Chapter 24
24
Jewel
The house was nearly painted and electric and water hookups completed by the time Aaron’s construction crew showed up, followed by Aaron in his big black pickup. To Jewel’s delight, Aaron had the shutters and flower boxes she’d requested in the back of his rig. “And I had my guy stain them for you too.” Aaron held up a reddish-brown shutter. “You said mahogany, right?”
“They’re perfect,” she exclaimed. “Thanks so much.”
“If you like, I’ll put them up for you,” he offered.
“That’d be fabulous.” She smiled.
“And the boys should finish up with your deck and awning by the end of the day.”
“I’ve already been putting things inside,” she said. “But I can use the back door to go in and out while they’re working in front.” She pointed to the rear of the house. “And my dad is working back there, finishing up painting.”
His brows arched. “He’s able to paint?”
“Well, he’s slow ... and I have to touch-up after him. But he’s loved doing it, and it’s kept him busy.” She didn’t mention how she’d had to stop him from attempting to go inside with a can of exterior paint. After that, she’d kept the doors locked.
Aaron shook his head. “Must be a challenge, eh? Watching out for a crazy guy.”
“We don’t use that word around here,” she told him. Not out loud anyway , she thought since she sometimes said that word in her head. Like when he’d “rearranged” the house-painting tools yesterday. She’d been ready to get an early start only to find everything gone. Thanks to a drippy trail of green paint, she’d soon discovered that Dad had painstakingly moved everything into her studio area in the barn, where he’d “neatly” stacked it all on her worktable.
She understood how he thought he was helping, but it was hard not to feel irritated by his “craziness.” Thankfully, she’d managed to hold her tongue and simply asked him to help her take it back outside in order to finish up their project. She’d made it seem like he was helping, and he was none the wiser.
As she walked around the exterior of the house with Aaron, going over the last details and making sure they were on the same page, he stopped. His eyes were on her dad, who was painting around the water spigot.
“Hey, old man,” Aaron said in a patronizing tone, “whatcha doing?”
Her dad looked up at him with a puzzled expression, then he grunted. “I’m painting. Can’t you see?”
Aaron chuckled. “Yeah, I see that. But you don’t need to paint that spigot.”
“Spigot?” He frowned. “It’s paint.”
Aaron laughed. “I know it’s a spigot, but it’s galvanized and doesn’t need to be painted. In fact, paint might make it hard to turn.”
He stood up straight, looking Aaron in the eyes. “I’m painting my house.”
Jewel felt pleased to hear Dad lay claim to his house. She also felt defensive. “That’s right, Aaron. It’s his house and he can paint it.” She patted her dad on the back. “You’re doing good work, Dad. Keep it up.”
“But it might dry hard and be impossible to turn,” Aaron told her in an irritated tone.
“Don’t worry.” She tugged his arm, talking quietly as she led him over to the back door where she wanted his guys to make an adjustment to the step. “I go around after him and clean things up,” she whispered. “The spigot will be fine.”
Aaron rolled his eyes. “Well, I guess you know what you’re doing.”
“We just muddle along the best we can.” She turned her attention to where his crew was laying out the wood for the front deck. “It looks like you’ve got things under control, so I’ll leave you to it.” She held up her phone. “I’ll be in my studio. If you have any questions, just call me.”
He grinned. “You promise to answer?”
“Of course.” She gave an uneasy smile, worried that last comment was about more than just business. “And please, just let my dad paint in peace. It’s been a blessing to keep him busy. We all appreciate it.” She forced a bigger smile. “It’s wonderful to see this house coming together. I can’t wait to see the deck and awning and everything all in place.” She finger-waved, then scurried off to the barn. A couple hours of undisturbed creative work sounded amazing right now.
After her dad’s mess with her oil paints, Jewel had decided to take up acrylics again. And, really, it made perfect sense. With acrylics’ tendency to dry quickly, she had to move fast. And with stints in her studio limited, a faster work pace agreed with her. And it challenged her as an artist too. In the past she’d been guilty of overthinking her creative process, leading to stalling and procrastination. Too worried about the “perfect” outcome and the judgment of others, she’d almost paralyzed her inner artist. Being squeezed on time forced her to just jump in and do it.
But after a couple hours, which had flown by, Jewel was interrupted by the sound of loud voices and angry shouting. Suspecting her dad was involved, she dropped her brush in a jar of water and sprinted outside.
“Stop doing that right now,” Aaron was yelling. “Can you hear me, old man?”
Horrified at the tone Aaron was using, Jewel ran even faster, arriving breathlessly at the new house where there appeared to be some sort of standoff. Aaron, Dad, and Miguel were standing in a triangle, with Aaron’s crew watching on with what looked like amusement.
“What’s going on?” Jewel demanded.
Aaron turned to her with a flushed face. “Your dad has made a big mess.” He pointed down to the deck. The beautiful raw cedar boards were partially painted with the green house paint.
“Uh-oh.” Jewel grimaced.
“He didn’t know.” Miguel stepped closer to her dad. “He thought we wanted that painted too, Jewel. But it’s okay—”
“Okay?” Aaron turned to Miguel with a glowering expression. “How is it okay? And what do you mean we ? What business is this of yours?”
“Miguel’s been helping me paint.” Jewel went over to stand by Miguel, grateful for the progress he’d made with her dad these past few days. They hadn’t actually exchanged words, but Dad hadn’t yelled at him either. He had almost seemed to appreciate Miguel’s help. Baby steps maybe, but progress all the same.
