Chapter 22
Chapter
Twenty-Two
I t’s not that big a deal.” Steve shook with fury. “I quit.”
“It is that big of a deal. The correct tile was clearly marked on the work order.” Maxwell kept his voice level. “I would rather you didn’t leave.”
“Right, you won’t find another sucker to work up here in these conditions.”
As if. “I have connections.” Back in Chicago. Getting someone out here might take a bit of juggling, but Maxwell would do it if Steve followed through on his threat. The thing was, the two batches of tile for the two cottages were distinct enough so as not to be interchangeable. He could have had Janessa repaint, but the tile also had to match the cabinetry and countertops and, apparently, the flooring.
“Like I said, I quit. You want that tile removed, do it yourself.” Steve glared and pivoted on his booted heel before striding back into the cottage.
The guy might be a talented tiler, but he was full of himself. Janessa teased Maxwell about the same thing. Was he really anything like Steve? He hoped not. Prayed not.
As for the threat that Maxwell needed to do it himself… he could. Back in their early days, he’d been hands-on in every aspect of the flips. He could fix the botched tile job himself if required, but it would cut into his time managing the remainder of the project and certainly cut into his time with Eryn.
He needed a tiler on payroll. They had too many cottages to upgrade, and then there were the repairs in the campground restrooms. As maintenance foreman, Jude had put in a work requisition for upgrades there before leaving for flight school in Chicago. Those needed to be completed before Memorial Day.
Steve exited the cottage, carrying his tile saw.
Drat. Maxwell had left his own tools in Chicago. Hadn’t figured he’d need them with a tiler onsite. He’d need to get Grandfather’s assistant to ship those out asap. Thankfully, the storage locker had a punch code and didn’t require a key. The delay would still set him back all week, but it couldn’t be helped.
With a glare Maxwell’s direction, Steve stomped back to the cottage and inside, no doubt for the remainder of his tools.
And Maxwell was going to stand right here and make sure the guy didn’t take anything extra. He tapped Grandfather’s office number.
“Sullivan Enterprises, Tammy speaking.”
“Hey, Tammy. This is Maxwell.” He outlined what he needed from her and answered her questions. Good thing he was organized enough to know everything was in a couple of clearly marked boxes on the lefthand shelf near the back.
“You’ve got it, Maxwell. I’ll send someone over this afternoon and let you know the shipping info when I’ve got it.”
“Thanks. I owe you one.” He tapped to end the call just as Steve jumped in his truck and roared down Ladybug Lane. Then he called Graham and asked for Steve’s final compensation to be calculated and mailed, along with his record of employment.
Now, he needed to face the remainder of his team and begin removing the tile. Figuring out how to get a replacement workman out here was going to be a problem for later.
Janessa met him inside the door, hands on her hips. “You fired him?”
“He quit.”
She spat some ugly words under her breath. “Of course, he’d quit rather than own up to his mistake. Now what?”
“Now I tear out the tile.” He rolled up the sleeves of his flannel shirt.
“You?” Her eyebrows tilted upward.
“Do you see anyone else who can do it? Of course, me.” She hadn’t been around in the early years, or she wouldn’t have implied he didn’t know what he was doing.
“Right.” She backed away, hands up in surrender. “Just don’t make it any worse.”
Was he still going to need to sack someone today? He’d been ready to fire Steve if needed, but the decision had been made for him. He was still itching.
“Janessa? I’m the boss. I can do every job a reno like this calls for. I have done them all many times. That includes picking colors and painting walls.” Was the threat clear enough?
“Yes, boss.” She offered a half-hearted salute and turned to the door. “I’ll just be over in Cottage Four if you need me for anything.”
“Bring me a plate from lunch when you go down.” It was going to be a few hours before he’d worked out his frustrations. Handy that bashing tile was on his agenda.
“Your girlfriend will miss seeing you.”
“I’ll catch her later. First things first.”
That’s what Dad would have said, right? Work was the priority over everything else. And look where that had gotten James Sullivan.
