Page 105 of Demo
Lizzie’s eyes widened, and she swallowed audibly. But before she could ask any more questions, I continued. “And I’m sorry I never do this anymore.” I held our joined hands up between us. “I didn’t realize I had stopped.”
She was shaking her head again. “It’s OK, Knox. We aren’tyoung loveanymore. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad about it.”
“Hey,” I said, using our joined hands to turn her chin toward me as I came to a stop sign. “We will always beyoung love. Don’t let me get away with anything less, you got me?” She smiled in response, and I couldn’t help myself. “Even if you are a sure thing.”
“Oh whatever!” Lizzie shrieked dramatically, pulled out of my grasp, and folded her arms over her chest. She looked around the neighborhood as I got closer to our destination.
Here we go.
“What are we doing here?” she asked as I pulled in front of a plot of land with a “SOLD” sign out front. It was full of overgrown grass and had a little stream running through the back of the property. We had passed a few completed, newly constructed homes when we turned onto the street, and there was a home in construction right next door, and on the other side there was a lot with a foundation laid.
Sitting in the truck in front of the property, I just stared at Lizzie, who stared at the lot and pointed at the “SOLD” sign, then looked at me. “Knox?” That was her way of asking what she already knew the answer to. I knew it wouldn’t take her but a minute to figure out what I was telling her.
But I still wanted her to hear me out.
“Wait!” I said as I unbuckled my seatbelt, opened the door and climbed out of the truck. I turned around and put my finger up in the air. “Just … Just wait a second.” I slammed the door and ran around to her side.
I swung open her door, leaned over to unclip her seat belt, then grabbed her hand and helped her out of the truck.
“I stopped by one of the houses we passed up the street to drop off an estimate for another project we’re working on. This was like, three months ago. It was the first time I saw the neighborhood. The realtor stopped by at the same time to pick up paperwork from the homeowner, and she was telling me that a buyer had backed out of this lot and that the property owner who subdivided the lots wanted to get them all off his hands. But this one wasn’t as attractive because the stream back there is considered a wetland, so whoever bought it would need to make sure they hired a contractor who knew all about setbacks and how to get through the red tape to construct around it, and, well, I kinda know a thing or two about it …”
I was holding both of Lizzie’s hands as I walked her toward the middle of the property. I didn’t want to stop talking for too long because I wanted her to hear everything before she had a chance to rip into me. I released one hand and came around behind her and re-clasped our hands, so she was tucked into me, her back to my chest. Raising her hand with mine, I first pointed toward the left of the property.
“We could build a two-story ranch house, with an attached garage over here. It could lead to a kitchen and dining area, or we could have a separate dining area.” I lifted her right hand. “We could have a living room on this side, with a big picture window that would take in a lot of light. Up top, we could have three rooms—bedrooms, office space, whatever you want. A full bathroom upstairs and a half-bath downstairs. We could have a small basement, just not the full length of the house, because of the wetlands.”
Lizzie didn’t speak, so I kept going. “We could have a front and back porch. We could put a porch swing out front, or get some of those Adirondack chairs you like.” She still didn’t speak, and I was starting to get nervous.
I let go of her hands and walked around to stand in front of her, removing my ball cap and running my hands through my hair before replacing it backward and bending my knees just enough so we were eye-to-eye.
“Lizzie, I’m sorry. I know this was a big thing to do without talking to you first. And if you hate it, we’ll sell it. I can find someone in the trades who won’t be afraid of it, who would scoop it up just like I did. It just, it felt right. I don’t know how to explain it. I know we have always talked about building a house of our own and we’ve been saving up but then the price was right, and it seemed kind of kismet, I guess, when I ran into the realtor. Before I knew it I was signing on the dotted line and I just … I could see it all, Lizzie. I could see it all so clearly. I still can.”
My eyes danced between hers, which gave away nothing. “Can you, Lizzie? Can you see it?”
Lizzie held my stare for a minute before taking a step back, then she stepped around me. She put her hands in the back pockets of her jean shorts before walking to one edge of the property, where she kicked her sneaker around in the grass.
Shit.
Without looking up, Lizzie spoke, and her soft voice reached my ears. “One car, or two?” When I didn’t respond, she raised her head, and her eyes, to mine. “Would it be a one-car garage, or two?”
“Two,” I answered immediately. “But as an unspoken rule, people with two-car garages typically only fit one car inside because the other side has too much crap in it.”
“Can it be my car?”
“Of course.”That’s it, baby. Take it all in.
Her hands still in her back pockets, Lizzie paced several steps then stopped. “I kind of like a kitchen-slash-dining room. A formal dining room is too stuffy for my taste. And if we have people over, I would like to be able to chat while cooking and serving.”
I nodded. “Open kitchen-slash-dining room. Check.”Keep going, I know you can see it …
She looked up toward the sun and squinted, then looked back at me. “Can the master bath be connected to our bedroomandhave a door from the hallway.”
I took steps toward her, nodding. “We’ll put that in the plans.”
She looked back at the stream. Then she turned around and looked at the neighborhood, and eventually her eyes came back to mine. By that time, I was standing right in front of her.
“You’re killing me here,” I said, trying to gauge her reaction.
Lizzie pulled her hands out of her pockets and placed them on her hips, then squared her shoulders toward me. “I want a porch swing that seats two, and I want it under an overhang so we can sit out here in the rain and swing, drinking beer or coffee, depending on the time of day. And I want a screen door that screeches when it opens. And in the back, I want a deck big enough to put a grill on it. I assume it has to be some distance away from the house? And I also want to be able to put a little bistro table on it. You’re also gonna need a shed in the back yard to house a snow blower and lawn mower unless those fit in the garage. Because we aren’t paying anyone to do that for us—”
