17. Chapter 17
Chapter 17
Scott
" Y ou've got this, okay?" I murmured, cupping Morrie's face in my hands. He looked at me, nervous and unsure, his body shaking a bit in the passenger seat of my car. We were parked outside of an office he'd been dreading going to all week and though I wanted to pull away and tell him he didn't have to go, I was the one who'd asked this of him. I'd been surprised when he'd told me that he was agreeing to go speak with someone about his childhood and I was even more floored when he'd suggested that I could help him choose who to call. We'd made a bunch of phone calls together until we'd found one that had made him feel comfortable on the phone and his first appointment was today. In a handful of minutes, to be exact.
"I don't know, Daddy."
"I am so proud of you," I murmured, rubbing his cheekbones with my thumbs as I held him in my hands. "So very proud. I know it's been a tough week and this will help."
Morrie nodded slowly, though he was still uncertain and I knew it. He had heard from his landlord, but the message had only been that he was having a construction crew come in to take a look at the ceiling. It would be a while yet before Morrie would be able to go into his apartment and live there, if he ever was able to again. The uncertainty was dragging on him and it had progressively gotten worse these last few days. We'd hung up stockings and set up hideous blow up lawn ornaments together, but that spark of joy I'd seen in his eyes before was missing. The only positive sign was that instead of pulling away from me, Morrie was still letting me touch him as long as I did it in the right way.
"You can do this," I assured him as he pushed open the car door. "I'll be back in an hour to pick you up and we'll make dinner together."
"Macaroni cheese," he whispered, with a soft smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
I nodded, having learned that not only was macaroni and cheese from the blue box little Morrie's favorite food, but it was a comfort food for adult Morrie as well. It reminded him of his dad, he'd confessed one night as he'd eaten his neon orange noodles. It was one of the only things his dad could cook, and they'd eaten lots of it before the plane crash.
Morrie lingered with the car door open for a few moments before giving me a nod and shutting it. He hesitated only briefly again, then made his way across the parking lot and in through the big glass door at the front of the clinic. I exhaled a heavy breath and put my car into reverse, reminding myself that I probably needed to call the therapist I'd found for myself again soon as well. Practicing what I preached was one of my unspoken rules and I’d sought out help on a few occasions throughout the course of my life. Heading out of the parking lot, I made my way towards the apartment buildings I owned, eager to see what work had been done since the last time I'd been there.
Walking up the stairs of my apartment building filled me with renewed purpose. I could hardly believe that so little time had passed between the moment I'd taken possession of them and now but seeing the amount of work being completed made me feel a bit in awe of what was being accomplished. As I made my way up the staircase, the sound of boots on wooden floors and air tools whirring on the floors above met my ears, bringing a smile to my face. When I reached the second floor, I peered through the window in the steel fire door and saw a flurry of work in progress. Russ stood in the doorway of one of the second floor apartments, the sounds of demolition rattling through the air. He lit up when he saw me entering the floor, a sly grin coming to his lips.
“Nice hat.”
I rolled my eyes at the orange hard hat I’d agreed to wear when I stepped onto the job site. “Thanks. How’s things?”
“Well, we were able to salvage most of the second floor and a large part of the first. We haven’t made it up to the third yet, but I expect the same based on my first glance. This place has good bones in spite of its age. A lot of the walls just need a patch or two, and a fresh coat of paint and they’ll be good as new. The carpet is another story.”
“Yeah, those are gross. We’re putting down laminate.” Easier to clean and cheaper in the long run. If I found a style I liked, repair could be as easy as removing whatever got damaged and replacing it instead of redoing the whole floor. I was pleasantly surprised to hear that the walls didn’t all need to come down though. That would save money for sure and that mattered, though I could be a bit more free now that I wasn’t buying the last two buildings on the block.
“How soon could these be ready for tenants?” I asked.
“Man, I have no idea. Let me get the third floor demo finished and then I’ll have a better idea of a timeline. Not before Christmas, obviously, but maybe late January for this one?”
“That would work,” I nodded. “Deal fell through on the other two, so after my three we’re done.”
“He didn’t bite?”
