Page 9 of Another Last Call
“Huh?” I asked.
He motioned to the house. “Your crew. Who’d ya hire to do your renos?”
“No one,” I said. “I’m doing them.”
He started laughing. “Aw yeah, sure. You go with Platinum Contractors or…?”
I stared at him. “Uh… no.I’mdoing them.”
“You’re not,” he said, then the laughter faded as he looked at the very serious expression on my face. “Kid, you can’t be serious.”
“I’m not a kid,” I said. “I’m twenty-eight.”
“Doesn’t matter.” He shook his head. “No way you’re doing this whole place by yourself. No way.”
“I am. Besides the electrical and some of the plumbing, but I’ve got a few contacts to help me out.”
The driver looked at the cabin, then back at me. “Buddy, this would take months with an entire team of experienced contractors.”
“Imagine how fast it’ll go without all the unnecessary delays I’d have with an entire team of contractors.”
That got a laugh out of him, surprisingly, but he was still shaking his head as he opened the door of the truck and reached in.
“Look, here’s a card for a guy I know,” he said. “He’s quick, like you think you are, and usually available for big projects on short notice. I’d say call him up right away, but you look dead-set on being the type o’ guy who’s gonna blow a bunch of money trying to do it all on his own and realize a little too late that he coulda saved it by just getting a pro from the start. So when you get to that point, call him up and say Carl recommended him.”
He wouldn’t leave until I accepted the card, regardless of how many times I told him I’d been doing this for years already.
“You think you know it all, but it’s different when you’re on your own,” he said.
I’d scoffed, but after he drove away and I peeked into the garage, I could hear his words echoing and dancing through the small gaps surrounding the materials he’d dropped off.
And I meansmallgaps.
The garage was crammed full of everything from hardwood to lumber to the various tools I’d brought with me. There was no way I’d be parking my truck in there anytime soon. I’d be lucky if I could squeak it in by the time it snowed. But that was barely a fleeting thought. The much louder, much more insistent thought was that this was everything I had.
Seeing your life’s savings sitting in front of you in any form was jarring. Sure, I still had some in the bank. I had to have something to live off of when I wasn’t bringing in a paycheck. And I had a buffer for when things inevitably went a little over budget or I had to hire help. But the rest…
The rest of it was in that garage.
I stood there for a while, letting the second thoughts spiral as I fidgeted with the card the delivery driver had given me. What was I even doing? I’d never done a renovation of this level on my own. I was in a small tourist town with no family. No friends. I’d never been alone in Marble Beach before. I didn’t evenknowanyone here.
I ran a hand through my hair, staring at the pile of materials in front of me. Then I took a deep breath, let it out, and forced myself to turn away and shut the door.
“Only idiots never fail,” I said.
Another Dad-ism. Failure wasn’t something to be ashamed of. Not when it was for people who gave a fuck in the first place.
Dad also would’ve told me to walk away for a bit. “You can’t see the big picture when you’re in the painting” was another one of his favourite sayings. I half-laughed as I locked the garage door, wondering if he’d known that when he died, his cheesy sayings would be what haunted me.
Not that I minded. It was one of the few ways I could still remember his voice.
I popped inside to grab my jacket, a plaid flannel thing that seemed too thick for the end of summer but in reality wasn’t. The fall chill was already settling in and the breeze off the lake wasn’t helping matters. Then I hopped in my truck and drove the five or so minutes into the town of Marble Beach.
Seven
Caleb
Thetownhadchangeda lot.
