Page 34 of Delay of Game
“Fuck. That’s tomorrow?” I ran a hand over my face.
“That’s tomorrow.”
I sighed, frowning at the half-finished steps. “Well, that sucks.”
“Your mom called. She wanted to make sure that you made it home in time to see Mila before bed.”
I grabbed the muted phone in my pocket, turning on the screen long enough to see a string of missed calls and texts. “So, I’m in trouble?”
Her jaw flexed. “Not yet. But maybe wrap this up? What can I do to help?”
“Tell your mail carrier not to hate me?”
She laughed as she picked up the array of tools scattered around the steps, piling them into a nearby milk crate. I set the glass down and hefted up two bags of concrete, stacking them just inside the porch in case it rained. In no time, the yard was clear of construction debris.
“What can I do for the next time you come over?” Astrid asked expectantly.
I bit back a grin. Maybe it was some kindergarten teacher trick, but I liked the way she never made vague offers to help, instead asking specifically what she could do. “I’m off on Tuesday and have some free time on Sunday. I’ll finish the stairs and then move indoors. How about you empty the upstairs bathroom, and we’ll start with the floor?”
The laundry list of home repairs had been running through my head, taking up valuable space normally reserved for football plays and Mila’s schedule. I couldn’t get to it all. Not by a long shot. But in two months, I could help her with a few big projects that would help sell the house. And ripping up the barely attached linoleum in the bathrooms and laundry room was a good start.
She nodded resolutely. “I can do that.”
“We’ll need to make a trip to a store to pick up some flooring. Unless you can handle that on your own.”
“What do I need to get?”
“Click-Lock would be ideal. Something waterproof and vinyl. If you want to get a jump on it, pull up anything that isn’t glued down. I’ll lay vinyl over the top.”
“I can do that,” she said with enough confidence that I almost believed her.
I paused, conjuring up a lie. “I might have some planks left over from when I put flooring down in the brewery. Let me check first.”
The edge of her lips hiked up. “Okay. I’d invite you in for a drink, but you should probably get going. I’ll see you in the morning?”
I scratched the back of my neck, cement dust blooming from my clothes every time I moved. “Yeah. Any tips for tonight?”
Her green eyes lit up and she held up a finger. “Give me two seconds.”
She jogged back to the house with my glass, returning a few minutes later with a baggie full of glitter.
“You know glitter only makes thing worse, right?”
“It’s ‘Get Ready Confetti.’ Have her sprinkle it under her pillow to help her sleep and give her good dreams.”
I took the bag with a frown. “Does it also come with a vacuum to suck it out of the bed?”
“Oh, that’s a parent problem,” she grinned. The left side of her mouth pulled up slightly more than the right, and she tilted her head, compensating for the difference. I didn’t normally find anyone but Mila adorable, but Astrid looked pretty adorable.
“A parent problem, huh? Are there a lot of parent problems in kindergarten?”
“Unfortunately, yes. And first grade, and second, and third. Pretty much until they hit forty.”
“Are you suggesting that my mom still has parent problems?”
“I guarantee it. Tell Mila I said ‘hi’, and I’ll see both of you in the morning.”
I nodded, unlocking my truck. Astrid followed me to the driveway, waving goodbye as I left.
