AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Was that so difficult?" Iasked.
"You love it when I argue with you," she replied. "Don't pretendotherwise."
I used to think I wanted her to acquiesce to me, but I was wrong. I wanted her to meet me, inch for inch, and I wanted her to push me. I pulled, she pushed, and we found each other in the middle. It wasn't always equal, and it didn't have to be that way. Sometimes I did more of the pulling and sometimes it was mostly Lauren pushing. But the exertion made us stronger. We always came back together, and that was all Ineeded.
"Idon't see it,"Lauren murmured, turning in a slow circle. She stared at the plywood boards over the floor, the bare studs, the crumbling fireplace. She shrugged, her lips turned down in a frown. "I want to see it. The neighborhood is nice and the yard is a good size, but…I don't seeit."
It hit me then, that we'd done this before. As I thought about that day, I realized everything had changed. My entire world was different now. My father was gone, and not even his home was part of our lives anymore. My siblings were married or halfway there. I had a niece and nephew, and another on the way. And Lauren…she wasn't the same fast-talking woman who tripped down those stairs at Saint Cosmas. She was my wife. The mother of my child. My best friend. She was so much more than the sexy schoolteacher I'd met all those yearsago.
"I know you see it," she continued, oblivious to the memories streaking through my mind. "You have the sight." She glanced at me, her hands burrowed deep in her coat pockets. This cold snap was fierce. "You like this one, don't you? It's your favorite of thethree."
The house was a wreck but it had good, salvageable bones. An investor—probably one of those people who watched home renovation shows and thought they could pull off the same trick with fifty dollars and a weekend—had torn everything out of this 1920s farmhouse. Tore it straight down to the studs. They had enough sense to preserve the hardwood floors and some of the period details, but left a shell of a house when they ran out of money. Or know-how.
I smiled at her, nodding. "Solid foundation," I started, stepping closer, "newer roof, goodsystems."
Lauren waved at the empty dining room. "But no walls," she argued. "I'm fairly certain I want walls. I don't know where they'd go, but I know I want them." She turned around, sighing as she moved. "I don't know. This is just…it's a lot,Matthew."
"It is a lot but I promise you'll have walls, Sweetness," I said, laughing. "And I'll make sure they're in the rightspots."
"How long will it take?" She glanced toward the living room and kitchen, both spaces dark and empty. "This looks time-intensive."
I made anot even closeface as I shook my head. "Have I ever steered you wrong with buildingprojects?"
"You've only steered me on one building project, Matthew," she replied. "That's not a representativesample."
"But that one came in on time and at budget," Isaid.
"And I'm forever grateful," she said. I pulled her close, or as close as layers of winter clothing would allow, and kissed her forehead. "If you think this is theone—"
"Ido."
Lauren nodded. "I understand that you need a project right now. Some place to deposit all this expectant father energy that you're currently using on supervising my showers and agonizing over the bananas at the farmers'market."
"Some bananas are better than others," I replied. "If that's all you're going to eat for breakfast, I want to get the best banana outthere."
She nodded again, as if she was taking my responses and filing them in the Totally Ridiculous But We Won't Mention That Right Now bin. "And that's why you need a project. This"—she waved her hand at the space and then pressed it to her abdomen—"feels right. For once in my life, I have no desire to plan everything or consider each possibility. If it's possible, I feel like I know what to do without thinking about it, and I want to hold onto thatfeeling."
"That's good because it feels right to me, too," Isaid.
Lauren laughed and dropped her head to my chest. "Let's do it," she said. "But you have to promise me one thing: you won't ask me to decide on every little thing for thishouse."
"But it's going to be our home and I want you to love it," Isputtered.
"But you restore houses every day and they're amazing. They sell for tens of millions of dollars. You know what the hell you're doing and I can't imagine where the walls go." She shot a side-eyed glance at the studs again. "Bring me in when it's time to choose paint colors and countertops, and prettythings."
She wasn't the same woman who tripped down the stairs at Saint Cosmas, and I wasn't the same man who caughther.
I pressed my forehead to hers. "This is it?" I whispered. "You'resure?"
"You think it's the one. That's all I need to know." She nodded, brushing her lips over mine. "Just think. This time next year," she started, "our tiny person will be experiencing his or her firstholidays."
That timeline hit me square in the chest. "Holy fuck, I need to get towork."
Chapter Eight
Will
It wasChristmas Eve and my house looked like an active warzone.
