Page 24 of Say Something
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“The walls are done,” Michael told me Monday afternoon. He and Dean had spent the morning at my house patching and filling the holes in the walls.
I’d been surprised to find them there when I went to visit Mr. Smith at the practice. They’d told me that since they owned the company, their crews worked the various projects, and they popped in where needed to provide supervision and assistance. That allowed them to take on my home themselves immediately, and I wasn’t going to complain about that. I just hoped none of their crews were suffering in the meantime.
“You’re going to want to wait about twenty-four hours before you start priming the walls,” Mikey added. “Give the putty time to dry.”
I nodded, looking around the space. The patched walls already made the house look better.
“We’re pulling up the carpets now,” Michael said. “Then we’ll work on the ceilings. In fact, you’ll want to prime and paint those, too, once we’re finished.”
“What can I do to help?” I asked, wanting to do something, even though I had no business doing anything of the construction variety. I also didn’t have the time.
“Nothing; we got this, Jess.” Dean assured me as he passed by with some carpet scraps in his gloved hands.
“There’s a catalog there on the counter,” Michael lifted his chin towards the kitchen. “It has different kinds of flooring…carpet, wood, and veneer. Take your pick.”
Now that was right up my alley. I wandered into the kitchen and picked up the catalog. The pages were filled with different colors of wood, carpets, tiles, and linoleum. Looking around the cottage, I decided wood floors would be the way to go. I liked the idea of dark wood in the bedroom to go with the whiskey colored walls. Maybe a lighter wood for living area. Definitely tile for the bathroom and kitchen.
I spent another hour or so browsing and marking the catalog with my notes, then I checked my watch. I had five minutes until I was due to meet Mr. Smith in the office.
“I’m heading next door if you guys need me,” I called as I slipped out the front door. They had finished pulling up the carpet and were busy taking down the doors. I was surprised at how quickly they were getting everything done, but it was a small place and most of the damage was aesthetic. I guessed it helped that they didn’t have any furniture to work around, and literally everything was being renovated, so they didn’t need to worry about damaging anything.
Hearing a vehicle approach, I looked towards the road. Mr. Smith pulled into the small gravel lot in front of the office and parked in the unmarked space beside my car. I’d briefly seen Mrs. Smith to pick up the key to the cottage the morning Mom and I checked it out, but Mr. Smith hadn’t been home.
“Jessica,” he said in his deep baritone as he got out of the car. “Dear girl, look at you!”
I smiled as I stepped into his open arms. “It’s good to see you, Mr. Smith.”
“None of that. Call me George,” he held me out at arm’s length. “We’re peers now.” I knew he meant it in the professional sense, but I still had to tamp down a giggle at the thought of a seventy-year-old man being my peer.
Mr. Smith looked good for his age. He was short and a little thick around the middle, but he still had a full head of thick, white hair and his eyes danced with youth. He’d always had an energy about him, despite his age, and I was glad to see that hadn’t changed.
“I’ll try,” I said, following him up the brick steps to the small porch.
“Would you like to do the honors?” he asked, holding out the key.
“No, you go ahead,” I waved him off. I never was one to make a big fuss out of stuff like that. Plus, I’d have plenty of time to celebrate my new office and job in the coming months when I was able to make the place my own. Right now it was still Mr. Smith’s. For a few more days.
He unlocked the door and stepped inside, flipping the switch for the lights as he went. It had been so long since I’d been inside the practice, but it looked the same as I remembered. Four leather chairs sat in the small waiting room, and on the other side of a glass partition was the reception desk. Mrs. Smith had graced that desk for as long as I could remember.
I’ll have to hire a secretary, I thought to myself.
Mr. Smith—err, George, that was going to be difficult—led me back to his office, which would soon be my office. I knew from our last conversation that he had a few cases he wanted to close up himself but would be handing the rest of them over to me.
“This cabinet back here,” George patted the top of the black metal filing cabinet in the corner behind his desk, “contains all the active cases. Mostly property stuff, some family law, estates…” he trailed off. I could tell this was hard on him—leaving his life’s work behind.
“I promise I will take good care of all your clients,” I assured him, placing my hand on his forearm.
“I know you will. I know you will. The few cases I’m hanging onto are estates undergoing some modifications. Once those are complete, they’ll go in this cabinet over here.” He walked over to another black filing cabinet, neatly labeled “ESTATES.” “Archives are in the file room,” he gestured towards the closed door across the hall.
I nodded, taking it all in. Owning my own practice was going to be overwhelming…in a good way, of course. It hadn’t completely sunk in yet that this was all mine, but I couldn’t wait to get started and work on something other than employment contracts, which had been my job at the corporate firm in the city. I’d be happy if I never had to review another contract in my life.
“Occasionally I’ll get contracts from some of the local businesses. Just basic review stuff,” he added, bursting my contract-free bubble. “I have complete faith in you, Jessica.”
It had been so long since I had felt pride towards myself, especially coming from another person, but I did in that moment. I hadn’t had too much to be proud of lately. If I was being honest, I hadn’t had much to be proud of since I graduated law school. That was my last major accomplishment after graduating high school, college, and then marrying my high school sweetheart. It all went downhill from there.
“Thank you,” I finally said. “I can’t wait to get started.”
