Page 14 of Secrets That Bind Us
Zoey eyes her, then me, and we both twist our mouths to the side. “It almost didn’t.” She says honestly.
“What happened, if I can ask.”
Zoey snorts and it makes me laugh. “More like whatdidn’thappen.”
I sip my coffee. “Let’s just say, saying sorry goes a long way, Em. We’re both stubborn as mules.”
“We can go days or weeks without talking. But when we do pick back up, it’s like we never fell off.”
“It helps that we learned we didn’t revolve around the other a long time ago but are more than happy to stay in each other’s orbits.” I pause. “Also helps that we know too many secrets about the other. It’s so toxic. What if we break up and she decides to spill? Too risky.” I tsk, jokingly.
“Verity.” Zoey warns.
“I’m just saying.” I sigh and roll my eyes, biting my lip to keep from cracking a smile. God, it really does feel good to be home.
“Well, whaddaya think?”
Like I’m having immediate déjà vu from my earlier conversation with Zoey– except this time, it’s William Cunningham Jr. pointing to a blueprint in the middle of my mother’s kitchen island. A blueprint that will interconnect the study to the primary suite, connect the attic to my old childhood bedroom to create an open loft for Sav to paint and jam out on her guitar. Knock down the wall from the guest bedroom, build a new wall in the middle of it to Noah’s to make his room larger and the last guest bedroom smaller. In total, we’re making the four bedrooms upstairs into three larger ones, a small guest bedroom and the primary bedroom into a primarysuitewith a large study.
If we’ll be living here for a year, (ick) we’ll be living comfortably.
“The rewiring?”
“Total about eight weeks.” Will replies, pencil in hand– but he makes quick work tucking it behind his ear.
“If you hire more people?”
Blue eyes meet mine, but they’re the wrong shade of blue. Or maybe they’re the right shade, and he’s just the wrong man. He tilts his head side toside, doing the math in his head. He was always good at math. “Six. Weather permitting.”
I cross an arm over my chest and under my breasts, cup my elbow, bringing my fingers to the charm on my necklace. I gaze out of the kitchen window, watching the second section of Will and Jay’s crew doing whatever a construction crew does to build a pool. Houses, I know. Pools, I do not. “It doesn’t rain till the evening of the Fourth of July here, Will.”
He huffs out what sounds like a chuckle. This one isn’t full of malice. Not like back then. "You remember that, do ya?”
I remember everything. I don’t say. Even more I did my best to forget. “Get more workers here. There’s a second project I’ll need you to work on in town– if everything goes according to plan and I like the work you do here.”
“Yeah, my cousin Jay told me about that.”
I sigh. Seems word still travels fast around these parts.
“Nah, Emory’s dating Jay.” He says, letting me know I said that out loud.
“The basement?” I ask, choosing to ignore what could lead to gossip. The basement is an old storm shelter I want turned into a game room for the kids– where they can feel comfortable bringing friends over and hanging out. It’ll also be a storage area for whatever we need to store, including moving the furnace and boiler to a different section.
“About that…”
I turn to look at him. The clear tarps, currently being used like curtains, section off the living and dining areas from my mother’s kitchen behind his tall frame. Everything behind him is blurry, the light peeking in through the old blinds tells me it’s close to midday. I raise a brow in question, waiting for him to speak.
“Seems one of the walls is smaller than the original blueprints.”
“I’m not worried about that. I want to know if you can make the changes we talked about.”
He nods.
“How long?” I take a good look at Will. He’s still rakishly handsome with an athletic build from working outside, the tan to go along with. Sandy blonde hair, matching brows, but now there’s tiny patches of silver in his scruffy beard. He smells like outside, sawdust, and leather. If I breathe in too deeply, it almost reminds me of my dad.So I don’t.
“My guys don’t want to work down there.” He finally says.
I tilt my head at Will. Will, who I’ve known since second grade. Big Bad Will, who hung out with Tiffany’s crew. Who made sure I was miserable during Geometry our sophomore year. I’m amazed they didn’t get marriedand spawn little demons. I hold in my smirk at that. Actually, I’m really surprised Evelyn even gave him a chance. He was such a… a douchebag.
