Chapter 28
Again, apologies for any mistakes.
Enjoy??
~Y
"Hold it straight!"
"No, we need to organize first!"
This was far more entertaining that Seraphina had initially thought. For the past five minutes, she watched as William had been trying to start building, while Elowyn argued that they needed to organize everything first.
Elowyn was obviously the correct one.
"Okay, fine. You're right, let's organize," William finally relented.
William dropped to his knees, his hands working quickly to rip open the cardboard flaps. He began pulling out pieces of wood and bags of hardware, scattering them across the floor with reckless abandon.
Elowyn however, immediately began swatting his hands away, meticulously grouping the boards by size and lining up the plastic baggies of screws in a neat, descending order.
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"You're making a mess," she scolded, sliding a long, thin board away from his chaotic pile.
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"Sorry," William slowed his pace and began organizing correctly.
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Seraphina watched from the couch, a faint, amused smile playing on her lips as she observed the miniature civil war unfolding on the floor.
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After several minutes of clinking metal and shuffling wood, the living room floor looked like a catalog exploded. Elowyn finally stood up and gestured triumphantly at the organized rows. "See? Now we can actually see what we're working with."
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William nodded in agreement, grabbing the thick instruction manual that had been buried at the bottom of the box.
He flipped it open with the confidence of a seasoned contractor, his eyes scanning the first page.
Suddenly, he froze. His brows knit together, then he flipped the page, then flipped it back again.
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"What?" Elowyn asked, her smile faltering slightly.
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William looked up at her, his expression sheepish. "It says we need tools... do we even have those here?" He looked around the empty living room, then back at the manual.
Elowyn let out a frustrated sigh, her hands going to her hips. "My dad keeps some extras in the garage, I can go grab them," she turned on her heel and pointed sharply at Seraphina. "Don't follow me. I can do it myself," she commanded before disappearing down the hallway.
"How long do we have before the food gets here?" William asked Seraphina, who had placed the order a few minutes prior.
"About twenty to thirty minutes."
William rubbed his hands together, looking down at the instruction booklet with renewed determination. "Twenty to thirty minutes?" He nodded to himself. "Plenty of time to build a coat rack and absolutely shatter your painfully low expectations of me."
Seraphina rested her elbow against the arm of the sofa. "You've spent the better part of fifteen minutes arguing with Elowyn over where to even begin."
"And?" William looked up. "At least we communicate."
"Sure," Seraphina replied evenly. "If bickering back and forth is your idea of communication."
William placed a hand over his chest, thoroughly offended. "Wow. You really wake up every morning and choose violence."
"No. I wake up every morning hoping people possess common sense. Unfortunately, you keep proving that hope to be misplaced."
William let out a dramatic scoff before lowering his gaze to the instruction booklet again. The confidence on his face lasted all of three seconds before his eyebrows slowly pulled together.
"...Why is this thing all pictures?"
"Because assembling furniture doesn't typically require a novel," Seraphina looked at him without an ounce of sympathy.
"I disagree. Give me words. Give me bullet points. Give me emotional support. Don't hand me cave paintings and expect me to thrive," William looked back down at the instruction manual, flipping through the pages with growing suspicion.
"You know," he muttered, "I always forget furniture companies assume everyone has tools just lying around."
"Most homeowners do," Seraphina replied, her attention drifting toward the hallway Elowyn had disappeared down.
"Well the basic ones, sure. But what the hell is a Phillip?"
"Is that your attempt at a joke?" Seraphina asked dryly.
"What do you mean?" William looked up, genuinely confused.
The muffled sound of cabinets opening and closing echoed from the garage, followed by the unmistakable clatter of metal.
"Ellie?" William called. "You still alive?"
"Yes!" her voice floated back. "I'm looking!"
"Don't lift anything heavy!"
"I'm not!"
Seraphina arched a brow. "You do realize telling her not to lift anything heavy is practically an invitation."
"True," William grimaced.
Another loud clank rang out, followed by a frustrated little huff.
William started to stand, but before he could take more than a step, Elowyn reappeared in the hallway carrying a bright red toolbox with both hands. It wasn't enormous, but it was bulky enough that she had to hold it against her stomach.
"Found it," she announced proudly, setting it on the floor with a solid thud.
