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“You did what? What the hell did you do that for?”

We reach the first model and Ron shoves open the door, stepping into what will be a foyer, eventually, after our crews get done with it. Right now it is just subfloor and studs. The electrical isn’t even in. It’s like a movie set, made to look nice on the outside but nothing inside.

“We should just tear these down and start over,” Ron mutters angrily.

“Now, that’s crazy. You don’t need to waste all this just because you’re mad. I’m surprised you did that, though. She really got to you?”

He shrugs and looks away, kicking a 2 x 4 with the toe of his running shoe.

“I’m not used to the competition. This is my region. This is my project. And now she’s… Well, how is she? How’s life as a happy couple?”

He turns to me, waggling his bushy eyebrows. I hold my hands up and shake my head.

“That’s… Complicated.”

“Oh no, not complicated,” Ron smirks.

I scowl at him, wishing I hadn’t said anything. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs and shuffles away, ducking underneath dangling bits of sheet metal.

“You just tend to like your ladies on the simple side, don’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I sniff, making a mental list of all the materials that are still in place. We can use most of the stuff. I think he’s overreacting.

“Sure you do,” he continues confidently. “You like them kind of dumb. Kind of unchallenging. That way you can make a quick getaway with no repercussions.”

“That’s not what I do,” I insist. “I’m just an easy-going guy. I’m nice. That’s what everybody tells me.”

He looks back over his shoulder with a sarcastic smirk on his face. “Oh yeah, you have good manners and everything. You’re just not, you know… the commitment type.”

“I am the commitment type! I just haven’t found anybody worth committing to, Ron,” I huff, irritated that I even have to have this conversation.

But he just waddles away, talking to himself about the project that he got himself into. He’s mad, but he will get over it.

And I’m sure he is wrong. I was going to ask Deborah to marry me, after all. And apparently, at some point in my life I thought Penny and I had a fighting chance. In the future. The future that happens to be now.

That I happen to have already screwed up.

Shit.

Chapter 16

Penny

Wanda picks up the phone on the second ring, grumpy as usual.

“Hey, did I get you at a bad time? I was just calling to get a status update.”

“Am I on speakerphone?” she snaps.

“Hands-free driving, per state law,” I remark, trying to keep it light. “I’m on my way back from Westbury. There’s some guys out there making countertops out of reclaimed barn wood. I think you’re gonna like it.”

“Yeah. We should be ready for countertops next week. Maybe. Yeah, I think that’s where we are.”

I smile to myself, knowing that if Wanda says next week, it will definitely be next week. She’s never missed a deadline, at least not in construction.

“Okay, anything else?” I continue gently, mindful that I don’t put too much pressure on the conversation. “All good with the crew?”

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