Page 7 of Mr. July

All the other houses on the block were vacant. No holiday lights twinkled from trees. No neighbor’s waved as I checked my mail. I was the only one left, riding out the holidays on the deserted beach and winter waves alone.

I put my Air Pods in, rocking out to Halsey and The Weekend while cutting beadboard and shiplap. The tracks may be a bit dated now but back in my glory days I worked mad moves on the dance floor. I was a guy who danced and loved it. I wasn’t shy to roll my hips to the beat while the other guys hung back feeling awkward while hiding behind their beers.

Outside the air had a damp chill. It was colder than a penguin’s balls. Rain had turned to clinging shards of ice on the windows while I was sweating my assets off. I used adhesive glue with an air nail gun to set the shiplap in place. I whipped my shirt over my head and kept my home improvement dance party going until something made the hairs on the back of my neck rise.

I wasn’t alone.

Ripping my ear buds out, I spun ready to face my intruder—liquid nail gun at the ready.

“We should just do another calendar. Make it a home improvement theme.”

“I like it. Shirtless, sweaty men with tools…”

Carlos and my sister were up to no good again. Their eyes traveled low then high seconds before Carlos lifted that damn camera.

Click. Click. Click.

Here we go again.

“What’s going on?” I put my tools down, reaching on the floor for my discarded shirt. Scowling, I put it on while flipping Carlos the bird.

“Merry Christmas, little brother. I was able to snag Carlos to photograph your house for rentals. You’ll sell out every month. He’s a true artist.”

“Yeah he will,” Carlos, murmured, with a grin. His eyes were on me not the house.

A smirk played across my lips. “I don’t go that way, bro.”

“That’s okay. I still have you on my wall.”

“TMI, Carlos. Thanks for offering to snap my house but as you can see the place isn’t ready.”

“That’s why I’m here. Some of the furniture I ordered already arrived. More is on the way. Chop-chop, baby bro.”

I threw my hands up in the air. “I’ll leave it to you to unbox all the furniture you had delivered.” I shook my head, “Never give your sister your American Express digits,” I muttered under my breath as I left the room.

“Hey!” I had spun around when a wet paint brush hit me square in the back.

“You want to start shit, Char?”

“No!” She squeaked, as I sauntered forward after slowly twirling the boar bristle brush in a quart of transitional gray paint.

“You chose it! I bet it’ll look great on you!”

“EEEEKKKK!” She fled, dropping her Gucci bag and interior design books. Carlos started capturing it all on his camera. Char lost of course. By the time I was done with her, she was covered head-to-toe.

“That’s payback for…. I don’t know. Maybe… everything?!”

“Ugh! Chase! We’re not kids anymore!” She yelled before locking herself in my newly renovated bathroom. I ordered a handmade walnut tub, settling it in front of the window that overlooked the dunes and beach. The shower was a nice sea glass colored mosaic tile with three different shower heads, a teak bench, and a wall of glass around it all.

After Charlie cleaned herself up, she and Carlos left me alone while they got busy staging furniture. I finished cutting and installing shiplap along the walls of the guest rooms and hallway. Char and Carlos never bothered me; I had a bad feeling I wouldn’t recognize my house when I went back downstairs. My cell pinged from its place on a stool:

Hunter:Bro, it’s naughty Elf Night. We haven’t gone since 2018. Don’t be a chump. Come out tonight.

I sighed, raking a hand through the sawdust in my hair. I was tempted, I won’t lie. Hunter was the best wingman I’d ever had. The two of us out on the town together were unstoppable. He ghosted me when he met a girl at the shore two years ago. When it came down to it, he couldn’t pull the commitment card. She dumped him cold.

Me:My sister is in town.

Hunter:Freckles? She’d make one hot elf.

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