“Come on over, and I’ll show you what you need to do.” He pats the floor beside him, and I drop down and cross my legs.
He rests one knee on the pad and opens the container, explains how to fill the hole, and lets me try a few times, giving me pointers and explaining that we’ll give it a light sand after it’s dry, followed by a finish coat of paint.
He nails the final baseboards and starts filling holes on the other end of the wall. Now that he’s no longer using a nail gun, I don’t have to shout to ask him questions.
“How did you get into this?” I ask.
“Construction?”
“Mmm, and working with the Stitches.”
“I always had jobs working with my hands growing up. I’m not big on sitting behind a desk.” He shifts his knee pad over and moves a couple of feet in my direction.
“Did you go to school for it? Is that how you knew it was what you wanted to do?” I’m fishing for information. Trying to fill in the missing pieces from what I’ve learned this morning.
“I went to college, but not for this.”
“Oh? What did you go for? Did you realize it wasn’t for you?” I ask, thinking I’m going to find out why he dropped out in his final semester.
“I got in over my head. What about you? Did you go to college?”
I’m not surprised he’s deflecting and decide not to push, since this is the first time we’ve had a conversation where he hasn’t seemed put out by the fact that he has to talk to me. “Yup. Sure did. I took business administration and public relations.”
“You have two degrees?” He seems mildly surprised by this.
“I double majored.”
“Seems like a lot of work.”
“I have insomnia, so I don’t sleep much. It kept me occupied instead of staring at the ceiling all night, wishing my brain would shut off.” That and I couldn’t decide which degree would be the better option, so I did both at the same time.
He looks my way, and for a few seconds his expression is pensive. “So why are you here working all these odd jobs at random places?”
“The abridged version is that I didn’t like my job and I wanted a fresh start, and to figure out what I want to do with the rest of my life.”
“Seems a bit like an existential crisis. What’s the unabridged version of that story?”
“You don’t want to hear it. That’s what therapists get paid for.” I haven’t been to see one since I was a little girl. My dad took me a few times after Mom died, but I didn’t like it, and he didn’t want to force me to go.
“I’ll listen to your woes for muffins,” Aaron offers with a grin.
I chuckle and shuffle across the floor. I’m close enough to Aaron that I can smell his deodorant and the faint salty scent of sweat. His jaw is covered in a dusting of scruff, as if he couldn’t be bothered to shave over the last couple of days.
“I don’t know that muffins would be adequate payment.”
“Why not? You seem like you’ve got it pretty together. What made you decide to leave the city and live here?”
“My dad’s girlfriend moved in with him last week, and until Sunday, I lived with him.”
He stops filling holes to look at me. “You two don’t get along, you and this girlfriend?”
“It’s not that. She’s nice, and I think she’s great for my dad. He’s been alone for a long time, ever since my mom died. I can’t even remember him trying to date or get over her. I don’t know how much you know about my family or our situation, but he spent a lot of years burying his grief and putting our family in a lot of debt.”
He shifts his knee pad over so he’s only a few feet away. “Yeah, Van talked about that a little. Your younger brother is in jail for fraud.”
“He tried to frame Van. It was awful. And I’m not justifying what he did, but I think a lot of it stems from not having stable, active, involved parents around growing up. At least I hope that’s it and he’s not some narcissistic douche hole who will never be a better person.”
“That had to be hard on your family,” Aaron says quietly.
“It was. But it was also the wake-up call my dad needed. I think he finally recognized he wasn’t even present in his life. That he was just . . . existing. Van helped him consolidate his debt, and we moved into a house he could afford. I couldn’t see what a pampered brat I was until we had to sell pretty much everything and start over. And I didn’t want to leave my dad on his own, not after what happened with Bradley and with all the changes, so I moved with him rather than get my own place.”
Aaron flips his ball cap around so the brim is backward. “That seems like a pretty selfless thing to do.”
“I don’t know if I would consider it selfless. I did it as much for myself as I did for him. It gave me a sense of purpose, a reason to hold on to something familiar in a sea of change.”
“You still put him before yourself. That’s a selfless act.”
“I needed to be needed, at least by someone.” I wave the metal spatula around, not sure if I should be embarrassed that I’m sharing my sob story with a man I find hopelessly attractive, who might only be listening to me ramble because he likes my muffins. Still, I keep talking. “Anyway, while all that was happening, my dad went for grief counseling and met Danielle, his girlfriend. He absolutely deserves to be happy, and that’s what she makes him. But last week when she moved in, I saw that everything I’ve been doing—working for the same company as my dad, as his assistant, living in the house with him—none of it was for me. I don’t even know what I like, or what I’m good at, or if there are things I’d like to be good at that I’m not.”
“You’re good at a lot of things as far as I can tell.” Aaron motions to the loft.
“I’m good at talking, that’s for sure.” Filling people’s ears with my nonsense is one thing I excel at. “Anyway, I need to figure out what I want because I honestly have no idea, so here I am.”
I force a bright smile and look up.
I don’t expect Aaron to be right beside me, his storm cloud eyes fixed on me. And for once he’s not looking at me with annoyance or pity.
“That’s my story.” I focus on filling holes again.
“It’s quite the story.”
“Everyone has one.”
“This is true.” He’s quiet for a moment before he continues. “And I mean it, Teagan: I think you’re probably good at more things than you know. You already know you can fill holes like a pro.”
I give him the side-eye and roll my eyes at his grin. “I’ve heard that’s your specialty.”
“Is that right? Already jumping on the small-town-gossip train?” He’s still smiling, but there’s an edge to his tone.
“You flirt with literally everyone,” I point out.
“That doesn’t mean I sleep with everyone.”
“Just the ladies whose lawns you mow?” I know I’ve taken it a step too far when his expression shutters.
“You don’t know shit about me, Teagan.”