Page 34 of Wildest Forever

After an overhaul and new handles, the wooden framed windows were opening and closing as if they were brand new.

The soft hint of bleach filled the room so I opted for leaving the window slightly ajar to get some of the fresh air in.

Glancing at the time, it was just past four.

I needed to get a shift on before supper.

Moving back to the truck, I glance at Gerry who is now sitting at the small wooden table, Morgan has her back to me as she preps the food but I don't let her see me.

I am out that door like a flash and pulling the back of my truck down as I lay the new wood on the ground just before the steps.

Lifting my cap from my sweaty head, I push my damp, blond hair away from my face then twist my cap so it's backwards as I begin tearing the wood from the steps and shaking my head at the way it's bowed through the rot.

I made a mental note to get the house checked over because I am anxious that the wooden shack that stands won't be standing for much longer.

Tossing the old planks behind me, a thud echoing as I measure the new steps then make my way to Gerry's old work-shed to see if he had what I needed.

Probably should have checked if he had a chop saw, if not, I'll be sawing it over my leg and hoping I don't cut through my jeans.

Unbolting the rusty lock, I drag the dropped heavy wooden doors across the shingle and dust my hands off when I look at his work space.

I had no idea what Gerry did before he got ill, but it must have been some kind of craftsmanship.

I step a little further in and my eyes bounce around the room like a kid at Christmas sneaking down to see all the presents piled up.

Spotting some metal legs under a sheet, I think I have found what I am looking for. Lifting it and turning my head away so I don't inhale a lungful of dust, I smile when I see the saw.

“Bingo,” I say softly as I begin to drag it along the floor and closer to the door so I can get the light. I did check to see if any lights were connected but didn't seem that way.

Dragging the wire over to the socket by the entrance, I pray that it works otherwise I am going to have to run it from the house.

I wait a moment as I slip it on then turn and switch on the chop saw and relief swarms me when the saw kicks in then turn it off again as I march over to get the wood. Looking up at the house, I step over the gap and onto the porch as I hunt down a pencil, wood under my arm.

“Gerry,” I say as I look at him, staying in the hallway.

“Son?” he says and my heart twists.

“Where can I find a pencil?” and before he can even answer, Morgan, my wife, turns and drags a drawer open before pinching a pencil and walking over to me, holding it out for me to take,but not before her pretty greens sweep over my body then land on my eyes.

My lips twitch into a smile but she turns away, cheeks pink at being caught.

“Thank you, wife,” I say a little louder and I watch as Gerry laughs. Slipping it behind my ear, I move back outside and re-measure the step, this time marking it where I needed to cut with the pencil then placing it back where it was as I walk across to the chop-saw, flicking it on and sawing it to length.

I don't even need to look up to know that she is standing at the kitchen window watching me.

I wouldn't want to give her the satisfaction of letting her know that I know.

Petty yes.

But she riled me up.

Switching the saw off, I pace back to the front of the house, kneeling on the dusty floor beneath me as I lay the first step in, nailing it in place before I measure the boxing in and repeating until they were done.

Standing up, I dust my hands off and place my hands on my hips as I admire my work. Sure, it needed to be stained and treated, but the whole deck needed it so may as well do it in one job.

I see her tanned boots before I hear her.

“Supper is ready,” she announces before turning her back on me and disappearing into the house.

---