then I grab the bag and coffees on my way out.
I catch up to Grant halfway back from his trek around the block. The sky is just lightening, and Schatzi prances proudly by his side. He tilts his head down and looks at me with eyebrows raised, as if to ask if the crazy lady is gone.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hi there. Want to walk with us?” He holds out his arm, and I slide my arm through it, gripping his puffy down coat. We don’t speak till we get to the park, where we can sit on a bench while Schatzi finds a patch of bare earth under a tree to groom herself, and we each open a cup of fragrant sweet coffee, and begin to munch our pastries.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” Grant says around a mouthful of quince and crumbs, “and I’m sorry it didn’t occur to me to check my phone. I knew you had a bad day, and it was shitty of me. I think I probably wanted to avoid you a little bit.”
I swallow the last crunchy corner of my own pastry, and brush crumbs off my jacket. “Why? Am I so bad?”
He puts his arm around me and pulls me close. “You’re fabulous. You are my favorite person in the world. But you are so independent, so self-sufficient. It kills me how much your job takes out of you emotionally, but I know that the more I push you to quit, the more you shut down about it, so I feel a little stymied. I want you to do something to move your career forward and away from those assholes, but I know you have to do it in your own time and your own way and not feel like I pressured you.”
Now I feel like even more of a shitheel. “I love that you want me to be able to do what I want, I really do. It is one of the kindest things anyone has ever offered me. It’s like, JOE-worthy. Really.” He knows what I mean when I say that, and he squeezes me close.
“I didn’t know it hurt your feelings that I didn’t ask you to bid on the new place, and you’re right, I should have asked you.”
“No, you’re right, I’m just being an asshole. Those guys are awesome and they’re going to make it perfect for you.”
“Want to come see it?” he asks expectantly. “You haven’t been there in weeks.”
“Yeah. I do.” I really do. And I can feel my shoulders unclench. “Wanna come to Palmer?”
He smiles. “Of course. Do we have time to do both before you have to go to work?”
“Absolutely. Let’s do it.”
He stands and offers me his hand, and he pulls me off the bench and into his arms, and a deep, soulful kiss. “I love you, Anneke. More than anything. You know that, right?”
“I do. And I love you.” He pulls me tightly against him, and I feel like his embrace is my lifeline. In his arms, all the icky shit just goes away. He knows me. He gets me. He wants me happy. That’s all a girl could possibly want or need.
6
T here are days and there are days. Mine begins with a six a.m. wakeup call from the Mannings, insisting on a seven o’clock meet at the site. I throw on the cleanest jeans and thermal shirt I can find, and head over. Warren and Susie are there, looking gassy.
“We’re disappointed with this,” Warren says in his clipped tone, gesturing at the empty lot, overgrown with weeds and scattered with garbage.
“I’m not really sure what you mean?” I say, perplexed. The lot looks exactly the same as when they bought it, with the small addition of some piles of snow and patches of ice.
Susie sighs, as if dealing with a stupid child. “I know we haven’t completely finished the design discussions, but the footprint of the plans is set; we’re a little curious as to why the foundation has not been started.”
Good lord. The obtuseness of these people is gargantuan.
“As I explained when we met in October, we don’t dig foundation when the ground is frozen. There are too many complications and risks for future damage. And considering the endless polar vortex this winter, the ground is particularly deeply frozen. So we won’t be able to begin digging until late March at the
I catch up to Grant halfway back from his trek around the block. The sky is just lightening, and Schatzi prances proudly by his side. He tilts his head down and looks at me with eyebrows raised, as if to ask if the crazy lady is gone.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hi there. Want to walk with us?” He holds out his arm, and I slide my arm through it, gripping his puffy down coat. We don’t speak till we get to the park, where we can sit on a bench while Schatzi finds a patch of bare earth under a tree to groom herself, and we each open a cup of fragrant sweet coffee, and begin to munch our pastries.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” Grant says around a mouthful of quince and crumbs, “and I’m sorry it didn’t occur to me to check my phone. I knew you had a bad day, and it was shitty of me. I think I probably wanted to avoid you a little bit.”
I swallow the last crunchy corner of my own pastry, and brush crumbs off my jacket. “Why? Am I so bad?”
He puts his arm around me and pulls me close. “You’re fabulous. You are my favorite person in the world. But you are so independent, so self-sufficient. It kills me how much your job takes out of you emotionally, but I know that the more I push you to quit, the more you shut down about it, so I feel a little stymied. I want you to do something to move your career forward and away from those assholes, but I know you have to do it in your own time and your own way and not feel like I pressured you.”
Now I feel like even more of a shitheel. “I love that you want me to be able to do what I want, I really do. It is one of the kindest things anyone has ever offered me. It’s like, JOE-worthy. Really.” He knows what I mean when I say that, and he squeezes me close.
“I didn’t know it hurt your feelings that I didn’t ask you to bid on the new place, and you’re right, I should have asked you.”
“No, you’re right, I’m just being an asshole. Those guys are awesome and they’re going to make it perfect for you.”
“Want to come see it?” he asks expectantly. “You haven’t been there in weeks.”
“Yeah. I do.” I really do. And I can feel my shoulders unclench. “Wanna come to Palmer?”
He smiles. “Of course. Do we have time to do both before you have to go to work?”
“Absolutely. Let’s do it.”
He stands and offers me his hand, and he pulls me off the bench and into his arms, and a deep, soulful kiss. “I love you, Anneke. More than anything. You know that, right?”
“I do. And I love you.” He pulls me tightly against him, and I feel like his embrace is my lifeline. In his arms, all the icky shit just goes away. He knows me. He gets me. He wants me happy. That’s all a girl could possibly want or need.
6
T here are days and there are days. Mine begins with a six a.m. wakeup call from the Mannings, insisting on a seven o’clock meet at the site. I throw on the cleanest jeans and thermal shirt I can find, and head over. Warren and Susie are there, looking gassy.
“We’re disappointed with this,” Warren says in his clipped tone, gesturing at the empty lot, overgrown with weeds and scattered with garbage.
“I’m not really sure what you mean?” I say, perplexed. The lot looks exactly the same as when they bought it, with the small addition of some piles of snow and patches of ice.
Susie sighs, as if dealing with a stupid child. “I know we haven’t completely finished the design discussions, but the footprint of the plans is set; we’re a little curious as to why the foundation has not been started.”
Good lord. The obtuseness of these people is gargantuan.
“As I explained when we met in October, we don’t dig foundation when the ground is frozen. There are too many complications and risks for future damage. And considering the endless polar vortex this winter, the ground is particularly deeply frozen. So we won’t be able to begin digging until late March at the
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