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Cora had started instant messaging him, too. Apparently, she and Taryn had gotten into a fight. She declared herself “Team Evan” whatever the hell that meant. He’d appreciated the support, but talking to Cora just made him think of Taryn.
He was tired of thinking about her. He wanted this awful ache in his gut to go away. He wanted to be able to sleep again. He needed a project to occupy himself.
Maybe he’d focus on the remodel. That had always been the plan, anyway. When the tenant left, he’d remodel and turn the upper floor into a huge living space.
He just hadn’t expected the tenant to absolutely gut him on the way out the door.
He shook off the dark thoughts and grabbed his laptop. Some quick research led to three contractors with high ratings in the area. He picked up the phone and dialed the first one.
Fifteen minutes later, he had an appointment set for Tuesday morning. He’d need to let him into the other space as well as his own. Should he just leave a note letting her know?
Grabbing a sheet of paper he jotted a quick note and decid
ed he would tape it on her door. That seemed official, right?
When he closed up shop for the day, he stopped by and taped the note to her door, then quickly went inside his apartment. There, he thought. It was done.
Deciding he needed to have a real meal instead of eating take out, he boiled some water for pasta. He’d nuked some frozen meatballs and opened a can of sauce. It wasn’t exactly gourmet, but it was better than pizza again.
As he strained the pasta, he heard a knock on the door. He called out, “Who is it?” even though he already knew it was her.
Her voice muffled by the door, he heard her say, “Taryn.”
He opened the door to find her, note in hand. Her eyes looked so sad that he felt a momentary pang in his chest. It was easy to shake it off, though, because whatever she was sad about, she had done it to herself.
“Yeah?” he asked.
She cleared her throat and asked, “The contractor. Will they be escorted? Your note didn’t say.”
“Yes. Sorry. I should have noted that. Is there anything else?”
“Well,” she said. “Did you have a minute to talk?”
“If it’s not about the apartment, then no. I don’t. Is there anything else?”
He watched as her eyes filled. She blinked for a second, then said, “No. I guess there isn’t.”
Watching her walk away, he acknowledged that he’d been an asshole. He didn’t particularly relish the idea of having a chat with her, but she’d clearly had something on her mind.
As he moved back into his apartment he said, “Whatever. Fuck it.”
He stared at the pasta in the strainer and forced himself to make a plate even though he wasn’t hungry anymore. He picked at it for another half hour or so before he gave up. He tossed it out and moved into the bathroom to take a shower.
Thirty minutes later, he had run the hot water heater down. The water now ran almost ice cold, so he forced himself out of the shower.
He heard the tail end of his cell phone ringing and moved to the living room to grab it.
Wrapped in a towel, he answered, “Hey Mom.”
“Hey Ev. How’s it goin’?” his mom asked.
“Same as it was yesterday when we talked,” he said.
He heard the smirk in her voice when she said, “Don’t sass me.”
“I’d never,” he said, feeling the beginnings of a smile on his face.
“Have you spoken to Taryn?” his mother asked with no segue at all.
