Page 31 of Built to Last
Phillip didn’t bat an eye when I got out my small plastic travel case, switching to my own cutlery partway through the main course because the restaurant utensils were too awkward. Unfortunately, fancy restaurants often mean fancy cutlery that weighs a lot more than necessary and my hands can’t always manage. Where other people might make a big deal out of it, Phillip just checked I was alright and moved on straight away once he knew everything was fine.
Now our desserts have arrived and I don’t want the night to end. Phillip chuckles softly, the gentle light and flickering candles of the restaurant highlighting his handsome features.
“We had our moments when we were kids and the four-year age gap led to a few spats in our teenage years. Mum and Dad had the patience of saints dealing with the crap we got up to.”
“Like what?”
He ponders for a moment, blue eyes sparkling with mischief when he thinks of a good story. “When I was twelve, I decided I wanted to make Eric something for Christmas. I’d been carving for a while and thought it would be cool to make a nameplate for his bedroom door because you know every teenage boy wants a hand-carved sign on their door, right?”
“Of course.” I nod in agreement with mock-seriousness.
“I spent ages working on it. Every spare moment went into this thing, right?” I nod. “I was so proud of it, thought it was going to be his favourite present of the year, possibly ever.”
“What happened?”
“Well, I’d bigged it up so much, telling Eric I had the most awesome present for him, so when he opened it to find a hand-carved nameplate it was pretty anticlimactic. At sixteen my brother hadn’t quite mastered his poker face yet so even though he said the right stuff I knew he hated it.”
“Why do I feel like there’s more?”
“Because you’re a smart woman.” He grins cheekily. “So, detective that I am, I go into his room on Boxing Day to see where he’s put it since it obviously wasn’t going on the door. I thought he might have displayed it on his desk or something.”
“Where was it?” I bit my lip already cringing on his behalf.
“The bin.”
“No,” I gasp.
“Oh yeah.” He shakes his head. “Right in the top of the bin next to his desk, not even hidden under anything. I wasso mad.”
“What did you do?”
“Revenge was one hundred percent necessary, obviously,” he deadpans.
“Obviously,” I agree, biting back a smile.
“I took the name plate right then and hid it underneath my pillow. It wasn’t unusual for me to spend a lot of time in the garage workshop but the rule was my dad had to be in there too just in case I hurt myself—can’t be too careful with kids when there are tools around. Anyway, I snuck out there in the afternoon while everyone else was chilling out in the living room in front of Christmas films, knowing my parents would fall asleep and wouldn’t come looking for me. I made a little something extra as fast as I could then hid it upstairs as well. That night, after everyone went to bed, I struck.” A giggle escapes me at his dramatic storytelling.
“I glued the name plate to my brother’s door, except now instead of just ‘Eric’ I added the extra piece so it said ‘Eric sucks.’ Not the most creative insult but Iwasonly twelve.”
My eyes widen. “I bet your parents were livid.”
“Mum and Eric weresoangry. Dad thought it was funny but pretended to take the whole thing very seriously. They were going to make me take it off and repaint Eric’s door but when Mum found out why I did it she decided Eric deserved to live with it for a while.”
My mouth drops open in shock as he laughs at the memory. “She did not!” His mum sounds awesome. “What was your punishment then, or did you get away with it, being the baby of the family?”
“Oh no, I was punished,” he assures me. “I was banned from the workshop for a whole month and they took my phone so I couldn’t talk to my friends over Christmas break. Worth it though. The sign’s still up.” He smirks.
“Seriously?”
“Yep, that sucker isn’t coming off without some serious elbow grease. Luckily it kind of grew on Eric in the end—after he moved out for uni and didn’t have to keep explaining to his friends why his own door said he sucked.” I snort and Phillip’s eyes crinkle at the corners with amusement at the undignified sound. “When he decorated his house, Eric wanted to take the sign down and put it on the door of his home office but Mum said she’d miss it if it wasn’t there. I made him a new one that Christmas.”
“Your family sounds so…”
“Ridiculous?”
“I was going to say fun. And close. It must be nice.” He cocks his head, assessing me shrewdly.
“Do you think your parents will make more of an effort one day?”
