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Aaron raises both hands in the air, a motion meant to be calming. “Everything’s fine. Mrs. Bowman wants to look at a few more options for the garage, and they’re wondering if they might be able to put an extra bedroom in the pool house. They’re putting in one of those swim-spa things, and those pool guys from the city are always slowing us down.”
“We need to find someone local who installs pools.”
Aaron nods. “There’s a couple in Lake Geneva, but they’re all booked up until next summer. Anyway, if you have the plans handy, it’d be great if we could take a look at them. I want to see what all I’ll need to be able to tie into the existing plumbing, and I think there’s a chance we’ll have to upgrade the septic with the additional bathrooms they’re planning to put in.”
“Will you need to visit the property again to assess that?”
“Definitely, but I figure it’s best if I go over the plans first and make sure everything is doable. You know what those architects are like. Sometimes the ideas are great but the execution isn’t actually possible.”
I spin around in my chair, open the filing cabinet holding all the current and upcoming jobs, and find the files he’s asking about.
“Do you want to do that on your own, or would it be better for me to hang around and make notes?”
“If you have time for that, it would definitely cut out a few steps later.” He nods to the stacks of paperwork on my desk. “But I understand if you’re busy.”
“I’m always busy, but in the interest of making less work for myself later, and you having to explain all this stuff to my dad, and then him having to explain it to me, and all of us having to explain it to the Bowmans, it sort of seems like it makes better sense for you and me to go over this stuff together?” I pose it as a question.
“Makes sense to me.”
“Great. Let’s do it, then. I’ll make a fresh pot of coffee.” I abandon the invoices I’m currently working on, grab my things, and follow Aaron to the break room so there’s enough space for us to spread out.
Half an hour later I have a purchase list, a revised potential cost list, hourly rate subtotals, and bullet points to go over with Mrs. Bowman. I fire off an email to her and ask if there’s a date and time that will work for her to get together to review the revisions. Her husband’s response to almost every email we’ve sent is “Whatever Lainey thinks is best.” It’s kind of cute.
“These mansion renovations should set us up for the entire winter.” Aaron leans back in his chair and sips his coffee.
“I think that’s what we’re all hoping. It’s why I’m spending so much time making sure everything is managed efficiently where they’re concerned, you know? We need great customer service so they tell all their friends about how awesome we are.”
He nods his agreement. “You think maybe you want to stay on past Christmas?”
I shrug. “Billy will probably be back by then.”
“Yeah, but he works on the projects, and these big ones mean either John or your dad needs to be on-site to help manage them. It’s not like the small stuff we do for the local businesses that take a couple of days, or a week, and don’t need extra supervision. And lately the projects have been more involved on my end. I’m not complaining, but it means we need all the manpower we can get.”
I focus on my coffee mug, tracing the design on the front. “Do you think Billy will be okay working on these bigger projects?”
Aaron lifts his ball cap and runs a hand through his hair before replacing it and bending the brim. “Hard to say. He can be a real asset or a real liability. Depends on what he’s been up to the night before.”
This is the stuff I’ve been trying to get out of my parents ever since I’ve been back here: I want to know what the situation is with Billy and whether the DUI charge was a random accident or something more. “How many days a week would you say he was an asset?”
Aaron is silent for a few moments, weighing his response. “Maybe half and half just before he had the accident. Before that it was most of the time, but I don’t know, Dee . . .” He looks around, not wanting to be caught gossiping. “He’s changed in the past year. Something is just . . . off, I guess? He was always into mischief, but it was basically harmless when we were kids. Now, not so much.” He takes another sip of his coffee. “I don’t want to throw him under the bus or anything, but recently, like say maybe the past six months, I haven’t been hanging out with him all that much.”
