10. Stryker #2
I carry another box upstairs while trying not to think about how much easier working from home makes things for her here. Safer too.
The thought comes automatically now. Everything with her does.
By noon the house somehow looks simultaneously more lived in and more destroyed. Half-built furniture crowds the living room while open boxes cover every surface. Paxton races room to room treating the entire situation like an adventure.
Nora’s trying to organize kitchen supplies while also answering work onboarding emails and keeping track of Paxton, all at the same time.
Which means she’s stretched too thin already. I notice it right before the accident happens.
Paxton tears down the hallway carrying crayons and a stuffed dinosaur while Nora calls after him to slow down.
Then his foot catches. The raised floorboard near the hallway entrance lifts sharply beneath him and suddenly he’s hitting the ground hard enough that the sound echoes through the house.
Everything stops. For half a second there’s silence. Then Paxton cries, actual hurt crying. Loud enough that every muscle in my body locks instantly. Nora’s already moving before I fully process it, dropping beside him while panic flashes hard across her face.
“Baby, let me see.” I know she’s worried and overwhelmed because she doesn’t sign her words to him as her hands are busy checking over his knees
Blood spots his scraped knee immediately. It’s a small injury. Nothing serious, but that really doesn’t matter. Paxton’s crying like the world ended and something savage twists violently in my chest watching it happen.
Blade kneels beside them immediately, calmer than the rest of us already are. He signs gently toward Paxton while checking the knee carefully.
You are okay. Your knee looks worse than it really is. Let’s get it bandaged okay?
Paxton nods through hiccup cries and Nora is up grabbing the first aid kit to bring it to him. Viper crouches beside him next making exaggerated horrified expressions toward the evil floor. Paxton hiccups hard enough to accidentally laugh mid-cry.
Which somehow makes me angrier at the fucking hallway.
Before I consciously decide anything, I’m in the hallway on my knees, grabbing the damaged board with both hands. It rips upward violently.
Nora startles hard enough to look up at me, wide-eyed, while I crouch beside the exposed flooring. Rot underneath. Loose support beam. Totally unsafe.
Absolutely fucking not.
“Where’s your toolbox?” I ask.
She blinks once. “My what?”
Right. She wouldn’t own one. Of course she doesn’t own one.
Viper glances up immediately. “Garage?”
“There isn’t one,” Nora says, shaking her head, as she catches up with our conversation.
I stand, already pulling my phone out. “I’ll be back.”
Nora stares after me while Blade continues calming Paxton and Viper somehow turns the entire situation into an elaborate investigation against “criminal flooring activity.”
Twenty minutes later, I have half the hallway ripped apart.
I came back with tools from the clubhouse to find Viper sitting cross-legged beside Paxton teaching him how to properly use a tiny plastic hammer somebody found in one of the shipped boxes.
Blade’s applying antibiotic cream carefully while Paxton explains the injury through dramatic signing as if we didn’t all see. His hero’s journey story I guess.
“Nasty hallway attacked him,” Blade translates solemnly.
Viper nods seriously and speaks for Blade to translate. “We may never recover emotionally.”
Paxton giggles again. Nora stands nearby watching all of us with that same overwhelmed expression she keeps getting around the four of us together.
“You really don’t have to rebuild my house,” she says quietly, while I measure replacement boards.
I glance up at her briefly. “Kid got hurt.”
“Yes, because the house is old.”
“Exactly. So I’m fixing it.”
She opens her mouth like she wants to argue further. Then Paxton holds up his tiny hammer proudly and signs, I will helping fix the hallway now.
That ends the conversation apparently. Hours pass strangely fast after that.
Blade cooks grilled cheese for everyone because the kitchen’s still mostly boxed up. Viper and Paxton hand me tools with wildly varying levels of usefulness. Nora eventually stops protesting entirely and just starts helping where she can.
By evening, the hallway’s repaired. Reinforced too, because once I started noticing problems in the flooring I couldn’t stop. Viper fixed loose stair railing screws while Blade replaced two bad outlets downstairs.
The house already feels sturdier and safer and…
Mine flashes through my head unexpectedly while watching Paxton proudly inspect the repaired floor with his toy hammer.
I shove the thought away immediately. Outside, dusk settles slowly over Black Rock while Nora walks us toward the front door looking exhausted in a softer way now.
“Thank you,” she says quietly.
None of us answer immediately because gratitude from her still lands too hard. Behind her, Paxton yawns hugely before signing goodnight toward us.
Goodnight. Thank you for helping us today.
Blade crouches automatically so he’s eye level again before signing carefully back. Sleep well tonight. We will see you tomorrow.
Paxton beams immediately. I watch Nora from the doorway while she watches Blade communicate with her son so naturally already. Something vulnerable shifts briefly across her face before she smooths it away again.
Then she notices me watching. The moment holds for half a second too long, but neither of us acknowledge it as we finish our goodbyes and I follow my team into the night to our bikes.
Leaving that house behind is harder than it was yesterday.