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Sawyer went to the hardware store, bought what was needed and drove home.
“What did you buy?” his grandfather asked when he was bringing the bathroom vanity in. It had a sink and counter already put together. A floor model that was on sale and he liked the looks of it. More so because it was one less step to put together and have him cursing and swearing.
“What does it look like?”
“Looks like your grandmother put you up to something that I fixed.”
“Making it so tight that she can’t turn it on isn’t fixing it,” he said.
He left the vanity in the hall and went back to his SUV and got the faucet and everything else he’d bought. There were some windows with drafts that he was going to try to fix or at least seal if he could. If not, he’d put some film on them for the cooler months and then see what he could do about what it’d cost to have the windows replaced.
His grandfather didn’t say another word after that and left him alone to do what he could.
He could hear them arguing while he was hammering away and pulling out the other vanity. This one was the same size and should just fit where the last one was.
Two hours later, he was finally done. He’d made a mess of the walls though and had to repair that. He’d planned ahead and got putty for it and would sand it later, then repaint the whole bathroom.
His grandmother would love it after just wanting the leaky faucet fixed.
Dinner was being cooked, the house smelled good. “What are you making?” he asked.
“Meatloaf and mashed potatoes.”
“Yum,” he said. He only ever got that here.
“I guess that is one good thing about this visit,” his grandfather said. “She never makes that for me anymore.”
“Don’t be an ass, Curt,” his grandmother said. “You don’t need it with your health right now, but one day won’t make a big difference. Try to be a little nicer with Sawyer here if you can.”
His grandfather turned and went back to the living room. He couldn’t stay here like this. It was too much like watching his parents fight as a kid.
As an adult, he could try to fix it though. He knew his grandparents loved each other.
He got a beer out of the fridge. “He can have this, right?”
“He shouldn’t, but I won’t tell him no.”
“I’m going to talk to him now. It’s going to be fine, Grandma.”
“I know it will be,” his grandmother said. “It always is in the end.”
“But the middle is the hardest part. I know that.”
She’d said that to him enough in his life.
He moved to the living room with the can of beer and put it next to his grandfather. “Thanks,” his grandfather said.
“She is only worried about you,” he said.
“I know. But she doesn’t need to be.”
“You’re acting this way so she thinks you’re fine. The grouchier you are, the more she’ll just think it’s in her head, right?”
“I guess you didn’t become a detective on your looks,” his grandfather said.
“No,” he said, taking a drink of his beer. “I’m here and I’m going to go on Monday. I want you to keep me in the loop and involved. Do you hear me?”
“You don’t need this burden.”
