Page 6 of When We Were More
Now I’m angry. Holden was charming and lighthearted, but this guy is… He’s… Well, I’m not sure what he is exactly, but it’s annoying me.
“One of your workers littered in my driveway, then urinated in my bathroom—which is fine, normally—but he leaves this messanddoesn’t even bother to flush. As a side note, he obviously needs to hydrate based on how dark that pee is. You should tell him.” Henry grimaces. I haven’t finished. “Then he pees on my toilet rim, leaves my toilet seat up, and is he done? Nope. He left me the special treat of his piss on my floor. Thenyouimply maybe I did that? Newsflash, I didn’t. And I’m not cleaning some rando’s urine off my floor. Got it?”
Phew. That was a lot, but it’s good to get it out. I’m impressed I managed it. I’m assertive professionally, but outside of work, Istruggle to have difficult or emotional conversations. Not today, though. Apparently, this man brings out an ugly side of me.
A deep flush fills his cheeks, and I hope it’s because he at least has enough professionalism to be embarrassed about the situation.
He looks around the room again, then asks, “Can you give me a minute or two so I can take some pictures to use when we address this with the worker?” I glare at him and walk out of the bathroom without saying anything.
When I get back to the living room, I sit on the arm of the couch while I wait. A twinge of guilt rushes over me because I’m aware I’m being harsh, but I’ve also had a day that left me with minimal fucks to give. Plus, he did show up at my house unannounced at six in the evening and ruined my dinner plans. Yes, it was only a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but he still messed it up.
The sound of a toilet flushing gets my attention. Why was Henry gone so long? I swear I’ve been sitting here for five minutes. How long does it take to snap a couple of photos? I walk back to the bathroom and find him aggressively scrubbing his hands in the sink, a scowl on his face. I peer past him and notice he has cleaned up the mess.
I can’t bring myself to thank him because he’s been a bit sassy with me, too, but I still feel a little bad for him.
“It sucks that you had to clean up your coworkers’ mess. You should talk to your boss and see about getting that guy remediated on how to behave.” I lean against the door frame and watch him. As he dries his hands, a chuckle escapes him. Odd to be laughing after wiping up your colleague’s urine, but okay.
“Yeah, thanks. I’ll take it under advisement.”
“What’s funny about that? You should report him for making that mess. If you’re not comfortable, I’ll call Holden and report it myself. He gave me his personal number when he was here.”
Henry’s smile disappears. “I’ll take care of the reporting. Can you show me the work area?”
“That area is fine. You don’t need to check it. Let me show you out.”
“I do need to see it, ma’am. I need to see the whole area since it’s acomplaint. Not a concern. Boss’s rules.”
I brush off the ‘ma’am’ this time. It’s not worth arguing since he’ll be gone momentarily.
“Sounds to me like perhaps your boss is a bit controlling. But whatever.”
He chuckles again, and I like the sound. A lot. It makes me dislike him more because I don’t wantto likeanythingabout him. I steer clear of men like him. Men with that slight edge. They could go either way. Henry could end up being super-hot and an amazing guy, or he could turn into a controlling asshole that constantly criticizes you and makes you feel small. Either way, it doesn’t matter. I haven’t gone on even a single date since leaving Joe. After the fiasco with him, I’m not eager to dip my toe back in that pool.
“Yeah, something like that. Will you please show me the work area?”
I might as well get this over with, so I turn and make my way to the kitchen. When I’m halfway there, I glance back and notice he’s not moving.
“Well, are you gonna follow me or what?” I don’t know what it is about this guy. I’m usually easygoing and polite. But apparently not with him.
He mumbles something under his breath that I can’t quite catch, then follows me. When we get to the kitchen, the entire area is gutted, except a few things that were must-leave-ins for me. I’m definitely keeping the original cabinets and the wide plank wood floors I love. The trim is also staying, though it has been removed for now and stacked off to the side. My great-grandfather did all this work himself. The trim work, though it’s not fancy, is original and precise. The math nerd in me loves all the angles and how they fit perfectly together.
Henry considers the space, and he walks over to run his hand along the old farmhouse cabinets. There’s a slight smile on his handsome face. Next, he ambles to the window where the sink was and peers through it.
“The view from here is fabulous, with the rolling hills and woods. Probably made washing dishes here not too bad, huh?” He never takes his eyes off the window.
I don’t say anything to him. Instead, I get lost reminiscing about my summers as a child, when it was my turn to do dishes. I would stand here and stare outside, eager to get back out there again to play. It is a gorgeous view.
Once I get back out of my head, I find he’s kneeling on the floor, running his hand over the hickory plank in the corner, and then inspecting the trim work that’s lying off to the side.
“Did they not clean this up, or is what’s left the stuff you plan to keep?” He’s glancing down at the pile of trim pieces.
“I’m keeping them. Not only for the aesthetic, either. They mean something to me.”
He gives me a genuine smile. “Yeah? Family home?” Hmm. Hecanact civilized. Go figure.
He stands, and I can’t help but notice how nicely he fills out his jeans. He’s something to look at. I’m suddenly aware that I dressed like a scrub in my sweatpants and sweatshirt that’s well past its prime when I got home. But I don’t like him, so who cares, right?
“Yep. My great-grandparents built it. I love it here.” Emotions well up inside me, and I’m not letting him see that. It’s time for him to leave.
