Page 40 of Stone Blind

“Good, we have two weeks to figure it out,” he said. “You’re here for a reason, Helen. You came to me for a reason, and now we know. This is going to work out for us.”

“I know it will because we want it to work,” she said, feeling better about the decision to come to Oregon and see her guy."Okay, basil, salt, oregano...just a pinch of sugar. Shut up. I like it like that."

Chapter 13 -Tail

Saturday morning eased in with little said between Mustang and Helen as he grappled with the upcoming decision that would alter the course of both of their lives. He didn’t know what it was about her, but he wanted her as his own for as long as she’d have him.

“I’m ready to see your shop and make the table we spoke about,” she said.

“Right this way, Milady,” he said with a flourish of his hand.

Helen performed a mock curtesy and headed down the stairs. Lights flickered on with every step she took, illuminating the neat workspace loaded with power tools, table saws, and equipment that could easily dismantle a body.

“I saw that!” he said laughing.

“What, I didn’t say anything,” she laughed, taking note of the space requirement, he would need in a new home.

She watched him remove a sizeable chunk of Sequoia redwood, and then he passed Helen a pair of googles and a hand sander. He explained while she listened and complied. Two hours later, she mixed the resin, added color, and drizzled the concoction into the crevices of the table to create their very first couple's project.

“Okay, we let it set, then smooth it out and apply the final finish,” he told her.

“Odd that we would make a table for a house I’m not going to be living in,” she commented, appreciating the beauty of what they had created together.

“We made this to put beside the reading chair to hold your latest novel and cup of tea in our new home,” he said, watching her face.

Helen blushed a bit at the implication. She had a few ideas she wanted to share. He needed to be made aware of what she’d learned on how to set up a Technician’s living space, as well as what she’d learned living on the land with Mr. Slow. The home she and Cherry shared was minimal in case she got burned, a term used when an agent’s identity was discovered, and they had to move fast. She’d never personalized a place and was beginning to plan some ideas for the home she had on Slow’s land when life changed for her once again. This time, Helen wanted to be in control of the change.

“Bad Apple bought this shit of a two-story colonial farmhouse that needed new bathrooms to say the least,” she told him. “He gave me a budget to set up the house. I guess that will come in handy for what comes next for us.”

Mustang’s back was to her as he worked, turning slowly to inquire, “Your thoughts?”

“Outbuildings,” she said. “You’re going to need outbuildings. This workshop, one, plus the sporting equipment. We will need garages, especially for the two vehicles you purchased for me plus my shop. Your two vehicles and your shop if you still plan to track as a Technician. We need privacy and land. People don’t need to see what we’re bringing onto the property.”

He loved the way her mind worked, which made conversations with the lady so much easier by not needing or having to codify a subject before the discussion. “How much land are you thinking?”

“Don’t know; we have to set a budget and take a look at what’s available,” she told him.

“Okay, lunch, laptop, and we begin searching,” he offered watching her eyes.

The search over soup and sandwiches went well, and they located a property with the requirements, the land, and the buildings. However, the home on the property was a no go as far as they both were concerned.

"That small house would be perfect for a workshop," she said, "but we would need to build a fence around the entire property to keep it private."

“Build,” he said, looking at the screen, using the 3D angles to search the property.

“Or we can stay with a manufactured, but I tell you, I don’t like walking and it feels like my house is moving,” she told him. “A manufactured home, while practical, feels less than permanent. I haven’t had a lot of permanent, and I’d like some for once.”

He still wanted to know more about her background, inquiring, “Before your mother died, did you guys move around frequently?”

She arched her eyebrows at him and she told him, “My parents are both very much alive. My father lives in New York. My mother is shacked up with a loser named Waldo in Chicago who likes to greet everyone by saying “aiiii.” He’s a creep but her type. She’s happy and away from me.”

“Well, that answers the next question about family holiday gatherings,” he said.

“And your folks in Wisconsin?”

“My grandmother died years ago. My Dad was killed doing Homeboy shit on the streets, and my mother couldn’t cope with life and she sent me to live with my Grams,” he said. “I was getting out of hand in Wisconsin, and Gram’s pastor told her about this summer camp in Ohio. I went, because, hey, I love the outdoors, camping and canoeing. I met the Neary’s. Rebecca almost drowned, I saved her life. The next day, my Gram's had a stroke, which ended her life. Then I got a new family.”

Helen didn’t reach for him. She didn’t ask any follow-up questions about his mother’s inability to cope, assuming the worse and letting the mangy dog lie on the front porch. “We have a lot to learn about each other.”

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