Maxwell selected his tools, donned a pair of goggles, laid a protective sheet over the granite counter, and began tapping at the edge of the tile. What a shame, since Steve had done great work. But was it great work if the wrong outcome had been achieved?
What did he have to look forward to at the end of his life? Well done, good and faithful servant ? Or would it be more along the lines of, you failed, because you worked really hard with rapt attention to all the wrong details ?
Tap, tap, tap.
But this was his job! With Steve gone, it was up to Maxwell to make sure things got done.
He snorted. Tapped some more. There really was no way to remove these things without breaking them. Yeah, he’d hoped, even though he knew better. So far, only one tile had popped off whole. Probably’d had an air pocket in the mortar.
Broken tiles lay on the counter. Somehow, they looked like his life.
Did they have to? Or could he salvage the tiles of his life without wrecking them? Then again, mosaics were a thing. In life and in renovations, that broken look wasn’t the high-end result he was going for, though.
Maxwell became aware of Janessa in the bathroom doorway. She cleared her throat. “Hate to tell you, boss, but they can’t get any more of this tile.”
He froze, his tool poised on the edge of a tile. “You said they could.”
“Yeah, the retailer’s inventory said there were enough boxes, but when warehouse went to grab them, they couldn’t find them anywhere. They hunted end-over-end and now assume the tiles were sold and someone forgot to update inventory. They sent out a call to other stores in the network, and no one has any.”
Looked like they were making a mosaic, after all.
Lemonade out of smashed lemons and all that.
“Maxwell wants a lunch to go.” Janessa stared across the counter at Eryn.
Was that smugness? Or was it pity?
Eryn shook it off and lifted her chin. “I’ll get it ready.” Serving meals was her job, after all. But she hadn’t seen him since breakfast yesterday, and she’d tried not to notice him then.
Had Dad scared him off so thoroughly that he’d run blind without even telling her he was through? It didn’t make sense. Not the man who’d kissed her sweetly and promised to pursue her through thick and thin.
Whichever this was, he wasn’t here. He wasn’t pursuing. He was most notably absent.
She poured soup into a snap-lid glass container, fixed a sandwich, and put both into a small, insulated lunch bag, which she passed to Janessa. “Here you go.”
“Aren’t you going to ask where he is and why he’s not here?”
“I figured you’d tell me if he asked you to.”
“You two.” Janessa rolled her eyes. “We’ve been having trouble with Steve on the jobsite, and he quit this morning. Maxwell is trying to fix Steve’s mistake.”
“I see.” Of course, it would be work pulling Maxwell’s attention. He’d warned her he was a workaholic, but he always came for meals. Didn’t he realize she’d wonder about his absence? Wasn’t that how he said his parents’ marriage had unraveled? His dad spent all his time at work until his mom had enough of being ignored.
Eryn had met Maribel, who seemed nice enough, but she hadn’t met James. Both would be visiting over Thanksgiving, along with Maxwell’s grandfather and others. It sounded like it should be an interesting weekend… especially if this continued.
“Maxwell doesn’t mean to get wrapped up in his work. It just happens.”
Was Janessa still here?
Eryn managed a smile. “I understand. You should get that to him while it’s still hot. I’m sorry he’s having a bad day.” No, she didn’t comprehend, but she wasn’t going to vent her frustration on Maxwell’s employee. Or to anyone else, because no one ever understood, anyway.
Amelia’s face mocked her.
Eryn banished it.
“Okay, thanks. See you around.” Janessa grabbed the cooler and followed Tory and Jordan out of the dining hall.
“Are you okay?” Paisley stood in the spot Janessa had vacated. “Didn’t Maxwell show up for lunch today, either?”
Eryn hated pity. “Janessa said one of the workers quit, and he’s sorting out the situation.”
“Why don’t you go up there and talk to him? Remind him there’s life beyond the renovation?”
“Are you kidding me?” Eryn pulled back.