“Nope, Lindsey said he wanted more money and I’m not willing to spend any more than my offer. Actually, I wouldn’t be looking to buy them at all anymore.” I quickly gave Russ a brief of what I’d witnessed at Morrie’s apartment and his only response was a low whistle.
“That’s going to be costly.”
“You’re telling me. Morrie was beside himself with sadness and while I wished I could help, I can’t sink money into saving something that isn’t worth it. If it was me, I’d demolish the lot and sell the land.”
It felt a bit callous talking about a place that Morrie called home like that, but when it came down to it, money was money and I had to consider my bottom line at the same time as my feelings for him. My secret hope was that he would stay with me and forget all about his apartment that was full of junk and clutter but even admitting that felt wrong. Morrie loved that stuff and after he’d told me what he’d experienced, I understood why having the mess made him feel comfortable.
“You got it bad for this boy, huh?” Russell smiled, knowingly.
“He’s pretty special,” I agreed, not even trying to play it off like I didn’t have a head full of Morrie most of the time now. “I’ll have to have you and Silas over for dinner one night so you can meet him. I think you’ll like him.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. Speaking of boys, though, there’s a Christmas party at The Red Door this weekend. You interested?”
Russ shook his head so hard I could have sworn it was going to fly right off his neck. “Nah. I’ll leave that up to you and Si. Wouldn’t know what to do at a place like that.”
I had a feeling he would fall into it easily, but that was up to him to figure out. Pushing Russ into things wasn’t the best tactic when it came to my friend. He was more likely to get his feathers ruffled and put his foot down instead of giving in easily to what he’d hinted he really wanted. “Offer’s on the table. Let me know if you change your mind.”
He nodded, but it was more of a brush off to get me to stop talking than an agreement to come. I spent a few more minutes wandering around my building, taking a peek into a few of the apartments as I imagined what they’d look like full of life and hope and home again. With a satisfied smile curling the corners of my lips, I said goodbye to Russ, thanked him for what he and his crew had done so far, and made my way back out of the building, heading towards my car.
As I opened the door to the vehicle, my phone rang and I saw Lindsey’s number on the call display. I answered it, sliding into the driver’s seat and turning the car on. As the call connected to my bluetooth, I caught the tail end of a laugh coming over the speakers.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
“You are never going to believe who has reached out with an offer for you to buy his apartment buildings.”
I was floored, glancing out my window across the snowy landscape to where Morrie’s dilapidated home stood, cold and stark against the backdrop of the snowy sky. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Yeah, he is willing to negotiate if you’re willing to come back to the table. Are you in?”
Of course he was, now that the building was leaking water and required extensive repairs. The slimy, greedy shit. If he thought he could foist it off on me, he was very wrong. Apparently, he hadn’t connected the pieces between the man who’d left him multiple voicemail messages about a ceiling leak a handful of days ago and the man who’d been offering to buy his place. There was no way I was taking it on in its current state and I said as much out loud.
“You’re not interested anymore? I thought you wanted them.”
“Not a chance,” I replied, with a wry laugh. I gave her a run down of the information I now had thanks to what I'd witnessed at Morrie's apartment and listened as she made noises of disbelief as I spoke.
“So he’s trying to offload a problem onto you not knowing that you already know what’s happening with the roof. How does he think this is going to do? He can't really think he's going to get the same offer again. It wouldn't even pass inspection as is, and that's just what's visible. Who knows what's lurking beneath the drywall and shingles?”
“Exactly. I’m not willing to take that on. It requires far too much work than I, or anyone I know of, would be willing to put in.” I didn’t need to tell Lindsey my opinion regarding the building’s continued existence for her to read between the lines.
“That bad, huh?”
I thought back to the browned ceiling slowly dribbling water onto the threadbare carpet, and the possible hints of black mold I’d seen creeping around the edges. “You have no idea.”
Lindsey agreed to tell him that I was respectfully declining his offer, which was far more professional than my suggestion that she tell him go get fucked, then we ended the call. Certain that I was making the right choice, I pulled out of the parking lot and headed to pick up Morrie from his therapy appointment.