Chapter 33
THE DEATH OF THE MURDER BASEMENT
Early in the morning on Christmas Day, Barry woke me with light kisses on my shoulder.
It was too early to wake up when neither of us had to work, and I groaned in protest. Barry laughed lightly and brushed hair off my face.
We both had stinky morning breath, but he leaned down and pressed a long, soft kiss against my lips.
I could have sunk right back to sleep then and there.
Barry had other plans.
“Come on, I have a surprise for you.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“What kind of surprise?”
“You’ll just have to see.” Barry kissed my cheek and then got out of the bed. He was already dressed in a hoodie and sweats instead of the boxers he usually went to bed with, and he picked up a travel mug from the dresser and held it out toward me.
I rubbed my eyes and sat up.
“How long have you been up? Is that coffee?” He held it out to me, which is when I saw the peppermint tea bag string hanging out the side. He was just as bad as Kate. “You’re no fun.”
I took a sip anyway and was charmed that he added way too much honey again. Almost undrinkable in its sweetness.
“Come on,” he coaxed. He’d already laid out a pair of sweats and a sweater for me too, and I let him help pull them up my legs and over my head even though I was more than capable of dressing myself.
He pulled thick socks onto my feet and, with a few kisses on Junior’s head, we were set to go.
Chloe would sleep in for hours yet, lucky girl.
We listened to Christmas music playing on the radio as we drove, and he parked in the driveway of my house as the sun just crested over the mountains. I looked at him in question, but he said nothing, only got out of the car and rushed to my side to open it for me.
As our breaths fogged in front of us, I followed him to the front door instead of where we usually entered from the kitchen. As soon as he opened the door, my breath caught.
“What—”
Barry took my hand and pulled me over the threshold while my eyes raced to take in all these details I wasn’t understanding.
Through the living room, the flooring was newly installed, these perfect, light wood planks.
I stepped on it gingerly, and marveled that it wasn’t so creaky as it was before.
I crossed the living room to the place that had the most damage, but the bathroom was completely transformed.
The walls were back in place, new drywall, and already mudded, too—it just needed paint.
The tub was replaced with the new one I’d picked, walls also fresh and ready for the tile that had been sitting in boxes in the garage, now stacked up next to where the new toilet would go.
“I thought you’d want to supervise the tile installation,” Barry explained. Speechless, I only smiled, because he was right. “Come on.”
I took his outstretched hand and followed him into the kitchen, which was the most transformed room by far.
The mock-up I had done for the custom cabinets I picked last summer was reflected perfectly, flooring installed, dark wood cabinets installed, and new countertop all in place.
Plus, the new appliances I wanted but thought I wouldn’t get for years shone in just the spots I wanted them.
My eyes watered as I looked at the kitchen I dreamed of but didn’t know how to accomplish, not when I had a baby to pay for, a car I needed, every expensive thing that would have made getting to this part in the project impossible for years.
Barry clicked a light switch—the one with my grandma’s hand painted light cover I always loved—and recessed lighting lit the space from a new kitchen ceiling. No more outdated tiles and yellowed lights.
When he clicked them off, the light of the morning filtered in from the window over the sink and cast its glow on the new kitchen.
I didn’t know how he did this, didn’t know this much work was possible in such a short time. It wouldn’t have been without him, the world seemed to bend over backward at the cheerful whims of Barry Wright.
“Barry,” I started, voice wobbling.
He closed the distance between us and pulled me to him, my face immediately falling against his chest.
“Please don’t be mad at me,” he whispered against my hair.
I laughed and let my arms come up around his waist.
“I’m not mad at you. I’m just in shock, maybe.”
“There are like two more surprises. Three. Can you handle that?”
“I don’t know if I can.” I sniffled, and Barry’s smile was all mischief as he pulled away and led me through the living room to my bedroom.
The floor had also been replaced in here, my belongings stacked in plastic totes on the new floor or on top of the dresser.
My old bed was gone, the bed frame too, and in its place was one of those fancy mattresses rolled up in a box.
“Is this…”
“Thought your two-hundred-dollar mattress should retire. This one’s the same as mine.”
I gasped and really did jump at this news. He scrunched his nose and laughed, then wrapped his arms around me from behind.
“You have to pick out a bed frame, though.”
With the new floors, I imagined a fresh coat of paint on the walls and trim, a dark wood bed frame, maybe new nightstands. And then, after it all, I would have a glorious bed to sleep on.
“Thank you, Barry.”
He rested his chin on my head before waddling us out of the room and toward the basement door.
“Can you stand another surprise?”
I didn’t know if I could, but we were already in this, so I detangled from his long arms and opened the door.
