Page 33 of Gracie Harris Is Under Construction

“That’s all fairly practical, so I assume there is another angle to it as well?”

“Yeah, the shitty angle and, basically, exactly what you’dexpect. It’s a lot of pressure to be two parents at once and try to do everything on my own. Between school events and sports teams and birthday parties, it’s just a ton to manage. Not to mention my work and writing schedule. That’s before we even get to the emotional side of things—therapy for me, therapy for the kids. I have no idea how single parents do it without such amazing friends and family willing to pitch in.”

“I only met them briefly, but your kids seem pretty great.”

This makes me blush and fills me with pride. Like a lot of parents, I think my kids are spectacular. What we three have been through in the last year has only deepened our bond.

“They really are fantastic. Ava is like a mini Ben in personality. She’s inquisitive, super friendly and social, and loves to try and see new things. Benji, of course, you know a bit about now. He really is a riot, but he’s naturally more introspective, like me.”

“I always thought it would be fun to have kids,” Josh admits, “but life seems to have other plans.” He doesn’t elaborate, and I don’t push him.

He starts to ask questions about my family, my job, and how I see my life in a year or two if the writing path works out for me. It feels good to share a bit of my life story with him and to imagine what might be waiting for me down a future road. All I can really think about, however, is how happy I am to have him back in the house after his few days away.

—

Before he headsout a few hours later, Josh catches me staring at the walls in the dining room.

“What’s going on in here?” he asks.

“Just thinking,” I reply, rotating my body completely around to consider the space and view from every angle.

“Do you usually brainstorm while staring at empty walls?” he says in a joking but curious tone.

“I’d really like to do a beautiful wallpaper in this room,” I tell him. “It feels like a spot in the house to do something fun and different, and I could choose a vintage pattern to fit with the era the house was built in.”

“What’s your hesitation?” he asks. Last week, I shared with him how it’s strange to make so many decisions by myself after two decades of always having Ben around to bounce ideas off of. Now he tries to act as a sounding board every time I have trouble with a new design choice.

“Wallpaper isn’t everyone’s thing,” I explain. “And I don’t want to do anything to hurt the resale value.”

The vibe in the room palpably shifts when I drop the wordsresale value. Josh takes a quick half step back away from me, and I realize that despite our hours of conversation and the deep secrets I’ve shared, never once have I mentioned getting rid of the house.

“You’d really sell this place?” Josh asks in a tone that makes his disappointment clear.

“Yes,” I say, before instantly adding, “Maybe? I don’t know.”

“I thought I was fixing this place up for you,” he says in a gruff voice, “not for random people that I’ll never meet.”

So far this summer, there has never been a time when I felt the need to manage Josh or his emotions. He’s just not that kind of guy. Right now, though, it feels necessary to keep our friendship on track. The whiplash between the Aaron thing followed by aheartfelt conversation and whatever is happening now is throwing me for a loop. I’m not proud to admit it, but my tactic is to play the dead-husband card.

“Ben and I bought this house and then he died, suddenly,” I tell him, or maybe remind him. This isn’t a fact that sits top of mind for most people. “That’s not me being dramatic, either, Josh. Literally ten days after our only other trip here, he died. For about nine months, texts from James were the only reminders that I actually owned a second house. My brain compartmentalized so many things, and I just couldn’t think about it.”

“That makes total sense,” he allows in a gentler tone. He’s been blindsided, though, so feelings are slipping through his usually calm demeanor and mannerisms.

“I guess I didn’t realize how attached to the house you are,” I say. “My intention wasn’t to make you upset or think that I don’t love the house. It’s really complicated.”

“Maybe I’m attached to the thought of you and your kids getting to enjoy it,” he says, immediately diverting his eyes from mine. “So many people come and go from Canopy, and I wanted to give you a reason to hang around.”

I smile at the sweet sentiment, but he’s done making eye contact.

“It’s important to me that you know I appreciate everything you’ve done—that you’re doing—for me. Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad, but I should go,” he says.

And just like that, he walks out the door without resolving the first disagreement of our friendship.

Chapter 15

“Any big plans today?” Joshasks while dropping off supplies for tomorrow’s next big project. “Any chance you’ve got a free couple of hours?”

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