29. Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Eliza
I hum to myself as I lay out my plans on the table in the workshop. Thankfully, Pops put a nice heater in it, keeping me toasty as I work on the gift for Nick. He was more than helpful at the store, and it took everything I had not to blurt out my plans for him. I’m so ready for it to be done; mostly because it feels like our future is hanging in the balance…
Reaching over, I click the radio on, turning it to a station that’s playing holiday music. There’s a lot of static in the background, and I chalk it up to the radio being older than me. I take a deep breath, and turn my attention back to the task at hand .
It’s going to be a tough project—well, for me, anyway.
My eyes flicker to the stack of wood in the corner and then to the table saw. I have no idea what I’m doing, but I did make sure to buy all the safety gear. I do not want to have to make another call to the fire department.
Talk about a really awkward way to tell Nick that I’m in love with him.
Laughter spills from my lips as I get started. I realize quickly that it’s tedious work, and I find myself looking up how to run the tools more than I want to admit. However, I do manage to cut all the pieces needed over the span of about three hours. And by the time I’ve finished that step, I’m sitting on the stool next to the table, wiping the sweat from my brow.
“How’s it going in here?” Granny peeks her head in the door.
“Good … I think,” I say, smiling. “All the pieces are cut, I just have to put it together; which might be the hardest part.”
“It depends on how exact your cuts are.” Granny laughs, stepping the rest of the way inside of the workshop. She’s carrying a plate of chicken and broccoli casserole and a chocolate chip cookie. “But I figured you probably worked up an appetite, no matter how well you cut those boards.”
“I actually did.” I laugh. “No wonder men eat so much.”
Granny shakes her head and sets the plate down on the workshop table as I reach over and turn the radio down, “Jingle Bells” fading to near silence. I breathe in the aroma of the freshly baked food, my stomach growling .
“How did the trip to the hardware store go?”
I stab my fork into the casserole and load up some cheesy chicken and rice. “Um, I think it went well. It was really hard not to tell him what I was working on, because obviously, he was interested in it.”
She nods. “I figured he’d be his usual self.”
My eyes stay on my food as I shrug. “I don’t know. It’s hard to tell. Nick rarely shows when something is wrong. I don’t think he’d tell me even if there was.”
“Your pops was like that,” Granny says, sighing heavily as she takes a seat on a second stool. “I remember us going round and round when we were young. There was one time that I just swore he was over me.”
I raise a brow, finally putting the delicious goodness into my mouth. “What happened?” I say through my full mouth of food. I never have to worry about manners with Granny.
“Well…” Her voice trails off as she laughs. “You may or may not believe it, but I was young once. It happened about a month before we got married, too. I was seventeen.”
“There’s no way I could’ve gotten married when I was seventeen,” I comment, swallowing my bite. The casserole warms my stomach in all the right ways.
“Yeah, well, things were much different back then, but you know, even still, I don’t know that I was ready to get married. It’s just how things were. But anyway.” She chuckles. “We’d gone to get a malt down at Bill’s—can you believe it was there back then?”
I smile, shaking my head. “I really can’t. ”
The nostalgia on her face is touching. “We got a malt, and he was talking about the wedding coming up. I think he was nervous about it. He didn’t have a great job at the time, and for some reason, he assumed that we were gonna have babies as soon as we said I do .”
“Babies having babies,” I comment, trying to imagine myself having a child back when I was seventeen. I have nothing but respect for the women who do such a thing, because it would’ve been a disaster for me.
“Your dad wasn’t born until I was nearly twenty-five,” Granny remarks, before continuing the story. “Naturally, I was really nervous about getting married, too, so I was harder on him about it than I should’ve been. I interpreted his nervousness to mean he didn’t want to marry me at all, and I laid into him, right there in the malt shop. I told him that if he didn’t want to marry me, he should just say so. Well … because your Pops was the type to go quiet when he got upset, he never said anything , one way or another.”
I cringe, thinking about the stress that probably caused them. “So, what did he do?”
“He told me he had some things he needed to do and took me home. I just about went crazy for the next few days.” Granny giggles at the memory “And we didn’t have all this technology you kids have today. I couldn’t just call him up on a cell phone and check in on him. He didn’t even use his landline.”
