Effortless With You (26 page)

“Then I’d be a very happy person right now.”

He grins. “Well I’m glad to see you didn’t lose your fire.”

“And I’m glad to see you are still my consistent, annoying and egotistical friend.”

“You know it,” he says with unknowing charm. I refuse to let my grin creep across my face. “So, how did yesterday go?” he asks.

“Fine, I guess. Zach really can’t be held accountable. It’s driving my dad nuts.”

“That sucks.”

I shift in my seat. “I don’t think Zach would have done anything more, though.” I watch, but his expression doesn’t give anything away. “Do you?”

“I thought about it all day yesterday. I want to say no but I just don’t know. He’s not himself when he’s wasted.”

“He always listened to me before.”

Justin clenches his jaw. “You had to say no before?”

I shrug like it was no big deal. The vein in Justin’s neck throbs. “No guy should ever push a girl so far she has to say no.”

I roll my eyes at him and laugh. “Come on, Justin. How else are they going to know?”

“That’s not how it is supposed to work.”

“Oh? Then how does it?” I mock him.

Justin shrugs. “First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby in the baby carriage.” I laugh, thinking he is joking. He doesn’t smile. He turns to me. “Guys shouldn’t operate like Zach. There should never be a question when you get to that point.”

I don’t know how to respond. Justin’s reasoning astounds me. I didn’t know there were guys left that actually felt that way. “So you’re saying?” I need clarification.

“I will never force myself on a girl.”

“And?”

He sighs, “Yeah. It sounds stupid. But I want to be married first.” He shrugs. “I’ve seen too many people heartbroken over what they didn’t need to give away. That’s not going to be me.” He smiles softly and my heart breaks free of my guard. It does cartwheels. “And I definitely refuse to risk the heart of a girl I like. I’ve waited seventeen years. I can wait longer.”

“But what if you don’t get married until you’re thirty-five?”

“Then I am in for a very long and frustrating wait.”

“You’d really want to wait?”

“Well, I’m hoping I won’t have to wait that long.” He leans over and flips on NPR. “Do you mind?”

I shake my head and watch him settle into our old morning routine. I pretend to gaze out the window, processing everything he said.

I’ve never realistically contemplated waiting until marriage. I wrote it off somewhere between watching MTV’s Spring Break and my friendship with Marissa. It didn’t seem possible. Could a relationship even work out if your first time having sex was on your wedding night? How can you know if you’re marrying the right guy?

My grandparent’s marriage comes to mind. Grandma told me all about their honeymoon last summer while she sipped a mimosa on the deck with Mom. Mom left but I stayed for the details. Somehow it wasn’t that weird coming from Grandma. That’s how their marriage worked. She assured me it was worth the wait. And, here they are today, fifty-five years married. Today, the divorce rate is over fifty percent. I have no idea if Mom or Dad had sex before their wedding night and, honestly, I don’t want to know. That’s one conversation I’ve successfully avoided.

“Do you think I’m ridiculous?” Justin teases, interrupting my thoughts.

“Oh no. I just,” I sigh. “I’ve never met anyone like you. That’s all.” My heart swoons with the truth of my words. Somehow Justin’s commitment makes me want to be his girlfriend even more. It feels counterintuitive.

Justin chuckles. I can’t help but let out a small sigh of delight. Crap.

“Well,” he smiles, “I’m glad you’ve met me then.”

I nod and force myself to turn back toward the window. My defenses have given up and my heart can’t be trusted on its own. I focus out the window, expecting to watch the bushes that hide the low wired fence of the Cross-Town Highway. My eyes fall on a high noise barrier instead.

“Wait. Where are we going?”

“It took you a while.”

“We aren’t painting?”

He shakes his head and nods toward my hands. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” I stretch my fingers and bend my palms. They aren’t even bandaged anymore. Minnesota’s white, domed capital rises in the distance. “Why are we going to St. Paul?”

