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He looked over at his fireplace, then snapped a photo of it, and without really thinking, he sent it to Renzo.
Emil: Know where I can find a lumberjack to help?
Emil: Please know I’m kidding. Though if you do know a place where I can buy already chopped wood, that would be great.
Emil jumped half a foot when his phone rang, and he saw Renzo’s name on the screen. “Uh. I can also google,” he said when he answered. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your day.”
Renzo laughed. “I’m a professor, so I get all the good holiday time off. Did I ever tell you that?”
Emil frowned. He couldn’t remember, but saying no seemed like a safe bet. “I don’t think so. What do you teach?”
“Science,” Renzo said. “All that annoying nerdy shit. But you’re not interrupting. I was sitting here debating about whether I wanted ham or roast beef for lunch.”
“Why not both?”
“Because I don’t mix lunch meats, you heathen,” Renzo said with a sniff. A beat of silence passed, and then he said, “Are you alone?”
Emil looked through the terrace door and caught a glimpse of one of the men walking through with a small drill. “Delivery guys are here with some furniture.”
“Oh. Did you need help setting it up?”
Emil flushed. “I, uh…I paid for the setup. I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”
Renzo sighed, but he didn’t sound cruel. “Fair enough. I had to learn the hard way. My parents got all my dorm furniture from IKEA, and they handed me the little baggie of tools, wished me luck, then left.”
Emil sucked in air through his teeth. “How’d you survive it?”
“Weed,” Renzo said with a laugh. “Which I’ll only admit to because I’m at my sister’s place and not on campus, where my students might overhear. My roommate and I got really stoned, ordered Pizza Hut wings, and we worked until three in the morning.”
“I bet it felt worth it,” Emil said. He wished he had something like that. Just a single, solitary memory of happiness. Nothing complicated. Just a couple of joints and some cheap bedroom furniture.
“I didn’t appreciate it until later, but yeah. Anyway, if you really want some wood, you’re more than welcome to come steal more. I have to pick up Matty this afternoon, but I’ll be home for a while.”
Emil hesitated. It felt like a dangerous offer, mostly because he wanted to read more into it, and he had no rights. Not even after what they’d done together on the phone.
“You’re overthinking it, sunshine,” Renzo said. “It’s just wood.”
“Double entendre intended?”
“I’ll think about it,” Renzo said, and Emil somehow knew he was grinning. “Want to pop by?”
He should say no. Heneededto say no. “I think they’re almost done, so yeah. Need me to bring you anything?”
“Just your gorgeous face. You…do know that you don’t actually need to bring people things when you go see them, right?”
“That sounds like far too much logic for a Thursday afternoon,” Emil told him, finally smiling. He saw the delivery guys starting to pack up, and his heart sped up a few beats. “See you in twenty?”
“I’ll be waiting.”
That sounded like a promise, but before Emil could ask, the line went dead, and he was forced to slip his phone into his pocket before he did something like text him and ask and ruin the entire thing. Digging his wallet out of his pocket, he passed over a cash tip to the workers, then followed them out, locking his door behind him.
The place didn’t feel like home yet. It wasn’t some dream house that he’d fallen in love with at first sight. He’d just gotten tired of touring apartments, and it was the best listing Delilah had at her disposal.
It felt like he was coming up with a new life motto: everything is good enough, which was better than the miserable shit-show it had been before.
* * *
Emil had mostly pulled himself out of his melancholy as he headed up the driveway to Renzo’s. He deliberately kept his gaze off his mom’s house, which had been sitting untouched since he’d had the thing gutted, but he could feel its presence almost like a living thing.
