Page 72 of Love Undecided
Chapter 32
Brad
Tonight is movie night at Lexie’s winery and I just invited Stacy. I realize, that at a time when I should be breaking up with her, I shouldn’t really be inviting her anywhere, but fuck it.
I get ready for an afternoon run. I try to vary the times of day that I go, which I hope keeps my body guessing as to when it needs to be ready for exertion. I don’t know if it works or not. What I do know is that a fire sure as hell isn’t going to wait until six a.m. every morning to start, just because I time my runs that way and my body is used to it.
I fight the urge to run by Kat’s house. That would take me out of my way by over an hour of running time and I really need to spend the afternoon working on my floors. My dad sold me his house earlier this year, the same one I grew up in, and I am working on renovating it when I have time off.
My current project is refinishing the hardwood floors. It isn’t that hard of a job, it’s just messy, dusty, and time-consuming. I have most of the downstairs sanded and once I finish with that I can start the staining and sealing. I want to do the staining all in one day to ensure consistency of color and finish. I figure my next couple days off will be more than enough time for that.
The house is perfect for raising a family: single-story Craftsman style, with a large front porch, small front yard, large fenced backyard, three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a detached garage. The first thing I renovated was the master bathroom. I knocked out a small linen closet, the shower/tub combo, and the wall that separated the toilet, then was able to add a smaller separate shower, a raised claw foot tub, a couple sinks, and some built-in storage. I also added a few clerestory windows for natural light and changed out the existing window to a prairie style. I used sage green and dark gray tiling on the walls, off-white ceramic mosaic floor tile, and a custom stain on the wood cabinetry and trim.
I wish I could take credit for the design, but that was all the cute redhead at the home improvement store.
I finish my run in little over forty-five minutes. As I jog up my front walk, I take a second to admire my flower garden. In addition to my home renovations, I’ve also been landscaping the yards and have discovered a love of plants and gardening that I didn’t know I had. It’s not just the guy in me liking to get my hands in the dirt; I also like to see the transformation from seed to plant or seedling to mature plant.
There is a definite strategy in figuring out where to plant which types of plants and flowers depending upon the time of year and how the sun or shade hits the area. My front deck is a great showcase for my annuals and perennials. Plus, at the risk of sounding like a wimp, they make me smile whenever I see them.
I enter the house panting and sweaty and am greeted with silence. I keep thinking I should get a dog, but it seems unfair with my schedule and no one else here to care for it. If my dad hadn’t moved into a small “no pets allowed” apartment when he sold me the house, I could leave it with him while on shift. I’ll bet he would have loved that. With a sigh, I throw my keys on the table by the front door and head into the kitchen to grab a water and a beer.
For some reason, Coors Light always tastes amazing right after a run in the sun. It’s not my go-to beer for every day, but it’s a perfect thirst quencher. Realizing that I am now too tired to work on the floors, I take a quick shower and then try to catch an afternoon nap. I don’t wake until I hear my pager go off at close to five p.m. and I call in to the station, halfway hoping I have to go in and can’t take Stacy out tonight. But, it’s just that we are on call tonight as a backup for a neighboring city in case they get called out, we can cover their house until they get back.
So, no wine for me tonight, which is disappointing since Lexie’s wine is some of my favorite I’ve ever tasted. Glancing at the clock, I realize I have just enough time to change my clothes before I have to leave to get Stacy.