“So Miguel told your dad to paint the cedar boards while we were having a break?” Aaron looked accusingly at Miguel. “Do you plan to replace that wood?”
“If it needs to be replaced.” Miguel rubbed his chin. “But maybe it would make more sense to just get some good heavy-duty deck paint and cover the whole thing.”
“Paint a cedar deck?” Aaron laughed. “It figures you’d want to do that.”
Although Jewel didn’t like the idea of painting the wood, she hated that Aaron was being mean even more. Both to her dad and Miguel. “That’s a great idea.” She nodded. “We can paint it the same color as the stained wood. And it’ll probably be even more durable.”
Aaron shook his head. “Won’t look as good.”
“What do you think, Dad?” she asked him. “Should we paint the deck?”
“Uh-huh.” He nodded.
“Okay then.” She smiled at him. “But I’ll get a different color. And you can paint it, Dad. How about that?”
“Okay.”
“Did you finish in back?”
“Uh-huh.”
She took his brush and bucket. “Well, it’s lunchtime, and I’m sure Mom’s got something all ready for you. You better get in there.”
“Uh-huh.” He narrowed his eyes at Aaron. “My house. I can paint it.”
She patted his back. “That’s right, Dad. It is your house.”
“My house,” he muttered as he walked away.
“Tell Mom I’ll be in later,” she called, knowing full well her dad would forget by the time he got inside. Now she picked up a paint rag. “I’m going to go check on where he painted in back.” As she walked away, she couldn’t help thinking she was slipping away from a powder keg about to explode. Leaving Aaron and Miguel together could be a mistake, or maybe it could be a step toward healing. She could hear male voices as she headed around the house.
She silently prayed for peace as she bent down by the water spigot. Using the damp rag, she attempted to wipe off the gummy paint her dad had slapped on hours earlier. It took a little elbow grease, more water, and several turns of the faucet, but she finally got the spigot working properly. Then she touched up a few missed spots of paint and was just standing up when she heard footsteps. Hoping it was Miguel, she was dismayed to see Aaron approaching.
“Does it work?” he asked.
“Yep.” She turned on the water to prove it.
He scratched the back of his neck. “You really gonna paint that deck?”
“My dad’s going to paint it.”
“Waste of some real pretty wood.”
“Maybe not.” She tossed the rag into a pile of paint things. “I got to thinking how slick a wet wooden deck can be. I think I’ll look for some kind of deck paint that’s not slippery. Not such a fall hazard for my parents.”
He shrugged, then shoved his hands in his pockets. “So Miguel’s been hanging around here?”
“He is our neighbor,” she said defensively. “And my friend. In fact, his daughter Anna, who is also your niece by the way, is very good friends with my daughter. And Marta, Miguel’s mother, has been a good friend to me and my mom.”
“I don’t have anything against my niece or even Marta.” His countenance darkened. “It’s Miguel who disgusts me.”
“Why is that?” She stepped closer, looking him squarely in the eyes. “What did he do that’s so horrible, Aaron?”
“He caused my sister’s death.”
“She died of cancer. How can you possibly blame Miguel for that?”
“She didn’t get the treatment she needed.”
“How do you know that?”
“I know.”
“I don’t understand how you could know that. Or how you could blame Miguel. It’s perfectly ridiculous. It’s like you’ve imprisoned yourself in a jail cell of unforgiveness.”
“If Beth hadn’t been living on that low-life Air Force base, she would’ve gotten better treatment. She would’ve survived.”
“How do you know that?” she demanded.
“I just do.” He looked down.
“Well, I wasn’t around and don’t know the details, but I don’t see how your anger and hatred help anything.” She placed a hand on his arm. “Look, Aaron, I’m sure you loved your sister a lot. And obviously it hurts you that she’s gone. But I wonder how she would feel about how you treat Miguel. And Anna. I’d think it would break her heart.”
Aaron looked at her with misty eyes and humphed. “I dunno. Maybe you’re right.”
“Think about what Beth would want now. For her daughter ... at least.”
He barely nodded. “Okay, I will.”
She sighed, then decided to change the subject. “After all the brouhaha about the deck, I completely forgot to look at the shutters and flower boxes.”
He brightened. “Well, you should come have a little look-see.” He led her around to the front where the crew had gone back to finishing the deck. She stood back and admired the changes.
“I can hardly believe this is the ugly yellow house I saw on your lot a couple weeks ago. It’s downright cute now.”
“Not bad, if I do say so.” He nodded. “How’s everything inside? All the appliances and mechanicals working okay?”
“Care to check it all out?” She led him inside, where the AC was keeping it nice and cool. They walked through and gave everything a good once-over and, as far as they could see, it all worked fine.
“It’s gonna be nice,” he observed.
“I was so glad to hear Dad calling it his house. I’m still not a hundred percent sure he will want to live here with Mom, but I’m hoping.”
“Do you think he even knows where he lives? I mean, no offense, but he seems pretty far gone to me. Surprised you don’t want to put him in some kind of care place.”
She bristled but tried not to show it. “Mom wants to keep him with us as long as possible.”
“Might get to be too much.”
“It might.” She studied him as he looked out the window. He was probably the kind of guy who would put his own folks into assisted living without blinking an eye. And maybe that was okay. For him. But she planned to respect her parents’ wishes as long as she could. And like Mom kept reminding her, they’d take things one day at a time.