Chapter 3 Emilia #2
There was so much that needed to be done that I had to pick and choose priorities—that meant that the work was happening piecemeal.
Thankfully, even though the house was in a state of “work needs to be done now, not later,” it wasn’t quite at “not safe for man or beast.” I could live here while the renovations played out.
It was just…challenging at times. It was a mess, but it was my mess thanks to my grandfather, my Poppy.
He’d gifted me the house to take care of when he moved into an assisted living home.
It was the only way he’d go, knowing that I’d move in and take care of our family legacy.
Our legacy, plus his best friend.
I grabbed two bottles and wine glasses and followed Nora to the backyard, the one spot that was free from upheaval. I’d turned it into the perfect habitat for both my housemate and me, with lush plants and café lights strung above us.
“Hey Win, baby, where are you?”
Turtles got a bad rap for being slow but my man Winston the desert tortoise could haul shell when he was motivated, and saying hello to me was plenty motivating. He appeared from beneath a shrub with half a pink hibiscus blossom hanging out of his mouth.
“Hey there, bud,” I said as I got down on my knees. “Enjoying a snack?”
He stretched his neck out and we booped noses, our standard greeting.
He looked like a wizened old man, but in tortoise calculations Winston was still a toddler at fifteen years old.
My grandfather always joked that Winston was going to outlive him, but given that they could keep kicking until eighty, the truth was that he was probably going to live on long after I was gone.
“I love that dude,” Nora said. “Such a tough guy.”
“Speaking of, I need to show you the new hats I got for him off of Etsy. The flower crown makes people misgender him, so I got a crochet beret, a cowboy hat, and a football helmet.”
“Hey, Winston is confident in his masculinity, let him wear flowers if he wants.”
“True,” I agreed, giving his shell one last scratch. “Okay, where’s my food?”
“More importantly, where’s your drink?” Nora laughed. “Here. Sit.”
She pulled another chair to the small café table and plopped down.
My yard was our only sanctuary given the renovations.
Any time the debris spilled out the back door and threatened the tranquility of it I got itchy.
I didn’t like living in disarray, but I didn’t have a choice.
The work the house needed wasn’t cosmetic.
Without Poppy noticing, things really had gotten worn down over the years in a way that wasn’t dangerous yet but could be in just a few years if I didn’t act now.
This house meant too much to me to allow it to fall apart.
I took a long draw from the glass of pinot. “Ahhh.”
“Yeah, same,” Nora agreed. “Rough day for me as well. Why the hell did I agree to work with Brittany?”
I squinted at her. “Oh no. You too? I got about two dozen texts from her today.”
“I took some shrapnel as well,” she agreed. “She’s now asking for a specific filter on all of her photos. It’s this gross rose tint that’ll make my work look like it was shot by a faux-tographer. I’m trying to talk her out of it but you know Brittany.”
“Whoops.” I scrunched up my nose. “Sorry for referring her to you.”
“Hey, she’s a luxury bride and I can’t argue with the invoice she’s going to pay.”
“That’s a win,” I agreed. “I like to focus on wins when I have a rough day, so what was yours?”
“This,” she replied, gesturing around my little yard. “Being here with you and Win. How about you?”
“Seeing Poppy and giving him a slice of an Ashford Resort chocolate cake. It’s been his favorite since he went to a party there years ago. Any time I’m close I swing by to get him a slice.”
“Um, did you only get a slice for him?” Nora cocked an eyebrow at me.
I laughed. “I bought two for us as well.”
“Nice! I knew I loved you for a reason. How did he seem?”
I paused to consider how the visit had gone.
“He looked pale—I think he doesn’t spend much time outside these days, now that he’s not living with Winston.
But overall he was in decent spirits. He always wants me to show him pictures of the house progress, and I keep having to lie about forgetting to take them.
I don’t want him to get worked up about how slowly everything is going, you know? ”
“Yeah, but you’ve got a windfall in your future, right? The guy from reality TV and his actress girlfriend?”
I held up both hands and crossed my fingers. “They are so close to signing. And the beauty of it is more than just a paycheck, it’s the exposure. The Carten-stans will do anything she says, and if she gives me a shout-out I’ll be golden.”
Nora pulled a face. “I’m sorry, what did you just say?”
“I hate that you ignore pop culture,” I pretended to kick her. “Their names are Kristen and Carter, so their fans call them ‘Carten.’”
“And what’s a ‘stan’?”
“Oh my gosh, you’re a literal grandma,” I laughed at her.
“I am,” she said in a crotchety voice, hunching over and grabbing her back. “Leave me and my husband alone.”
Nora hobbled over to Winston and sat down beside him, and for a few minutes I managed to forget about my upside-down house, and high-maintenance clients, and grumpy strangers, and focus instead on the joy of a good friend and a devoted beast.