6. Char
SIX
A few days later,and the gazebo is almost done.
All they need to do is get the final screws and bolts into the ceiling and the project will be complete.
It takes all four of us to carry the heavy thing out and get it attached to a pulley system so it can be set down on the support beams.
“Steady, steady,” Hunter says, acting as foreman. The guys are doing most of the brute force lifting, but Savvy and I are still providing a bit of stability, helping.
It’s a gray day, the wind is blowing kind of hard, and I’m glad I brought a jacket to deal with the unseasonal chill. It smells like rain, too, but I guess Hunter decided since we were so close, so we’re going to try to get this done before the storm blows in.
“Up, up,” he says, and we get it on the table. He starts attaching the cables to begin its final ascent. I’m surprised he knows how to do all this. This doesn’t seem like his brand of carpentry, and Bear’s knowledge of cutting down trees doesn’t mean he has any idea what to do with them once they’re down. The two of them seem to have done their homework, though, and aren’t exactly going into this completely blind.
They should have maybe asked their other friends to help instead of Savvy and I though. We have some meat on us, yes, but lady bodybuilders we are not.
Steadily, they get the gazebo’s roof on it, sliding into the soft supports.
Thunder sounds in the distance.
Baby Nate cries out. Savvy runs to tend to him, and me, with my job being done, helping the boys, join them.
“It’s okay, sweetie, it’s just thunder. It’s just a really loud noise.”
Lightning flashes not long after.
“Now, that’s what you have to actually worry about.”
The baby averts his eyes from the flash of light. He squeezes a plush platypus, his stuffed toy of choice.
“We probably should head in,” I say, loudly enough for the boys to hear us. “The rain is gonna start pouring down any moment.”
“Forecast only called for a drizzle,” Hunter yells back. “Plus, I’m not supposed to leave this winch out in the rain. I don’t want to risk getting chewed out because it’s rusted over when I return it.”
“Thought you didn’t want to rush it,” Bear says, steadying the roof. “What happened to perfection taking time?”
“We’ve kept it slow and steady all this time, Bear. And we’re so damn close to being done...”
A buzzing rings out. It’s Savvy’s phone. She fishes it out of her pocket. “Oh dear. We really should get inside, guys.”
A burst of wind blows by us all. Strong enough that I almost feel myself go with it.
“There’s a tornado warning for all of Evergreen Valley,” she announces.
“What’s that about a drizzle?” Bear shouts in a teasing tone at Hunter.
Hunter grunts. “Fine, get it up on the supports, and I’ll rush the cinch into the garage.”
The two of them settle the roof onto the beams. It’s not super sturdy, but it looks like it should hold for now. Hunter takes the straps off the wood, and packs everything up, hoisting up the device, and starts to roll the machine across the dirt and toward his garage.
More thunder, troubling baby Nate even more, and he”s crying out. Poor thing, he’s terrified and there’s no way we can calm him down. Babies don’t really understand how storms work.
But given there’s a tornado warning, I don’t think explaining it would have helped even if he could understand. Tornadoes terrify me too.
“Come on, let’s get inside,” Bear says, concerned about the storm as much as we are. “No point in getting drenched in the rain if you don’t have to.”
“I thought you liked it when I got wet,” I whisper to him.
“Don’t talk like that in front of the kid,” Bear replies sheepishly.
“If he can’t understand thunderstorms, he can’t understand that joke.”
“You’re going to be a fun mom, aren’t you?”
“I hope I am. Who wants to be a boring mom?”
There’s another rumble of thunder, quickly followed by a flash of lightning. The combo must have startled poor Nate as he throws his arms up and claws for mama.
Another gust of wind rushes past us, Savvy bracing herself on her porch railing. The wind is powerful enough that it blows the plush platypus along with it. Nate cries out for it as it goes flying outward toward the unfinished gazebo.
“Oh dear,” I say, and rush to go grab it.
The gust kicks it up farther, and I find myself chasing it across the yard. I hear something creaking.
“Char, what are you doing? Get away from there!” Bear yells.
I grab hold of the platypus and glance to my right. The gazebo is swaying, or more specifically, the roof is swaying.
And it’s swaying toward me.
I see it come loose from its supports, and I panic, a deer in the headlights.
“Charlene!”
I’m tackled to the ground as the gazebo’s roof slides off its supports and right onto the spot where I was standing merely seconds before.
On top of me is Bear, who had pushed me out of the way, stopping me from being crushed by the heavy gazebo roof.
“Are you okay?” he asks, breathless, panting, sweaty, and more anxious than I have ever seen him before.
I shake my head and collect myself. I still have the platypus, and I do kinda hurt. Getting tackled by Bear is far from as gentle as he usually is with me. “I don’t think anything’s broken. Bruised, maybe, but nothing I gotta go to the hospital for.”
“Good. I’m sorry for hurting you.”
I look up at the gazebo roof in what’s now mud. “I’m not going to complain about some bruises and cuts; they’re a whole lot more preferable to having a gazebo roof fall on my head.”
Bear pulls himself up and then helps me up. He sees me still carrying the platypus. “Going off and risking yourself for a plush toy.”
“The poor kid is already freaking out. Doesn’t need to lose his favorite platypus too.”
Bear smiles. “You’re not only going to be a fun mom, you’re going to be a great one.”
We get up, and head into the cabin as the rain begins to pour down. I return the platypus to Nate, but when I look over at Bear, I note that his cheery demeanor has turned dour.
Why the sudden change? It hurts my heart to see him like this.
Did me endangering myself really bother him that much? I didn’t even think it was dangerous when I ran out. I couldn’t have known.
I didn’t want to break his heart though. He’s so sweet and caring.
God, is this what real love is? When you care so deeply for someone you agonize over even causing them the slightest bit of discomfort?
I want him. I need him. I never want to see that frown on his face again.
I love him.
And I don’t know what to do about that.