Page 13 of Built to Last
“Of course not. Come on, I’m just over here.”
Instead of leading me to one of the vans like I’d been expecting, Phillip heads towards a spacious seven-seater car with the back seats flattened down instead.
“No van?” I ask, curious, since surely that would be a more practical vehicle for him given his job.
“Judging me on my choice of car? Didn’t think you were that kind of woman, Rose.” He smirks letting me stew in my discomfort for a beat before shrugging. “I have a van at home but prefer driving this when I can. It’s pretty likely we’ll have to order the wood panels in, so this should be fine to transport whatever we pick up today.”
“Oh.” Way to win points as a great conversationalist, Rose.
“May I?” Phillip extends his hand towards me and I blink at it in confusion. Does he want me to hold it? Oh, the travel mug. Heat spreads across my cheeks as I hand it over quickly. Once it’s safely tucked into his passenger-side door, he locks the car behind him.
“Shall we?” He gestures towards the shop.
“Lead the way.”
Not being one for DIY, I’ve never had a reason to come here. The sheer size of the shop is intimidating and I’m suddenly very glad Phillip is here to guide me. With a high ceiling and seemingly endless rows of aisles it feels more like a warehouse than a shop. Noticing my gawking, Phillip laughs. The warm sound soothes me like warm honey down a sore throat.
“It’s intimidating at first but don’t worry, I know where we’re going.” His self-assured smile eases the tension in my shoulders even further.
“That’s a relief. Where first?”
Phillip strides confidently down the aisles and I follow closely behind him like a lost puppy.
“We’ll get the wood panels ordered now since I doubt they’ll have the sizes we want in stock and they’ll probably take a couple of days to come in. After that we can grab the smaller stuff.”
“Sounds good.” Silence falls between us that isn’t necessarily uncomfortable, but I clear my throat, feeling like I should make conversation anyway. “So why carpentry? How did you get started?” We’re going to be stuck together for weeks so the least I can do is be polite. Although I’m starting to feel like maybe working together is not going to be such a bad thing. Phillip rewards my efforts at small talk with another of his dazzling smiles.
“Through the family business. Dad was a contractor and handyman, he’s retired now, but I used to hang out in his garage every weekend watching him work. Probably got underfoot more than I should have, especially when I was little. I was a curious kid,” he admits with a self-deprecating chuckle. “Anyway, as soon as I was old enough, he had me helping out with small things. My older brother, Eric, wasn’t interested beyond the basics that Dad made sure to teach us both so it kind of became our thing.”
“That sounds nice. It’s great the two of you can share that.” Phillip bobs his head in agreement. All my parents and I shared while I was growing up were awkward dinners in the dining room that felt way too formal for just our small family of three.
“By the time I turned sixteen, I knew enough to help out on jobs in the school holidays and with some of his custom projects at the weekends in term time. Dad was more focused on the contractor work but when he saw how much I loved the carpentry side of things he really encouraged me. Since taking over I split my time more evenly between the two.”
“Impressive.” I mean it too. He looks a few years older than my twenty-six but still pretty young. Early thirties maybe? Itsays a lot that he was able to take on his father’s business and make it his own.
“Are the two of you still close?”
“Yeah,” he answers with a smile. “When my brother moved back to the area with his son, Toby, Mum decided we should have weekly family time so I’m over there for lunch every Sunday.”
“That sounds nice,” I say, wistfully.
Our conversation pauses when we approach a small kiosk surrounded by stacks and stacks of all kinds of wood. The person behind the counter has light-brown skin, long pin straight hair swept up in a high ponytail, and looks to be in their forties. They recognise Phillip immediately, smiling and exchanging pleasantries. Phillip introduces me quickly before placing an order for the wood panels we need.
First task complete, we continue to navigate the labyrinth masquerading as a building and DIY supply shop. “What about you? Why art?” he asks, picking up our earlier conversation.
“It’s something I’ve always enjoyed. My parents wanted me to do something more serious and said that studying art was a waste of time. I managed to convince them to let me give it a shot after I found a course that offered business modules as well as practical lessons.”
“Where did you study?”
“Here, actually. Aria and I both went to Riverbend University. We met working in the student bar on campus and bonded over the late nights dealing with our drunken classmates. Neither of us is that close with our families so we’ve looked out for each other ever since.” I’m not sure why I added that last part. Phillip’s laidback nature just makes him so easy to talk to. I’ll have to watch myself or risk spilling my whole life story before we’re done here.
“Your family must be happy now that you’ve made a career from your art though, right? Not many people can say that.” He looks so hopeful I can’t bring myself to tell him my parents and I don’t speak anymore unless it’s someone’s birthday or a holiday. Instead of revealing any more about the mess that is my life right now, I simply offer him a polite smile and shrug one shoulder.
“What else do we need?” Phillip allows my less than subtle subject change, rattling off a list of supplies for us to track down.
We pick up a few more items without really speaking and I feel bad for putting an abrupt end to our conversation. We’d been doing so well. It’s not his fault for asking about my parents. After all, I asked questions about his family first and shouldn’t have mentioned mine if I didn’t want to talk about them. I fiddle with the sleeves of my jumper trying to think of something,anything, to say. When I clear my throat as we walk down another aisle Phillip looks over at me hopefully.
“You mentioned preferring the woodworking side of your business to the other stuff, why is that? I mean, what do you enjoy most about it?”