"Perfect. Bob the Builder is officially back in business," William rubbed his hands together.
"So... what do we do first?" Elowyn looked at him expectantly.
William slowly looked down at the instruction booklet, then at the pile of wooden boards spread neatly across the floor. "...I was actually hoping you'd know."
"Um... well what do the instructions say?"
"We need a Phillips."
"Phillips? What is that?" Elowyn tilted her head.
"A screwdriver," Seraphina rubbed her forehead in disbelief. "A basic tool, Mr. Bennett."
"Ah, there it is," William exclaimed, flipping through the instructions. "The word "screwdriver" was on the next page," he chuckled.
"There's a bunch of screwdrivers," Elowyn said, already kneeling on the floor going through the tools. "Is it the plus or the minus one?"
"The plus one, sweetheart," Seraphina answered from her spot on the sofa. "My offer still stands to hire someone if you'd like. I can take the remainder of the day off."
"Nope. I'm gonna do it myself."
"Why did they name him Phillip?" Elowyn turned to Will, already distracted. "What's the minus one's name?"
"I think that one is called a flathead," he answered.
"How boring. Why does this guy get a name and this one is just called flathead?"
"Let's name it," William proposed.
"Yes! What should his name be?"
Seraphina made no effort to interrupt, allowing the conversation to wander wherever it pleased. Only seconds ago the two of them had been searching for the correct screwdriver, and now they were treating the flathead as though it had suffered a lifelong injustice by never being given a proper name.
Elowyn had completely forgotten the task at hand, her full attention devoted to the new dilemma with earnest concentration. The ease with which the girl's mind leapt from one thought to the next never failed to draw a smile from Seraphina.
"I've got it," William announced, snapping his fingers. "His name is Greg."
"Why Greg?"
"Because he looks like he'd be named Greg."
Elowyn looked down at the screwdriver, studying it with complete seriousness. "...I can see that."
"Exactly," William nodded. "Phillip is the dependable older brother who gets all the attention, and Greg has been living in his shadow for years."
"That's really sad."
"It is. Justice for Greg."
"Hello, Greg," Elowyn held up the flathead.
William reached over and gave the handle a reassuring pat. "You're appreciated here, buddy."
Seraphina closed her eyes for a second, silently questioning how a simple coat rack had somehow turned into a rehabilitation program for neglected screwdrivers.
"Okay," Elowyn said, setting Greg down with surprising care. "Let's start building."
William pulled the first board into his lap and spread the instruction booklet between them. "Step one. We need panel A, panel B, Phillip, and-"
"And Greg," Elowyn corrected.
"...And Greg," William agreed without hesitation.
Elowyn lowered her eyes to the instructions again. "We need these screws," she murmured, scooting across the floor to grab the correct plastic bag from the neatly organized pile. She pinched the top seam between her fingers and pulled. The plastic stretched but refused to tear.
From the sofa, Seraphina caught Elowyn once again side eyeing her, and instead of asking for help, the girl quietly turned her back and tried again on her own.
Elowyn stared at the bag for another second then glanced at Will ready to ask him for help, but he was busy lining up the panels.
Letting out the smallest sigh, she waddled across the floor on her knees until she reached the sofa and held the bag up toward Seraphina.
"Can you please open this for me?"
Seraphina took the bag from Elowyn's hand, her fingers making quick work of the stubborn plastic before handing it back.
"Thank you," Elowyn murmured.
Instead of returning to William, she sat down onto the floor right where she was, her legs folding beneath her while her shoulder settled against Seraphina's knee.
The absent-minded contact went entirely unnoticed by the girl while she tipped the screws into her palm, comparing them to the illustration in the instruction booklet before reaching for Greg.
Seraphina's attention lingered on the spot where Elowyn rested against her before slowly lifting to the top of the girl's head, trying to contain her smile.
Until a strangled, muffled noise broke the silence making her look up.
Across the room, William sat frozen with one hand clamped firmly over his mouth, his eyes glistening as he stared at the pair. He looked seconds away from dissolving into tears all over again.
The woman met his stare and without a word, she leveled him with a flat, unimpressed look which earned her a tiny, trembling thumbs-up from him.
She rolled her eyes and looked back down at Elowyn, refusing to indulge whatever emotional catastrophe Mr. Bennett had manufactured in his own head this time.