“Finishing that research project.” He pulls off the highway onto Grand Ave. I eye Summit Hill, a steep, small road that cuts straight up the natural cliff of the river valley. “You aren’t going to try to drive this thing up that are you?”

“Yup. She can handle it.” He pats the steering wheel in encouragement. The light turns green and I grasp the bottom of my seat. The motor huffs and sputters as we climb. We no longer face forward but up. I am certain we are going to flip over backwards. I close my eyes and brace myself. Every other calamity seems to happen in my life. Why not this too?

Justin laughs as the truck makes a choking noise. “Lucy, you can stop white-knuckling it. We made it.” I open my eyes. “Aw, come on! Eyes closed? You missed all the fun.” He nods back down the hill. “We can do it again if you’d like?”

“Never again.” I glare at him in response. “Not in this junker.”

“Shhh. You’ll hurt Thelma’s feelings.” The truck sputters as he pulls up to Summit Avenue's stop sign. I decide not to humor him with asking about the truck’s name.

We drive a bit before parking along the street. I climb out of the truck, recognizing a few of the homes from the Victorian volumes I studied. Justin follows me with my notes from last week.

“Where are we going?”

He nods as he puts his hand on my shoulder, turning me around and away from him. “There.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

I stare at the massive stone structure of the James J. Hill House. The mansion with the striking carriage entrance looks stunning against the lavender morning sun. The grand chimneys that split through the aged roof have a beautiful green tone to them. Graceful arches of brick protect the entrance. The mansion is beautiful.

“I’m bidding to paint it,” Justin explains. “It’s a huge job, a hard job. But it’d be an awesome job.”

“It’s stone,” I point out the obvious.

Justin laughs at me, putting his hand on my back as he leads me across the street toward the mansion. “Look closer. There are hundreds of windows to trim and other small nooks. The exterior is all about the details. Plus,” he nods toward the entrance and smiles, “the inside has lots of walls to paint.”

“That would take all year.”

“A couple, actually. If we got the job, we’d start next fall.”

“But won’t you be away at school?”

He shrugs. “I got into the Carlson School of Management at the University of Minnesota. It’s ten minutes away. I should be able to swing it.”

“But how will you have time to paint?”

“I’ll paint a bit but mostly Troy will hire appropriately.”

“He’s not going to college?”

“He’s going to pick up an associate in business during the evenings. He’s never been big on school. He loves to paint and he really is a great manager. If I snag this gig, the experience will set Troy up for a successful career.”

“And you?”

“Well,” he laughs. “I’ll be able to afford college.”

He opens the notebook to a blank page. “We need to gather notes so I can build a realistic proposal.” He walks up to the door of the carriage entrance.

“I don’t think if you knock they’re going to let you in.”

“Oh yeah?” Justin knocks loudly. Moments later, the door swings open. “Hi, Mason,” Justin says as he steps into the mansion. “This is Lucy.” I follow him through the door. The woodwork is dark and stunning. I remember it vaguely from my tour in second grade.

“Nice to meet you.” A middle-aged gentleman extends his hand. I shake it and he grasps the back of my hand with his other hand in an old-fashioned shake. “I’m Mason. I have the honor of being the groundskeeper here and,” he eyes Justin, “your personal tour guide.” He weaves my arm through his as he walks me out of the entryway and into the grand entrance. I gasp at the staircase looming before me. I turn back to Justin. “How did you get us in before hours?”

He shrugs. “They like me.”

“We’re old family friends,” Mason explains. Justin walks past us, examining cracks in the paint near the baseboards. Mason drops his voice, “Also, it helps when your dad’s the governor.”

“He’s not the governor, Mason,” Justin insists as he sits down on the ground to get a closer look.

“Not yet,” Mason playfully taunts. Justin ignores him.

