Chapter 27
BARRY WRIGHT’S PITCH DECK
Barry made a PowerPoint convincing me why I should let him pay for additional renovations while we were already out of the house for the mold remediation.
His hockey skills were much better than his PowerPoint skills, but I appreciated the effort. And also, the stock images of happy families.
He listed four big projects that were on my eventually list, including refinishing the hardwood floors, new carpet in the bedrooms, recessed lighting in the kitchen, and the basement drywall.
He argued there would never be a better time to knock out these projects than before the baby came when I could stay at his apartment.
It would open up opportunities for me to do so, so many of the projects, and would also mean staying in his massive, luxury apartment for an extra few weeks.
He listed reasons I should let him pay for it, one on each slide, including, “I wanna,” “I’m kind of rich,” and “I agree with you that the current floor stain is ugly.” The last reason just said “Please!” and when he reached the final slide (THANK YOU in large text off-center of the screen), I was reluctantly very convinced.
I sat back on the couch, Junior sleeping next to me, and took a big breath. “If you asked me to pay you back, I wouldn’t be able to. Like for a very long time.”
“I would never ask it of you.”
He held his hands together, pleading, looking so cute, and also wearing no shirt, which I think was actually a tactic. I sighed.
“Fine. Yes.” Barry jumped. “Thank you, Barry.”
“Don’t say thank you yet.” Barry leaned to his laptop and clicked the space bar, revealing another slide with a stock image of a man smiling in front of a washer and dryer. “Please, dear God, let me do the laundry room.”
“Barry—”
“Please! Let it be a gift to me,” he said. “I don’t want to slip and hurt myself when I’m trying to do one of the fifteen batches of laundry that the baby will need done per day. I’m a hockey player, I must protect my knees.”
“Fifteen batches a day?”
“Okay, a week,” he acquiesced.
I exhaled a laugh, and he kneeled in front of me. I let him take my hands in his and laughed louder at the exaggerated puppy eyes he gave me.
“Pleeease, Hannah, the sooner you say yes, the sooner we can move back into your house, which is nicer than mine in every way.”
“Not nicer in the water pressure way,” I said.
“Not yet,” he agreed.
“You’re moving back in, too?”
When will we stop whatever this is? When will you tire of me? I didn’t ask.
Barry took it in stride, not missing a beat. “Please let me. I can stay in the workshop room, or in the new room in the basement. Out of your way but close enough that I’ll be able to help with the baby all the time.”
It made my stomach flip to think of him moving back in with me, but I had to agree with him that co-parenting an infant would be much easier if we were under the same roof.
And I could at least admit that Barry wasn’t a bad roommate.
In fact, he was maybe the best roommate I’d ever had.
Though my roommates weren’t great previously, like the bar was low.
“And what about this place?”
“I can rent it out. Or keep it open in case you get sick of me. We can take it three months at a time. I want to be as close as I can be for as long as I can.”
“And if you start dating someone?”
Barry looked at me like I was being willfully daft, but it was a valid question. I’d heard girls at the games talking about how hot he is, seen fan edits of him being hot online.
“Harvey,” he whined, exasperated. “Come on.”
I shrugged. “You could start dating at any time, I wouldn’t stop you. Lots of women and men would love to date you.”
“Yes, but I don’t want to date any of them.” He sat back on his heels, but kept my hands gripped in his. “I know you’re waiting to see if I mean what I say, if I’m being real about my feelings, if my judgement is clouded, but one day you will.”
I said nothing but chewed on the inside of my cheek.
“You’ll see. And I’ll wait.” He pushed onto his feet and pressed a kiss to my head in a way he’d gotten way too comfortable doing. I never said anything about it.
“So can we please do it, please? My plan?”
I sighed a long dramatic sound and nodded.
“Fine. But if you offer to pay rent again after this, I will punch you, and I’m stronger than I look.”
“I don’t doubt that,” he said, already getting out his phone, presumably to start calling in contractors. He was nothing if not efficient.