Page 137 of As the Rain Falls
“Oh, I’m good. Why?”
“Looking a little tense, that’s all.”
“Yeah, well. Did you know Well used to be a carpenter before he retired?” I quickly switch back to our previous topic of conversation, trying not to think about all the things they are going to do together while Antony and I drive towards the opposite direction. “That’s what he’s been teaching me. I’ve been thinking about putting in some extra time to make my apprenticeship end faster, but I don’t know yet if I’ll get the time throughout the summer.”
“You want to become a carpenter?” Antony’s eyebrows shoot up. “No way.”
“He works on some real fancy shit, actually.” I grin, thinking about some of Well’s most elaborate commissions. It’s not cheap, especially with shipping, but his pieces can last a lifetime. I really like the idea of that. “Your mother’s new bookshelf? The one for the fancy dictionaries?”
“Yeah.”
“We’re building it.” I roll the wheel to get the car to take the roundabout. “It’s almost ready to go, actually.”
“You’re serious?” Tony stares, his surprise morphing into genuine interest. “What are you now? Some blond version of Bob the Builder?
“Ok, fuck off.”
“This is hilarious!”
“It’s notthatfunny.”
“For you? Yes, it is!”
I relent as my cheeks start to heat up. “Maybe I like to build things. That’s not a reason to make fun of me.”
Not that I’m ashamed of it. Icouldhave gone to college, but I just didn’t want to. I wanted out of something that clearly wasn’t going to work for me like it did for others, and for once I wasn’t afraid to make that choice. Zero regrets.
“I’m not,” he promises, almond eyes softening. “I swear, I’m not. I think it’s brave, really.”
I find myself wincing. “I don’t know about that.”
“It is,” Antony reassures me, clearing his throat. “I’d love to do something else, too. Maybe filmmaking, like… short documentaries.”
“That sounds really cool,” I admit softly, trying to picture it.
Antony can be artistic when he wants to be. He has a good eye for pretty things and knows how to pose really well.Lucialovedto sketch his side profile, and he does have a bit of a crooked nose, which adds to his charm. Imagining him behind a camera, though, just feels right.It really suits him.
“Maybe I’ll make one about us. Living here. Traveling to different places and doing nothing all day.”
I laugh, “Sounds like a plan, Tony.”
We drive for another ten minutes before we get to his house. Antony lives in a fairly new neighborhood near the coast, his house only a five-minute walk fromLe Pêcheur, a good spot for fishing.
The Silvas used to live in Port des Ondes, but Tony’s mother thought the fancy neighbors weren’t worth the trouble of being so far away from the city center. This is definitely more of a lively street to live in compared to the quiet I always hear back home. I can tell why she’d want to raise the twins here instead.
They moved out three years ago. Lucia completely flipped out because of it. She might’ve been fourteen, but having Antony’s presence so close was very important to her. My sister absolutely clung to him that year to the point of obsession. I caught him sneaking into her bedroom late at night many times, but whenever I’d ask her about it, she’d only tell me the same things.
I just need him.
I don’t want to sleep in my bedroom without my boyfriend.
He makes me feel safe.
Never mind the fact that Tony and Lucia weren’t exactly together, and at some point he even started dating another girl. Let us not talk about Elisa. Her name got literally blacklisted from our household after they made it official. I sometimes wonder if he ever regrets trying to give anyone other than Lucia a shot. Not like she’d ever let him go, anyway.
At the time, Lucia just seemed dramatic. I didn’t question it, but now I’m thinking that maybe I should have. Maybe she wasn’t dealing with our family in the best way, and this boy became her safe place because she felt like she had no one else to run to.
I wish I could ask him about it without overstepping a boundary, but the topic is probably too sensitive to even approach without a warning. It’s better if I keep all my thoughts about their complicated history to myself.