Mason proves to be a delightful tour guide. Justin surveys every room, jotting notes as he examines the trim, fireplaces, walls, and wallpaper. I, on the other hand, can’t even think about painting. I allow myself to get lost in the grandeur of the space and swept up in Mason’s captivating story-telling of the mansion’s rich railroad history.

Mason shows us every nook and cranny of the house. Most people only see a few rooms, never the offices and certainly never the rooms that aren’t safe for large touring groups, like the children’s theatre and schoolroom.

Our tour ends at the top of the grand stairway. Mason drags Justin away from the wallpaper. He nods to me and the steps. “You aren’t going to let this lovely girl walk down these stairs alone, are you?” I open my mouth to protest but Mason shakes his head at me. “Don’t be so modern.” He slips my arm through Justin’s. The butterflies that I have worked so hard to keep dormant spring to life. “You can’t miss this opportunity.”

Justin nods down the stairs. “Shall we?” he asks with a proper voice and a joking smile.

“We shall.” I force myself to stand up straight and play the part. It is the only way I'm getting through this without falling deeply in love. I nod toward the steps and we start descending.

Mason’s voice echoes behind us as we arrive at the first landing, turning down toward the grand room. “Now Lucy, just imagine a crowd of people. All eyes are on you as you descend gracefully to greet them below.” Justin stifles a laugh as Mason speaks gracefully. I elbow him. “They look at you in awe and you know you are the most beautiful girl in the room,” Mason adds.

Justin doesn’t say anything this time. He leads me down the stairs. My heart flutters with my arm in his. I need this to end, soon. I lean forward, trying to quicken our pace. Justin feels my cue so, naturally, he goes even slower. He snickers at me when we finally reach the bottom.

“Beautifully done.” Mason tromps down the stairs behind us. “Now to the exterior.”

The exterior tour is brief. He points out the wooden trim and siding up high in the window eves. I don’t even try to strain my eyes against the sun to see the spaces. Instead I wander over to the side of the mansion and place my hand on the stone work. Each stone is rugged and cool beneath my touch. I respectfully step away from the mansion.

“I see you’re in love,” Mason offers. My stomach flips over as I glance at Justin who is shielding his eyes from the sun. Mason smiles at me and nods toward the mansion, “The house has that effect on people.”

“Yes, it’s beautiful. Thank you for this opportunity. I’ll never forget it.”

Mason laughs and eyes Justin. I blush. “No one ever does.” He winks at me as he walks away. “Justin. I’ve got to get to work. Can you see yourself around front?”

“Absolutely. Thanks, Mason.” Justin walks toward me, still shielding his eyes from the sun as he examines the upper windows. I wave goodbye to Mason.

Justin jots down one last note before shutting the notebook and turning toward me. “So, wasn’t that better than painting?”

“That was incredible.”

“I know. I’ve been in love with this place forever. Mason used to let us play lawn games here on the Fourth of July when we were little. I can’t believe I might get the chance to work here. Let’s go grab breakfast. I need to pick your brain.” He hands me the notebook. “Over the research.” He pulls out his phone and hands it to me. “You should check in with your folks. I’ll wait in the car.”

I slide the screen to unlock his iPhone. He has three missed texts, two from Allison and one from a girl named Hannah. I sigh. It is only nine a.m. Jennifer was right. He doesn’t get a break.

***

We return to the association as the crew’s breakfast break ends. Justin rounds up Troy and shows him the notes. He doesn’t notice me climb into the truck to grab my supplies. I find Alex and get right to work. I immediately find my rhythm, brushing the blue primer over a faded brown.

The rest of the day is everything I need. It is normal. Troy even manages to keep his distance. Other than Alex’s guidance, Luke is my only interrupter. He begs me to call Laura because she’s going to drag him jeans shopping with her. He swears it’s his living nightmare. He makes sure I dial before he leaves.

Laura answers on the first ring. “Oh, thank the lawd,” she says with her Southern twang. “I think I was driving Luke crazy. So, are you up for it?”

I giggle. She obviously forced Luke to make me call her.