Page 124 of Our Long Days
Our list
• Visit Harvest Homestead ?
• Arrange followup appointment with ENT ?
• Kiss the pretty blonde ?
• Have one last driving lesson with the lumberjack ?
• Visit site for new project
“You best get usedto life as a passenger princess,” I tease and glance at Dex to my right.
He snorts. “No idea what that is, but sure. I’ve wrangled myself into a princess dress enough times for Lottie to not let it taint my masculinity.”
“Oh, I’ve seen the pictures.” I waggle my eyebrows.
My driving test is in a few days, and as much as I love our lessons, I’m excited for this extra splash of independence.
It’s late morning, and after Dex puttered around in the workshop for a few hours, we headed over to the location of theteam’s next project. It’s on the other side of town, closer to the bay and the neighborhood we grew up in.
“Turn left here,” Dex instructs from the passenger seat, pointing at the narrow dirt path hidden behind tall pines.
I steer the truck, arms shaking with the vibrations. The trickle of running water sounds through the open window, and our arrival has a mother and baby moose scampering into the thick vegetation.
“Wow. You’d never know this was here.” I marvel at the wide open space revealed at the end of the path. A few tree stumps remain, but otherwise, it’s clear and flat, dotted with patches of grass chasing the sunshine through the trees. What’s really breathtaking is the sparkling lake in the foreground and small dock leading to the water. “What’s the acreage?”
“Four point five.” He pats my knee. “Park up here and grab those plans for me. I want to run through the dimensions a final time.”
“Got it.” I reach into the backseat, grab the roll of papers, and join Dex.
Hands resting on his hips, he scans the area, picturing the finished product.
“Vacation home?” I ask and unroll the blueprints.
“Nah. Family home. Four, maybe five bedrooms. Two and a half bath.”
“Are they local to the area?”
“Yeah. They’re local.” There’s an evasive edge to his tone, but it’s forgotten when he links our hands. He talks me through the layout, and slowly, I imagine it.
Open concept. Two stories. A balcony leading from the main bedroom. A mix of pine and cedar timber. Stone chimney.
He draws an invisible circle with his fingers. “This is where the back porch would be. What do you think about a wrap-around?”
“Which way’s west?”
He points behind us.
“It’ll look pretty with the sunset and overlooking the water. Nice spot to relax after a hard day.”
“Agreed. Good eye.” He kisses my temple. “Could you snap some pictures?”
I throw him a salute, tuck the plans under my arm, and pull out my phone. Dex disappears to the truck, and I hear the tarp rustle. I’m aiming the camera when a bulky frame blocks the shot. Hooked through each arm are two wooden Adirondack chairs, his muscles straining with the weight.
“What are you doing?” I laugh.
He carefully lowers them with a grunt and dusts off his jeans. “Setting the scene. Come sit. I need your help to visualize it. The customer is very particular.”
