Page 49 of I Heart Mason Cartwright
Willow
My dad looksto me when AshLynn mentions buying a bed to stay at my house.
“I gotta say, Wills, I wasn’t sure you would really go through with it, but I am impressed that you are. And, AshLynn, you are finally settling down and taking something seriously. First getting engaged, and now talking about buying furniture. I gotta say, it makes your old man proud.”
I see the look in my dad’s eyes. A cross between pride and contentment. Maybe even some happiness. I remember a time when I thought he’d never be happy again.
“Uh . . . I’d like final say on the furniture choice since it will be staying at my house,” I say.
“That’s fair,” my dad says.
We finish our brunch mostly in silence. Or at least I do. And Mason and Zach as well. Cassandra and AshLynn continue to bounce ideas back and forth about the wedding with my dad chiming in every so often to joke about the cost. I wonder why Mason doesn’t care about the wedding details. I’ve heard that’s how men are, but it still surprises me a bit.
As we are all leaving, my dad turns to me and says, “Okay, well, are you and Mason ready to get started?”
Does he mean on the house?
Today?
I look to Mason.
“Do you mean work on the house? That was fast,” Mason says.
“It’s a big house,” my dad says. “No sense in wasting time.” He claps his hands together. “Okay, problem solved. And, if nobody needs me, I’m going to head to the pro shop down the way, see if I can get a membership and some clubs then get nine holes in.” He pulls out his phone and starts typing as he walks away.
Cassandra turns to AshLynn. “Should we go find you a bed?”
“Yes!” AshLynn is obviously excited to be furniture shopping. I would rather poke my eye out. She turns to Mason and asks, “You don’t mind if I pick it out, do you? Since you have to work and all?”
“Knock yourself out,” Mason says, but AshLynn is already turned and is walking away with Cassandra.
“Send me pictures before you buy anything,” I call out. Neither responds.
* * *
“So,”I say, looking around the empty house.
Mason nods. “How . . .” He grimaces and looks off toward the view of the water. “Never mind. You want to show me around and let me know what you’re thinking about doing?”
“Sure.” Both he and P-Tink follow me into the house. I go through the things I envision happening, then show him examples from Pinterest.
“I don’t even know if half the stuff I want to do is possible,” I say. “I was kind of just planning on poking around with this for a year or two.”
“Well, what’s your end goal?” He pulls a notepad out of his pocket along with a small pencil.
“You just have that stuff in your pocket?” I ask.
He shrugs. “You never know when you might want to draw something or write something down, leave a note for someone.”
“Just use your phone or send a text.”
“I like paper,” he says.
“Ohmigod, are you one of those people who still insists on reading an actual newspaper and a real paper book instead of using a tablet or e-reader?”
He smiles and looks down, saying, “Guilty,” then back up at me. “But, in my defense, my mom owns a used bookstore, so it’s in my blood.”
“Wow,” I say. “That’s got to be tough in today’s economy. Where’s it at?”
