“Got it,” she said, and held it up. “I can handle this part.”
The front yard looked almost normal three hours later as they raked up the last of the debris. Eric pulled a trash bag out
of a roll he’d set up on the porch and came over. “Hold the bag, I’ll shovel.”
“
You
hold the bag and
I’ll
shovel,” she said.
He wiped his sweaty forehead with his shirtsleeve and squinted from the bright sunlight. Then he flapped the bag open. “Yes,
ma’am.”
She poured the trash into the bag and watched him. She never thought she’d find a dirty, sweaty man appealing, but
God
, he was sexy. “You haven’t become one of these macho guys who thinks girls can’t do anything, have you?”
“Of course not.” He frowned. “Why would you ask that?”
“You’re doing a bit of micromanaging.”
“Sorry, I like my crew to be safe. Men
and
women.”
And he’d been guiding the other guys as well, if she were honest. “Did it look like I wasn’t being safe?”
“No. I guess I have been keeping my eye on you a little more closely.” He winked. “You’re much more enjoyable to watch than
those two guys.”
She poured the last of the trash into the plastic bag. “Should we pour some of the crap you’re dishing out in here, too?”
He laughed and tied the bag. “Time for the inside.”
He tossed the full trash bag into the bin and headed into the house. The guys followed him. He gave some orders in pitiful
Spanish.
“Eric, honey,” she said, pulling him aside. “
Rompan
los cabinetes y
tirenlo
en la basura. Not romper los cabinetes y tirar a la basura.” She was amused and a bit appalled at his poorly spoken Spanish.
He shrugged sheepishly. “They understand what I’m saying.”
The guys began breaking cabinets apart. Pounding and kicking them to pieces. Victoria stepped out of the way as wood and tile
crashed around her. Eric was right; they had understood his meaning. It took them less than twenty minutes to completely tear
apart the kitchen. She couldn’t believe it. Once the sounds of splintering wood and shattering ceramic stopped, and the dust
cleared, Victoria carried away as many chunks of broken cabinets as she could. The guys put down their hammers and electric
screwdrivers and helped.
As soon as they made enough space on the floor to continue working, they started hammering kitchen walls until the dry-wall
broke to pieces. They ripped out carpet and pulled off linoleum.
“Eric, what about if we take out this half wall?” A half wall separated the entrance from the livingroom. It created a more
defined entryway but at the same time blocked the traffic flow into and out of the house.
He wiped his forehead on his sleeve and glanced her way. “No, I like it.”
“If we take it out, I think you’d like it better. The room will look larger.”
“Yeah, but I like the separation. Makes the entrance stand out. Almost like it’s its own room.”
Even though she disagreed, this was his house, so she decided to let it go. “Okay.”
“Don’t you think the entrance should stand out?” Eric asked.
“Yes, but it already does. You don’t need something obvious like a half wall to announce to visitors that this is the entrance.
But if you like it this way, that’s okay.”
“Hmm,” he said, and got back to work.
Victoria, too, moved on to other things. She took down all the old lighting fixtures, carried trash out, swept, and when her
stomach grumbled she checked her watch and noticed it was almost two in the afternoon. So she dropped everything, washed her
hands outside with a hose, and went for a late lunch run.
As if they hadn’t eaten in a month, the guys devoured the giant garbage burritos—appropriately named for containing everything
but the kitchen sink—and slurped down the monster sodas. And Victoria herself practically inhaled her smaller bean and rice
burrito. And she didn’t even feel guilty eating the heavy meal. She’d had quite a workout already.
Eric sat beside her, sipping on his soda when he finished eating. “I appreciate you being here today. You didn’t have to be
involved in this part.”
“
Now
you tell me,” she said, then smiled. “I wanted to be here.”
“Thanks for picking up lunch.”
She ate the last bite and wiped her lips. “No problem.”
He gazed sleepily at her.
“What?”
“I never thought I’d be sitting across from you, casually eating lunch again. It’s weird.”
“Weren’t you ever planning to return home?”
He shook his head. “Nope.” He stood and tossed his trash into a plastic bag. “I wasn’t ever going to come back.” He patted
his stomach as if satisfied. “Back to work.”
