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I still can’t breathe in the dining room, where the majority of my tools and supplies are. I decide to do a quick inventory check to make sure I have everything I need. I check things off on a list I carry in my hands. I make a note, buy paint, and walk outside to my car.
I pull my keys out of my pocket and drive off. At least the hardware store isn't too far away. I'm disappointed in myself as I drive. How could I not realize sooner that I was out of paint? This is what I mean about falling behind. If I don't start paying attention, I'll never get this house on the market.
It’s summer, which means I don't have very long. If I don't stop messing around, I will miss out on the profit that this house can generate once complete. But some things in life are easier said than done.
Sitting at the red light on one of the main streets, I glance out the windows and have to look again. I see Mia's car turning onto one of the side streets leading back to the old house. I blink, and the car is gone, but I sit there staring. The light changes, but I don't notice. Somebody honks behind me. I snap back to reality and continue driving to the store.
“You're just seeing things. The mind is infamous at playing tricks on people,” I say, trying to convince myself.
I arrive at the hardware store. “No more distractions. You have a job to do,” I remind myself firmly as I get out of the car. Walking inside the store and grabbing a cart, I'm determined to be focused, so I head straight for the paint aisle and start browsing through the selection. I throw in a couple of new brushes and rollers, plus a few trays. Of course, it can't hurt to be well-stocked and prepared.
I look at each can, trying to decide the various colors for the walls, the cabinets, the trim, and exteriors, and such.
My phone rings loudly. I answer it one-handed while trying to read a label on a paint can.
“Is this Mr. Isaac Ryan?” a voice asks.
“Yes, may I ask who is calling?” I reply.
“The police. We are phoning in regards to a house you are said to be working on,” the man explains over the phone.
“Okay, what seems to be the trouble?” I ask as I put the can of paint back.
“Your home is on fire. We need you here right away,” the officer says and disconnects.
I stand there in shock, thinking it's not possible.
“Mia!” I gasp suddenly and run out of the store. I fumble for my keys. My hands tremble as I unlock the door, so I can get in and speed away.
I have to get there and make sure. Please don't let that be her that I saw earlier. If it was, please let her be ok. Mia’s safety is my only concern as I speed the whole way over to her old home.
Pulling up down the street, I jump out of the car. The fire department is already here putting out the fire.
“What's going on? What happened?” I ask as I approach. “I own this house.”
One of the firefighters stops me. “We don't know yet. Right now, we need to put out the flames first. Thankfully, no one was inside. Just wait here, sir. We'll be with you in a minute.”
It takes me a bit to register his words, but I take a quick breath of relief. So that means Mia is safe.
Turning away from the house, I stare at the ground. I pull out my phone and instantly find her number. I stare at it. I can't keep doing this. My feelings for Mia are never going to go away, nor do I want them to. My worry for her today proved that. I need her in my life, and I want her. I push call and put the phone to my ear. For the first time, I am terrified of rejection. Is she going to answer?
After the first ring, I hear, “Hello? Isaac?” Mia’s voice sounds hesitant and uncertain. I honestly wasn't expecting her to answer. I'm silent for a second as I collect my thoughts. “Hello?” she asks again.
“Yes, Mia, it's me. Don't hang up,” I say hurriedly. She waits in silence on the phone. “Listen, is there a way we can talk or something?” I ask. I'm greeted with more silence from her. “Please, Mia. It's vital. I really need to see you. Can you meet me at my rental house?” I plead simply with her.
“Okay. Just give me a few minutes to get over there,” she replies before hanging up. Her response wasn't exactly friendly, but it's a start. Not wanting to waste a second, I jump into my car and speed away, letting the firemen handle the old house. My heart hammers loudly in my chest throughout the whole drive. Finally, we both arrive simultaneously and pull up side by side, but I'm the first one out of my car.
