Page 8 of Load Bearing
Her gaze was critical as she finished the sweeping and went to greet him. He was dressed in jeans so new theywere still creased with folds and was probably regretting the short sleeves he was wearing. The Xtratufs were sensible.
“Anything missing this morning?” he asked with a growl that Trixie wondered if she should take personally.
“Nothing I caught on a quick inventory,” she said.
He looked around curiously. “It’s different.”
“Half a day of work with a good crew will do that,” Trixie said proudly. “We got some of the sheathing up on the first floor and finished sealing the basement. The second floor deck is down, and we started to take out some of the temporary cross-bracing. You and I are going to put up some interior walls down here.”
“By ourselves?” Hunter looked alarmed.
“It’s a good job for two people. These aren’t load-bearing, they’ll just divide up the space, and we’ll cover a lot of basic work principles doing it.”
“What is this building supposed to be?”
Trixie laughed. “A multi-million dollar family home. The guy just got the land in a divorce and is building it to spite his ex, as far as I can tell. He gave me the plans, I gave him a contract. It’s been one disaster after another, though. First, the lawyers delayed things. Then I couldn’t schedule the excavation until partway through the season. Concrete was slow because of the weather. I don’t know if we’ll get backfill before the ground freezes.”
Hunter frowned around, clearly trying to picture the final shape.
It didn’t look like much yet, so Trixie pointed things out. “That’s the front entrance, and there will be a two-story living room in this space. Kitchen, dining in this wing, exercise and entertainment in that. Second floor is all bedrooms and bathrooms, master in the middle. Porch off the back, sized for a hot tub. I’m surprised the architectdidn’t add a pool. It’sallthe bells and whistles. I’ve got employment paperwork for you to sign. I want everything aboveboard.”
Trixie inspected his ID (a Colorado driver’s license) and watched him sign her boilerplate contract with strong capable hands.
“Are you ready to get started?” Trixie felt unnaturally nervous and was mad at herself for being so weak. “You’ll need a hardhat and… do you have work gloves?”
“I didn’t think of gloves.”
Trixie was fascinated by Hunter’s face. He looked furious, presumably at himself, but she was beginning to realize that he just had resting fury face. He didn’t seem dumb behind his grumbly facade, and every so often, she got a hint of humor.
“I’ve got an extra pair in the truck,” Trixie said. “I buy them wholesale because someone’s always forgetting theirs.”
She kitted him out with gloves and a hardhat.
“Is this completely necessary?” he asked, clamping it onto his head. “We’re not working with big equipment.”
Trixie knocked on her own. “Safety first, big guy. Don’t care how hard-headed you are. Let’s get started.” Was it terrible of her to call him big guy? She was used to a certain amount of crude teasing on a jobsite, but that didn’t mean she had to cross a line. Hunter didn’t seem to take offense.
She picked a 2x4 up off the pile and laid it across the saw horses in front of the chop saw. “The first thing I’m going to teach you is how to measure.”
Hunter snorted. “I know how a measuring tape works.”
“I doubt it,” Trixie snorted right back at him. “People call this rough framing because they think they can get away with errors, but they add up fast. You forget aboutthe blade width and by the time you get across the building, you’re inches off. Check the end of the measuring tape, you know why that tab is loose?”
“It’s… broken?”
“The tab moves byexactlythe thickness of itself. Your zero point is either on the inside of the tab or on the outside, depending on whether you are in a blind corner or not.” Trixie gave the tape to Hunter. “Show me eight inches.”
She only heard her words after they were out of her mouth and flushed hot, hoping that Hunter didn’t notice. He carefully didn’t look at her, only at the tape, hooking it at the end of the board with his big hands, quickly realizing that he needed the gloves off for this part of the task. She handed him a carpenter’s pencil and he went to make a bold mark at the eight inch mark.
“Where on that line do I cut?” Trixie asked blandly.
Hunter blinked at her. “Um…”
“Which side will the blade be cutting on to preserve your measurement?”
Hunter pointed to the far side.
“How do you tell your work partner which side is live?”