“I would’ve gone crazy, too,” I say, taking another bite.
Granny grins. “I started feeling so bad for laying into him like I did … and I got tired of waiting to hear from him. So, I convinced my dad to let me borrow his truck for an afternoon, and I went on a hunt.”
I laugh, trying to imagine my Granny as a young woman on a mission to find her fiancé. Somehow, my brain conjures up a younger version wearing the same eccentric clothing. “Where did you find him?”
She sighs. “He was at his house, trying to build a bedroom set for us. I guess it was supposed to be a surprise, but when I got there, he couldn’t hide it. I told him I was sorry for laying into him the way I did, and you know what he did?”
“What?”
“Nothing. He just shrugged, told me it was okay, and went back to working on the bedroom set. I’d spent all that time all worked up for no reason at all. Now, don’t get me wrong, I think your Pops was definitely bent out of shape over the whole thing, because he never went more than a day without seeing me.”
I tilt my head, swallowing the last bite of my casserole. “But he just didn’t want to admit it?”
“No, I don’t think that was it, either. I think he just … wasn’t the kind to talk about it. After I came over, everything was fine, so he wasn’t going to worry about it. I don’t know, really. But he was always like that.”
“Dad’s not like that,” I say thoughtfully, thinking of the way my father hashes everything out.
“That’s because your daddy is like me. We’ve got to talk and talk and talk until we feel better. ”
“I don’t think I’m like that.” I pick up the cookie, noticing the melted chocolate smeared across my finger. “I think I’m somewhere in between.”
“I think you’re a lot like your mama, Eliza Kate. Your mama is a strong, stubborn, and sweet woman. I was really happy for your father when he brought her home. She’s the perfect balance, and that’s what I think you are.”
I smile softly. “Thanks, Granny. I just hope that this works out.” My eyes drift back to the stack of wood. “I don’t really know what I’m doing, and I think that shows. My imagination is much larger than my skill set.”
Granny glances over to the pile and then back to the plans. “Well, you know, I did spend a lot of time out here in the workshop with your Pops…”
Now that surprises me.
“Do you know how to run all these tools?”
Granny bursts into a fit of laughter, the bells attached to her sweater jingling as her shoulders bounce. “Oh, Eliza, you have no idea of the things I know how to do.”
“So is that a yes?” I start to get excited, because help is exactly what I need.
“I’ll help you finish this thing. I’m so proud of you for starting, and I’m more than happy to lend a hand.” Granny smooths out her jeans and sweater, standing to her feet. She leans over the plans, squinting down the cut list.
“You got all these measurements exact, right? ”
“Um, I think so,” I say carefully, suddenly second guessing everything I’ve done so far. “They’re at least very close. I do know how to read a tape measure.”
“Perfect,” she nods. “Then let’s get started.”
I grin, finishing the rest of my cookie and standing to my feet to join her. We spend the rest of the evening hammering, drilling, and laughing. I find out that Granny knows a lot about tools—and just building things in general. In fact, I’m certain that she could’ve built her own ramp.
We work into the night, and by the time the new workbench is complete, it’s nearly three o’clock in the morning. I still have to paint or stain it, but the bench itself is done, complete with hooks to hang his tools. I wipe my brow using my bandana, fatigue creeping into my body. Granny is chugging some water with a big grin on her face, not even phased by the late night—not that I let her do much of the heavy work.
“It looks great,” Granny comments, patting me on the back. “I’m proud of you.”
“There’s no way I would’ve gotten this done without you.” I pull her into a side embrace. “I would’ve been out here for weeks.”
“Oh no, you wouldn’t have, but I was more than happy to tell ya what to do. You still did it all mostly yourself. You don’t have to tell Nick that I helped you.” She shoots me a wink that makes me giggle.
“I’ll definitely tell him if he asks.” I laugh. “I’m pretty sure he’ll find that really entertaining.” We gather up our things and head back to the house, our shoes crunching across the light layer of snow that’s still on the ground. As we make it inside, I have a feeling of accomplishment…
And nervousness.
Lots of nervousness.