Page 41 of Lemon Crush

“You really had a headlamp just lying around?”

“I brought it from work. I like to be prepared.”

“For what? Spelunking?”

“For climbing into attics with chainsaws, smartass.” I looked down, giving her my best charming-even-in-the-face-of-weather-catastrophes grin. “Admit it. You’re jealous of how good this looks on me.”

Her laughter was all the incentive I needed to propel myself heroically up into the attic to survey the damage.

Well, hell. I’d need to watch where I stepped up here—there was no plywood over the wooden joists. The rain lashing on the roof outside and the wind shaking the house added an extra fun factor as I turned my head slowly, letting my headlamp pierce the gloom around me.

It didn’t take long to spot the intruder, and I bit back a curse. A professional might say it wasn’t that bad, but I wasn’t a professional, and that limb on the far side of the attic was at least half as wide as I was.

I called down to August to take a few pictures down there while I stepped gingerly across the joists with the heavy-ass chainsaw. Then I set it down and snapped a dozen pictures of the damage with my phone, giving myself a mini pep talk. A helper would have been nice, since I hadn’t spent much time balancing on two-inch-wide boards while working with motorized blades in the dark, but the space was too cramped and it wouldn’t have been safe. I’d just have to be careful. I could do this for August.

The storm sounded like an inbound freight train as I shouted a warning for her to clear the area below me. When she let me know she was safely in the hall, I balanced on two joists and revved up the chainsaw, drowning out the storm. I worked quickly, making the first cut as low as I could on the thick limb without cutting into the house. As soon as the blade was through, the bottom part of thetree slid through the insulation and busted sheet rock to drop heavily to the floor below.

“One cut down, one to go,” I called.

When the saw sliced through the section jutting through the mangled roof, the log fell my way. I barely had time to brace myself for the pain, much less jump out of the way, but mercifully, it only struck a glancing blow to the side of my boot before landing across two joists.

I gave an adrenaline-fueled laugh of relief. I hadn’t lost a limboradded another unintentional skylight.

Now that the hard part was done, I set the saw down and quickly surveyed what was left before digging out my pocketknife to cut some usable pieces off the tarp. I nailed one piece all around the dinner plate-sized hole in the roof, and the other I attached to the attic floor to cover her ceiling. When I called down again, she handed up the tubs and I placed them around the hole to catch any leaks, just in case.

It was sloppy work. Not a long-term fix by any stretch of the imagination, but that was all I could do tonight to keep most of the rain out. The rest would have to wait until our phones had service again.

My soggy boots and sweats were covered with insulation when I landed on her floor again. “Shit. Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. This place is already a mess.”

“It doesn’t look like the tree got anywhere near the upper level, but it wouldn’t hurt to take a look upstairs to be safe.”

She sucked in her lower lip. “I forgot about that. Good thing we have your trusty headlamp to guide us,” she teased as we headed upstairs.

“You keep mentioning it. I have extras at work if you want your own.”

She followed closely behind me as I scanned the ceiling forany water damage, poking my head in the cluttered guest room and bathroom.

“All clear.”

“That’s a relief.” She started back down the stairs again and then turned to look at me. “Grab something to change into and bring it over in a bag if you want it to stay dry. I have enough cold pizza for the both of us.”

I wasn’t saying no to that. “I’d appreciate it.”

“Sure.”

“Great.”

The part of me that wasn’t exhausted, soaked to the bone and itching from the insulation wanted to strike a victory pose. Not only was she talking to me again, but Hurricane Pain-In-My-Ass had just given me the opening I’d been hoping for.

When I carried the heavy tree branch out of the living room and dumped it in the backyard, I decided I might have to rename this damn storm. HurricaneSaving-My-Ass?

9

AUGUST

After spendinga few minutes sopping up as much water from my floor as I could with nearly every towel I had, I hung them around the washroom to dry in case the power took too long to turn on. Then I put on a baggy tee and another pair of shorts in deference to the heat.

---