ll be a piece of cake, and that they’re angels.”
“Clearly she’s right.”
“Of course, if you gave thirty kindergartners unlimited snow cones and cotton candy and then put them in a room together and asked Bex to play a game with them, she’d emerge an hour later saying it was a piece of cake, that they were angels, and offer to do it again soon.”
Ian glanced toward his shop.
“Do you have a lot of work that has to get done today?”
He looked at his shop for a long moment, and then turned back to her. “Nothing I can’t get done later tonight.”
“So you’ll come with me?”
He nodded, and she had to stop herself from throwing her arms around him to show her overflowing, can’t contain it, have to show it, gratitude. Then she stopped fighting it and gave him a quick hug anyway, then ran around to her side of the Yukon before she could decide if it was a bad idea. And before the little ninjas inside the vehicle found a way to escape and she had to start the process of getting them buckled in again.
Once they got to the biggest park in town and all the kids ran squealing in excitement toward it, Addison breathed out a huge sigh of relief that she was no longer having to keep them contained. The relief didn’t last long. It wasn’t long before she’d used a handful of wipes and half a dozen squirts of hand sanitizer, two bandages from the first aid kit, an extra pair of socks from the bag in the car, made three trips with kids to the bathroom, caught Drew trying to escape four times, and asked the kids not to show her any snails, snakes, beetles, squirrels, or slugs they found. And better yet, not to pick them up at all.