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I started to smile, but then came the realization that this was truly going to happen, and my smile faltered.
I texted back, “Thank you.”
I slumped on my couch and stared at my closed TV, a weird buzzing sound in my ears. The first domino piece had fallen.
Still a bit dazed, I picked up my phone and called Jay. He answered immediately.
“What’s up?” I could hear the sound of heavy machinery in the background.
“Are you still at the garage?” I asked.
“Yep. I need the extra hours if I’m gonna move out of my brother’s house anytime soon.”
“Oh, cool.” I exhaled. “He said yes.”
“He… oh, man. That’s fucking fantastic!”
“Is it?”
“You bet your ass it is. I knew you’d pull through. Now you need to tell Anthony it’s on.”
“I have a feeling he’s going to freak out.”
“Oh, I bet he will. That’s why you’ll be doing the talking. You know I have a short fuse for drama.”
“It’s called being an ass,” I said.
“Potato, potahto. Just make sure he’s fully on board.”
“When are you planning on joining us at the cabin?”
“Once you let me know you guys are there, I’ll drive over. It should take me about an hour and a half.”
“Then what?”
“Then we’re gonna play some friendly poker, and you’re going to be on my team.”
“There aren’t teams in poker.”
He chuckled. “This time, there will be.”
8
I decided that updating Anthony by phone might make it easier for him to back off. And yes, I was sure he would try to back off now that enough time had passed for logic to take over. It was odd that I was the one advocating for a plan I wasn’t fully on board with, yet knowing Jay was counting on me made me slip into the shoes I wasn’t comfortable walking in.
In one of my latest calls with Anthony, he mentioned where he was currently working, although he hadn’t said the exact address. I drove to the street he’d mentioned and looked for a house that seemed to be going through renovations. It was a nice neighborhood in Queens with similar-looking old private houses. I found Anthony’s truck parked in front of one of the houses. The horrible logo of “Anthony’s Renovations” seemed faded on the passenger’s door.
I parked and grabbed the tacos I brought for us. It was my day off, so I could walk around with one of my signature flannel shirts instead of my dull uniform. The sound of a hammer hitting wood came from around the house. Since it was relatively late, I suspected Anthony’s usual workforce had gone home and he was left behind to finish things up. He had a strict policy of arriving first and leaving last.
I entered the backyard where Anthony was working with his back to me, his white shirt too dirty for any washing machine to ever save. He was working on a gazebo that seemed close to complete, a beautiful wooden structure with fine details. I watched him working in silence, enjoying how embedded he was in his work, and how committed he was to creating something sturdy yet beautiful.
“Nice work.”
He jolted and looked around, holding the hammer like he was about to attack. “Ethan, dammit, you scared me. What… what are you doing here?” He put the hammer on the ground and wiped his palms on his stained jeans.
I raised the taco bag. “I come bringing food.”
“How’d you know I was here?”