She got on her feet, too. “Hey, wait a minute. You can’t leave me with just that. Why weren’t you ever going to come back?”
“I didn’t think there was anything for me here anymore. Come on.” He jerked his head toward the house.
“What about your parents? Didn’t you miss them?”
“Honest?”
“That would be nice.”
He offered one nod. “I was young and angry when I left. I missed the easy home-cooked meals and the comforts of home. I didn’t
miss my parents the first couple of years. It was them I was trying to get away from.”
“Where did you go?”
He narrowed his gaze and stared out at the yard. “All over. I stayed in the States for a while. Paid my dad’s debts off, then
took off to Europe with some friends. Traveled all over until I ran out of money.” He chuckled. “My friends magically disappeared
then. So I came back to America and started seriously working in real-estate investment. The last two years I’ve been in Austin.
Nice college town. Lots of culture, believe it or not.”
“So why did you come home?”
He glanced at her. “I don’t know.”
But she thought he did know. He just didn’t want to say that he’d gotten lonely. That he’d needed to reconnect with his past.
That it was inevitable for people to return home. “That’s okay. It’s not always important to know every why.”
Then he turned and placed a hand on her lower back. “Thanks.”
She followed him inside. His helpers did, too.
“Here,” Eric handed her the sledgehammer.
“What?” He didn’t actually think she was going to swing that heavy, oversized hammer at anything, did he?
“I’ve decided you’re right about that half wall.”
She smiled, pleased that he had decided to trust her, and follow her first major recommendation. “Good. It’s going to make
a big difference in here.”
He put the sledgehammer in her hands and walked her to the wall. “Go for it.”
“I don’t think—”
“Come on,” he coaxed. “Give it a good swing. You wounded me with that comment of me being a macho construction worker, so
come on.”
She eyed him skeptically. She might be big, but that didn’t mean she was strong. Still, he looked so excited about her tearing
down that wall. So she lifted the heavy, menacing-looking tool and swung it at the stuccoed wall. It made a small dent.
Eric laughed. “I could have made a bigger hole if I kicked it. Slam the damn thing.”
Victoria nodded, lifting the sledgehammer with more determination.
Eric stood beside her making an ugly face. “Hard. Think of putting it clear through to the other side.”
The other two men came to watch.
Victoria pulled it back as far as she could and swung, hitting the dry wall and chipping a piece off. A small piece. She pulled
back again and hit it again and again and again. The men all cheered and yelled things like “Slam it,” “Think of your ex-boyfriend,”
“You got it.”
Finally, the muscles in her arms started to burn, and she was laughing too much to continue. She stepped back, and all the
guys lunged forward as if they were just waiting to take over. They kicked at the wood beams that were left until the entire
wall lay in pieces on the floor. Then they cheered, congratulated each other, and patted her on the back. The entire episode
reeked of too much testosterone, so she allowed Eric to dust her off and take the sledgehammer out of her hands. “Wasn’t that
fun?” he asked
“A blast,” she said, breathing heavily.
He laughed. “That’s how I’m going to feel when you start asking me what color carpet matches what color walls and what flooring
works best with what cabinets.”
“I wasn’t going to ask you.”
“Well, then.” He stepped back. “I’ve hired the right woman for the job.”
By nightfall, she understood why he said she wouldn’t have to work out if she helped him. Not only had her arms gotten a workout,
but with all the trips she’d made to the Dumpster she must have walked ten miles. Even her back was sore.
He sat on the front porch steps drinking his hundredth soda. She finished sweeping up the last of the broken glass and tile,
then joined him. It was still warm outside, but a breeze was starting to cool things off. This was actually her favorite time
of day. Birds flew from tree to tree trying to find just the right spot to settle in for the night. Some mowers could be heard
in the background as people got home from work and tackled the chore. The air was scented with cooking smells coming from
neighboring kitchens and outdoor grills. From the relaxed look on Eric’s face, she guessed it was his favorite time of day,
too. And from the look of the house right now, this was the best place to be.
“We didn’t leave a thing intact in there,” she said.
