Page 3 of I Choose You
I shoved a forkful of food into my mouth. Why couldn’t they just keep talking around me?
“David Pratchett asked me to take on the Delano Library project, but I said no. I’m not taking on that job. That place is fuc…freaking haunted.” I’d been trying to watch my language ever since Jane came into our lives. She was still too young to understand any of it, but one day, she wouldn’t be, and if the first word out of her mouth was “fuck,” I didn’t want it to be on me.
“It is not,” my father said.
Luke and Wyatt both nodded their heads at me.
“Yes, it fucking is,” Wyatt shouted, apparently not as concerned about Jane’s vocabulary as I was. “There’s the ghost in the basement, always making the lights flicker.”
“That’s why it needs new electrical,” my father said sagely.
“You could hear her moaning, all ghoul-like and creepy,” Luke added with a shiver.
“That was the boiler, dumbass,” my father said, less sagely.
“Oh, my goodness,” Maeve exclaimed. “I remember, before it closed, how books would literally fly off the shelves. It was so spooky.”
“See, Dad? Even Maeve agrees that place is haunted. I’m not taking on that project.”
My father rolled his eyes, shaking his head.
“Besides,” I continued. “I don’t have the time for that right now, and he wants to get started right away. They have to spend a certain amount of money this calendar year or something like that,” I told them. I had been building my business from the ground up for years, starting as the town handyman and working my way up to small repairs and basic construction jobs. Earlier this year, I had been able to sign up some high-profile work showcasing some more intricate craftsmanship.
A job like this could put me on the map as a master craftsman. It would have been a dream come true a few months ago, but my heart hadn’t been in it lately. A job like this would take up all my time and energy. It was a huge undertaking.
“What else do you have going on that you don’t have the time for something as big as this?” Luke asked with his arms crossed in front of his chest. “This could be a huge opportunity for you.”
“Leave him be,” Juliet chided.
Thank you, Jules.
“He’s still emotional,” she added.
I clenched my jaw in annoyance. Everyone had been on my case lately about my grumpy attitude. It always came back to the breakup. Like a guy couldn’t just be in a shit mood sometimes. Maybe my shit mood started a few months ago, and maybe it hadn’t really let up since, but would it kill them to cut a guy some slack?
My father spoke up, twisting the sentimental knife in deep. “David was always one of your mother’s favorite people. He was the reason she started with the Historical Society to begin with. She used to give these impromptu tours to the tourists whenever she would see them eyeing one of the historical sites. When David became the head of the society, he called her up and asked if she wanted to do the tours officially.”
The table fell silent. Sheila reached out and grabbed my father’s hand, giving it a little squeeze. He turned to her and smiled softly.
My shoulders slumped in defeat. Fuck. It looked like I was taking on a creepy-as-hell historical library renovation.
* * *
I parked my pickup in front of the Calla Bay Town Hall and shut off the engine. Massive oak front doors welcomed me into the historic brick building. The floors were polished and shined hardwood. Steel castings framed the doors, which were also made from the same heavy oak hardwood. The moldings and finishes were intricately designed and meticulously maintained.
This level of craftsmanship hadn’t been seen in generations.
I wanted to bring it back.
I wanted to be known as the carpenter, the craftsman, who left behind buildings like this.
David Pratchett and the Calla Bay chair of selectmen, Frank Ahmad, were meeting with me in a small conference room to go over the details of the Delano Library renovation. David had already mentioned to me that they would want to get started right away, but I was still a little taken aback when we were going over the plans and Frank told me he wanted me on-site on Monday.
“I’ve got a couple of jobs lined up that I’ve already committed to,” I told them. “I can’t just bail on them last minute. I’ll need another two weeks to get everything completed before I can start on this. Besides, I’d like to take a little time to go over the plans on my own so I can really get an understanding of what this will entail.”
“Two weeks?” Frank’s eyes rounded, and he infused as much righteous surprise into his voice as possible, but I wasn’t buying his act.
“Nonnegotiable. I won’t be that contractor that pushes people’s projects back or overcommits his schedule. Let me finish what I’m working on, then I can get started on this and give it my full attention.”