“Why not?” Paisley lowered her voice. “You want that guy, you have to go after him. Don’t let him shut you out. Prove to him you’re a good listener, but more than that? That you’re worth spending time with.”
“I’m not brave like you.” Because wasn’t that how Paisley had caught Weston, according to the stories?
“It’s not bravery. Not really. It’s knowing your own value and holding onto it.”
“That’s easy, then. I don’t have much worth.”
“Girl! So not true.”
“It is.” Tears stung Eryn’s eyes. “And I should get back to helping Nadine clean up now.”
“You’re off in ten minutes?” Paisley stared at her until Eryn finally nodded. “I’m gonna fix myself a cup of tea and sit right over there. And then you are going to get a cup of tea and sit across from me and tell me what’s going on. I’m not budging until you do. Got it?”
Eryn’s protest died on her lips when she took in the fierce gleam in Paisley’s eyes. She’d never had anyone fight for her like this before. It terrified her… but it was also somewhat gratifying. “Okay.”
She turned back into the kitchen, but Nadine waved her away. “Go on early. It’s not a problem. There’s not much cleanup left to do, anyway.”
“Are you sure?”
“Oh, honey, I’m sure. You look like you need a friend, and if Paisley can be that for you, then I’m all for it. She’s been so good for my boy.”
Those blasted tears were pricking again. “Thanks.” She gave Nadine an impulsive hug.
The woman hugged her back. “If you ever need to talk to someone older, I’m right here. And that’s not because I rather like your father.” Nadine winked.
That was all kinds of awkward. “Okay. Thanks.” But what would happen if Dad and Nadine got serious? That would make Nadine her stepmom. Weston and Jude, whom she hadn’t met yet, her stepbrothers. Weird.
Paisley had overheard Nadine, because she pointed to two mugs of tea on the table.
Eryn hurried over and yanked the teabag out of one of them. How anyone could drink it as potent as Paisley could was beyond her. She scooped in a little honey and gave it a stir as she sat down.
“Talk to me,” Paisley ordered. “Why don’t you think you’re worthwhile? Because that’s not what Jesus says.”
“I know. It’s just… can you keep this confidential?”
“Of course. I’m almost offended you would think you needed to ask.”
“I had a twin sister, Amelia. She…” Eryn gathered a breath. “She hated me and made my life miserable since we were babies. She was careful that our parents didn’t notice, but I’m sure they knew we weren’t best friends or anything like that.”
Paisley bit her lip but gestured for Eryn to keep going.
“She died in a car crash a couple of years ago now. You’d think I’d feel free, but I’ve felt so much guilt being the one left behind. Everyone liked her. Me? Not so much.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how that all made you feel.”
“Everyone assumes we were a tight unit because we were twins. But we were never close, even though I wanted it. She always pushed me away. Belittled me. I could never do anything right.”
“And that stuck with you and became how you saw yourself.”
Eryn stared into her mug. It was hard to deny.
“You know that’s not how God sees you, right?”
“I know,” Eryn whispered. “It just seems His voice isn’t as loud in my head as Amelia’s.” And she knew why. “Actually… is there a place I can have a bonfire?”
Paisley blinked. “Pardon me? I missed a transition somewhere.”
“I know why her voice is louder, and I have some things I need to burn.”
“I’m still not following.”
“Her journals.” Shame flushed Eryn’s cheeks. “I found them just before we moved here, and I’ve been reading them. I know I shouldn’t. First, because they were hers and therefore private. But also, because she kept recording what a loser I am.” She wasn’t about to mention Amelia’s obsession with Maxwell. That wasn’t really the point. Not anymore.
“If they have paper or cardboard covers, we can burn them in the fireplace here.”
“They do.”
“I’ll come with you to get them. Let’s go right now.”
Eryn quaked. What if she wanted to read a few more entries? Maybe she should have sampled a diary from a few years later than junior high.
“Eryn?”
“Okay. Let’s do it.” She’d still need to figure out what was up with Maxwell, but quieting Amelia’s voice would be helpful to her mental health, at least. Even if it didn’t change anything else.