With a lazy grin, he turned to look at her. “Demo is always the most fun.”
“Yes, I saw the look of satisfaction on your face when you took your sledgehammer to those bathroom cabinets earlier. A lot
of hidden aggression, I think.”
“You think correctly.” He placed a hand on her knee. “Thanks for your help.”
Every time he touched her—and he did so a lot—she became instantly aware of him as a man. Strong and confident and so different
from the boy he used to be. She had to continuously remind herself that this flirtatious man
was
just Eric. “No problem. It was sort of fun, even if it looks like all we’ve done is mess up a perfectly good house.”
“I’ve got about a six- to eight-week window to get this all done. If we finish by the end of September, I’ll only have to
make two house payments. I can put the house on the market in October. Tomorrow, I’d like you to pick out the kitchen cabinets
and appliances, because they take the longest to come in. I’ll give you my American Express and your limit.”
“Ah, shopping. Now you’re talking.”
“Remember, we want nice, but we don’t want to go overboard.”
“You sure you want me doing this?”
He squeezed her knee and let go. “Positive.”
“Okay. Then I’m off to take a shower and go to sleep. I’m exhausted.” She stood.
“Victoria.”
“Hmm?”
“’Night,” he said, though she was sure that wasn’t at all what he wanted to say.
“Good night, Eric.”
He watched her, making no move to get up and go anywhere. He wanted to sit outside by himself for a little while. After so
many years on his own, he enjoyed the solitude. Although he could have sat on this porch talking to Victoria all night. Once
they got this place cleaned up, he’d take possession of one of the rooms and move in. Life was looking up.
Victoria took a long, warm, heavily scented shower, absorbing the moisture into her pores and relaxing her tired muscles.
Then she wrapped herself in a long bathrobe and brushed her teeth. Wiping the steam off the mirror with a towel, she gazed
at herself. If someone had told her last month that she was going to be hammering walls with Eric Ortelli, considering going
into business for herself,
and
maybe going back to college, she would have told them they were on drugs. All of that involved work. Not to mention a belief
that she could be successful with any of it.
She let the bathrobe fall and turned to look in the full-length mirror on the bathroom door. Her belly bulged forward. Her
hips flared way further than the natural bone and muscle structure forced them to. Rolls of fat padded her back and her legs.
Her breasts were large, but they actually looked firm and good. She had one thing going for her.
Mentally cringing, she pulled out the scale. The red digital numbers lit up and rewarded her with a number that said she was
five pounds lighter than she was two weeks ago. Amazing. In the adjoining bedroom, her cell phone played Beyoncé. Victoria
hurriedly slipped on the bathrobe and reached for her phone.
“Hey, Carmen.”
“You sound out of breath,” Carmen said. “What were you doing?”
“Nothing fun. I just got out of the shower.”
“Well, I have something to confess.”
Victoria sat on her bed. When someone confessed something, it usually wasn’t good. “Yeah?”
“I enrolled in business classes this year instead of the planned genetics, metabolic biochemistry, and molecular structure
classes. I need to see if there’s something I’m better at than all those science courses.”
“Better? Carmen, you’re an excellent student. You can’t do much better than straight As.”
“I struggle for those grades and the next aren’t going to look so good. Labs didn’t go well.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m trying something different. Hopefully, you and Dad won’t freak.”
“Why would
I
freak?”
“You might not agree with what I have in mind.”
“Which is?”
“Let’s see how I do in these business classes first, then we’ll talk.”
Business?
Victoria wasn’t following. “Carmen, you can always talk to me, you know?”
“I know.”
“Okay. I’ve got something to confess, myself.”
“You found a guy and he’s not Argentine.”
“Worse. I quit La Parrilla.” She told Carmen the whole story, even the part about working with Eric.
“Oh, my God. I’m speechless, Victoria.”
“Think I’m crazy?”
“No! I think it’s all great. I love that Dad’s planning to have more than one restaurant. And you being a professional designer?
What can be more perfect?”
“Dad’s really pissed at me. I hurt him, Carmen.” The line was silent for a few seconds too long. “Carmen?”