Page 24 of Inherited Light
The reason I stopped over there to start with ran through my mind. She was absolutely right and I laughed a little, at myself, and took her hand from her lap. “You might be right. Cinn and I are close, and this morning I stopped in to get her advice about my career. I guess I’m afraid the choices I make may end up reflecting poorly on me. As a man, I’m supposed to be successful at everything.”
She held her hands out to her sides and grinned. “AndMa?aCat’s work here is done.”
I laughed and stood at the same time, slipping my arms under hers and lifting her from the chair, initiating a full contact hug. I swung her back and forth a few times before I realized what I had done and froze. “Tell me I’m not hurting you.”
She had her hands in my shirt in a death grip, but laughed softly next to my ear. “No, you aren’t hurting me. I don’t often get to stand up. I kind of like it.”
I lowered her enough so her feet balanced on mine, but I had hold of her tightly, since her legs were wobbly as spaghetti. “You’re beautiful, witty, vivacious, smart, and I’m guessing, since you have your own gallery, incredibly talented. Why are you hanging out with a goober like me?”
“You were a goober when you were eight, now, you’re anything but,” she whispered, her gaze straying from mine.
The moment had passed and I lowered her into the chair carefully, not letting go of her until the back of the chair brushed against my fingers.
“I suppose we should go see what the damage is out there, huh?” she asked and I motioned for her to lead the way. She rolled down the ramp and I bent over to pick up the toolbox I had left in the corner last night, but it was gone. “Hey, Cat, did you move the toolbox I left here last night?” I called to where she sat at the end of the ramp.
She shook her head and I looked around again, but it was missing. When I met her at the bottom of the ramp, she was definitely concerned. “Did someone steal it?” she asked, checking the grass on the other side in case it fell off.
“It appears so,” I said, after checking under the ramp with my flashlight. “I guess whoever took it needs it worse than I do.”
She grabbed my arm on the way by. “Maybe you should report it stolen. I don’t like the idea of someone walking up and taking something next to my house.”
“It was probably kids, Cat. Don’t worry about it. There was only a hammer and a couple screwdrivers in it, cheap ones, too. I only carry a small box in the BMW. My truck has all my expensive tools in lock boxes.”
She motioned toward the wood monstrosity in front of me. “Okay, if you’re sure. The question is, what do I need to do here?”
I took my notebook out of my back pocket and tucked my pencil behind my ear again. I showed her how the ramp rocked side to side, being careful so I didn’t break it up completely, but explained why it was happening.
“Are you saying I need a whole new ramp?” she asked and I nodded, giving her the ‘sorry to say’ palms.
“How long has this ramp been here? Was it here when you bought the place?”
“It was the reason I bought it, or rather paid the back taxes and moved in. My aunt lived here before me. She didn’t have a will and I’m the last of our family, so they finally told me I could take it if I paid the back taxes. The ramp was here when my mother died. My aunt was her sister. Anyway, I would say its seven or eight years old.”
I nodded my head. “Ah and there’s the answer. Whoever built this didn’t intend it to be used for years. The structure is weak and the wood isn’t pressure treated. Sitting out in the baking California sun all these years has slowly rotted the wood. You’re lucky you haven’t had problems before now.”
“Do you think it’s safe to keep using it?” she asked, a tremor of fear in her voice.
“I don’t, not the way it is now, but it isn’t like you can just use the backdoor,” I said, hooking a finger behind me.
She snorted knowing I was kidding, and I grinned. “It would be a long way down, but still might be safer than this thing.”
“Definitely not safer, but I can fix this one and shore it up to last a few more months. I’ll cut some four by fours and block them under the ramp every six inches. I’ll brace them on a concrete block instead of the dirt under the beams. Those should make it sturdy enough for you to use while we plan out a new one.”
“Plan out a new one?” she asked, her voice scared. “Sounds like a big job.”
“Not for a tradesman with skill, sweetheart,” I said, sitting on the back stairs in the shade with her. “I’m not entirely sure why it was built in the front to start with. It’s too steep and should have a landing in the middle and a second ramp to the door, but I suppose she never used the ramp by herself?”
She shook her head. “No, she was on oxygen and in a wheelchair. She always had someone helping her, so this did the trick, for her.”
“But not for you, so we’re going to build a ramp that works for you.”
“We? I’m afraid I’m not much good at wielding a hammer.”
I laughed and patted her knee. “Good thing you’ve got me,” I said, winking. “How would you feel about the ramp being at the back door?”
She glanced at the set of three stairs where I sat and then to the edge of the driveway. “I always thought it made more sense for someone like me to have it at the back door. I could roll right up it from the driveway, rather than rolling through grass, which you can see is now dirt, to get to the ramp. The dirt is the reason I have the long runner across my carpet. My chair is always dragging wet mud in.”
“I wondered why it was built there, too, but now that I’ve inspected it I understand. It was done on the fly and inexpensively, meant to last only a few months. Thinking about it, If I build it back here, I don’t need such a steep grade either.” I took out my pad and showed her what I had roughly sketched out earlier. “With the concrete pad already here, it makes the whole job easier.”
