Page 5 of In Love with Lewis Prescott
“Stop. Harper, what you’re doing—what you’ve already done—is amazing. Our grandparents’ house has been sitting there for years just waiting for someone to build it up like they always wanted. But none of us in the family had the guts or the money to take it on. You did, though. You quit your job after years of establishing yourself as a brilliant architect and used your skills to honor our grandparents’ memory. You’ve already kicked ass with the additions you’ve put onto the house. Can you imagine just how giddyApongVivian would have been to see the veranda? AndApongBernie’s eyes would have popped out of his head to see that master bathroom and the half bath you put in. Remember how he always complained about having only one bathroom when all of us girls would come visit for the holidays?”
Naomi’s reassurances have my chest tightening in a completely different way now. Because she’s right. They would be ecstatic at what I’ve accomplished so far.
“I know what happened with Vlad is beyond maddening,” she says. “And I swear to god, if I ever see that guy, I’m going to kick him in the nuts with my pointiest high heel for being such a dick to you.”
I let out a watery chuckle at the thought of sweet and adorable Naomi nailing Vlad in the crotch.
“I should have done more research before hiring him,” I mutter. “He must have faked his online reviews or something, because they were all glowing.”
“I promise, it’ll work out. We’ll figure out a way.”
My throat throbs with emotion. I sniffle and swallow. “Thanks, Naomi. I just... It’s overwhelming to think about where to go from here. I don’t even know where to start. I put aside a lot of money for this renovation, and it was already more expensive than I wanted it to be. Not working is making it hard too, because I don’t have that source of income anymore. I can’t just throw money at stuff when I’m not bringing it in, you know? I had a plan—save money so I could quit work for a while in order to focus fully on the renovation. I was so burned-out from my job too, you know? Seeing Uncle Pedro in the hospital helped me realize how short life is and how I don’t want to spend it living like a workaholic.”
I swallow back the sudden lump in my throat, thankful that Uncle Pedro is out of the hospital and recovering with my parents.
“Once this house is finished, I’ll start working as an architect again. But maybe I should just bite the bullet and start working now? I can’t think of another way to pay for everything that’s gone wrong.”
Naomi starts to talk, but I press on. This is the only way I can make sense of the muddled, panicked thoughts in my brain—to talk it all out.
“Now I have to hire someone else to come in and fix what Vlad screwed up, and it’ll probably be double what I budgeted and I don’t want to dig into my retirement...”
“No, don’t,” Naomi quickly says. “Look, I know I tease you about how careful you are with your money, but I also know how important it is for you to save and plan. That would kill you to dig into your retirement. AndApongVivian andApongBernie wouldn’t want you to do anything that would put you out for their sake.”
I’m instantly heartened at her words. We’re the exact same age, and our families grew up together in the Bay Area. She knows better than anyone why I’m so careful with money. Our grandparents were immigrants from the Philippines and moved to the US in their twenties, settling in Half Moon Bay. They worked hard to provide a stable life for their family. As a kid, I watched them, my parents, Naomi’s parents, and our relatives pinch pennies and budget for everything in order to afford a middle-class lifestyle in one of the most expensive areas in the country.
When I landed a lucrative corporate architect job straight out of college, I held on to it for dear life. And I’m glad I did. I made a lot of money for ten-plus years. I was able to pay off my student loans, finance a healthy retirement fund, buy a one-bedroom apartment in Nob Hill, build a cushy savings account, and help out my family from time to time. I’m grateful for my financial stability, but my experience has also made me hesitant to spend large amounts of money unexpectedly.
It’s not like I have an endless stream to draw from. Yes, I’m more financially stable than most, but one unforeseen catastrophe—like a renovation gone wrong—could easily wipe out a huge chunk of my savings, leaving my finances wrecked.
I tug a hand through my hair, pulling me back to the present. “I’ll figure out a way through this.” I repeat Naomi’s reassurance from a minute ago. “It’s not like the house isn’t livable or anything like that. I’m still fine staying there while I work out what I’m going to do next.”
My dream was to settle into that house and for the next year immerse myself in quiet coastal life and do volunteer work as a way to decompress from all the time I spent as a workaholic in San Francisco. I’d be in the house where I spent so much of my childhood. I was so pumped to decorate the newly renovated space with all the special heirloomsApongVivian andApongBernie left me and my family. And I was planning to host holidays and family gatherings there too, starting this year, so that my family could come together in the newly remodeled house and celebrate like we used to when my grandparents were still alive.
But the thought of doing all that in a house with a half-finished floor, shoddy kitchen cabinets, and puke-colored walls has my eyes burning. Our grandparents gave our entire family so much endless joy and so many memories with that house, and my attempt to carry on their love and tradition failed miserably.
“Harper.” Naomi’s voice cuts through the cloud of sad thoughts consuming me. “Do you want to borrow some money? I know I don’t make as much as you and so I don’t have as much savings, but Simon and I would be so happy to—”
“Nope.” I sit up. “No way am I letting my cousin, who’s in the middle of planning her dream wedding to her dream guy, give me any money.”
Naomi proposed to Simon at their apartment in San Francisco just a few months ago while I was here in Half Moon Bay, overseeing the tail end of the additions to the house.
She starts to insist, but I shoot her down again.
“How’s wedding planning going, by the way?” I ask, eager to change the topic of our conversation to something happy. “I still can’t believe it’s happening so soon.”
“We don’t want a long engagement. And surprisingly, planning everything has been pretty stress-free. I’m amazed at the number of vendors that have been available on our tight timeline.”
I was shocked to hear they were planning to get hitched so soon after the proposal. But it’s also a disgustingly sweet testament to how in love they are. They don’t want to waste a single moment not being married to each other. Even my cynical, romance-weary self had swooned at that.
She tells me about how they’re writing their own vows and how they’re going to have a dessert bar in lieu of a wedding cake with cupcakes and egg tarts. She lets out a breath that sounds the exact opposite of my stress-ridden exhales: light, airy, and delivered through a giddy smile.
“I’m so freaking happy, Harper. I can’t wait to marry Simon.” She’s full-on beaming now, I can hear it.
“Look, I know I’m in the middle of a shit show, but I want you to know that it absolutely will not affect my ability to be a stellar maid of honor.”
“I know that.”
“You sure you don’t want to have an engagement party or a bridal shower? It’s not too late for me to set something up.”