I gasped at the sight that greeted me; it didn’t even look like the same house.
Instead of the wooden stairs that had creaked beneath my feet since I could walk, the stairway had new drywall and entirely new treads, wood like the rest of the floor, and I was already excited to find the perfect carpet runner to install.
A row of lights sat recessed into the new ceiling instead of the one creepy bulb that lit the space previously.
“How did you do this?” I breathed when I reached the bottom of the stairs. Instead of an unfinished basement, the space was framed and walled up exactly how I’d planned: a long living room space, two empty rooms, a bathroom, a storage closet, and—
“Oh my God.”
I pushed open a new door to reveal a laundry room, complete with a very new washer and dryer uninstalled in the middle of the room.
“The laundry situation was a hazard,” he said before I could speak. “Now you won’t have to risk breaking your tailbone when you want clean clothes.”
“This is insane, I’m—how did you get this done?” I asked again, still floored by the way my old house had been completely transformed. “Seriously, how did you make this happen?”
“Good contractors, really eager rookies, and your family, too. Workhorses. Ron did all the electrical.”
I didn’t have words, just stared shocked at him before clicking on and off the new light switches, illuminating the basement that I thought of only in the abstract. He’d created the perfect canvas for me to make tangible the dreams I’d had for years.
“I didn’t pick floor or paints of course, but as soon as you have them decided, I have a couple contractors on standby to do what you need. Or we’ll do it.”
“Barry…” I felt my eyes welling with tears, and Barry closed the distance between us again with that soft, nervous smile. I wanted to pinch his cheeks, shrink him and put him in my pocket, hug him, shake him, tell him never to buy something for me ever again, thank him in every way I knew how.
“There’s one more.”
“What? The one more was the laundry,” I protested. “No more. Barry, I spent like thirty dollars on your present.”
It was a baseball hat that said “dad” in tiny lowercase and a sweater I thought might look nice on him. It was not a home renovation, a new bed, and whatever the third surprise was, not even a comparison of apples to oranges, it was like trying to compare apples to dusty peanuts.
“Last one,” he said. “Promise.”
He led me out of the basement, through the house to the back door, and outside. Heading straight for the garage is when I started getting really scared.
“Please say you didn’t.”
“Okay,” Barry agreed as put his hand on the garage’s side door. “I didn’t.”
When he swung the door open, though, he absolutely fucking had.
Sitting in the middle of the garage, fitting into the old space like a princess in a barn, was a brand-new car.
Kate must’ve fed him information, the little traitor, because it was exactly the one I wanted—a dusty blue crossover that would make loading in a baby much easier than my old two-door Jeep.
It was perfect. And way, way too expensive.
“Barry,” I started, not even sure where to begin with the cocktail of mixed emotions going on inside me.
“Please, please accept it,” he started before I could protest. “I’ve been working hard without someone to spend money on for years, and it’s not just for you, but for your baby who, if you’ll remember, is also my baby.”
“You are so difficult,” I murmured.
“Oh Harvey, you are much more stubborn than me.”
“It’s too much,” I said, without any real fight behind it. Barry pulled his lower lip between his teeth and shook his head.
“Nothing is too much for you.”
“But—”
“Sweetheart, when will you get that I would build you a whole house from nothing? Two—three of them, whatever you want. A fleet of cars. I’ve been trying to tell you that. I would happily spend every cent I have on you. I wouldn’t bat an eye, wouldn’t ask a question.”
He grabbed my hips and pulled me as close as my baby bump would allow. The tears that had been misting in my eyes spilled over, and I swiped at my cheeks.
“Why?”
Barry shook his head.
“You know why.”
My voice fell to a whisper. “You can’t mean that.”
“How could you think I don’t?” Barry pressed his forehead firmly against mine. He couldn’t mean it, though, right? That he loved me?
Reasonably, I knew—he was right, how could I not? When he showed me every day, in every look, every gesture, every time his eyes went soft when he saw me at one of his games? Of course I knew. Everyone with eyes knew.
I stepped away from him and looked back at the car instead of responding. Peering through the back window, I saw the car seat we picked out was already installed. The car, everything about it, was perfect.
“Thank you, Barry,” I said finally. “For everything.”
Barry took a long breath, relief evident on his face that I wasn’t going to fight him on his levels of generosity like I did the last time we were in this garage together.
He didn’t press the topic of love, or us, only kissed my head and rubbed soothing paths up and down my arms.
“Merry Christmas, Hannah.” Barry pulled a pair of car keys from his pocket and held them out toward me. “What do you think, should we take it around?”
I sighed and plucked them from his palm. “You know, I guess we should.”