get, the more money you get. You remember how that works. Lord knows I could use the boost after all the money Margie spent on presents this year.”
“Sorry, Tim. That’s great news.”
“I was hoping you’d say that, because it’s just going to be you and me this time. I can’t get anyone else out on short notice. The rest of the guys are going away for Christmas. I know you don’t have any place to go, so I’m going to make it worth your while.”
“Gee, thanks. Glad my ruined family could be a help to you during the holidays. How big is this house?”
“Pretty big, I think. Look, kid, we can do it. Besides, you said you needed the money. Now, quit whining and get back to work, we have to finish this place up today.”
“Oh, Tim. I do love your Christmas spirit.”
* * *
As Tim turned the truck up the snow-lined road to Waldorf Hills, I held my breath. We didn’t get that much work up here, and I was glad. I hated working for stuck-up rich people. They were the ones who would stay home all day to watch you just to make sure you didn’t steal anything or forget to put down a coaster. It reminded me of all the things I hated about my childhood, all the things I tried to forget. Waldorf Hills was out of our usual territory, but Tim did say the house was big. And the only kind of house up in Waldorf Hills was the big kind. We passed giant house after giant house, winding around until we came to a wooded driveway.
“God, where the hell is this place?”
I looked down at the directions between us and made sure we were in the right place. The sign at the end of the driveway said 625. This was it. Tim pulled into the narrow entrance, muttering under his breath. After winding around for another few minutes, the trees finally cleared. A perfect Craftsman house came into view. There was a detached garage with a tarp-covered boat parked next to it. I swallowed, wondering what Tim had gotten us into. The house was large, but not nearly as large as most in the neighborhood. It still would be a lot of work. Tim brought the truck to a stop and reluctantly got out. Christmas lights adorned the giant cedar trees in front; a big evergreen wreath hung on the door. It looked like the cover of a Christmas card with the snow framing everything in pristine white.
“Now, let me do the talking, kid. This guy doesn’t want to hear any of your nonsense. And by the way, if you do anything to fuck this up, you’re fired. I can’t afford to lose this guy’s business. And don’t think I won’t do it because it’s almost Christmas.”
I didn’t need to answer; I knew what he meant. I’d watched Tim fire people before. It wasn’t pretty. For my own sake, I would just keep my head down and paint. This job was the only thing I had going, God help me. It being Christmas was the last of my worries. I had barely registered the holidays. It’s not like I had a lot to celebrate the past few years anyway.
“Get the supplies, and remember, keep that smart mouth shut.”
While I dug in the back of the truck for the rollers and tarps, I heard the front door open and slam shut. For a moment, I was frozen. The guy walking toward Tim couldn’t have been more than ten years older than me. I was expecting some old money guy living it up in his retirement. Instead this guy was what I probably would have turned into, had my father not been a degenerate gambler. More important than his age, he was cute. I was busy staring at his legs in his khaki shorts when Tim’s voice ruined the moment. It seemed odd to me that the guy would wear shorts in the winter, but I certainly appreciated it.
“Hi. You must be Mr. Jordan. I’m Tim. We spoke on the phone.”
“It’s Gary, please. Come on in. I’ll show you what needs to be done.”
Before I could stop myself, I was disobeying Tim’s orders.
“Great house. I love Craftsman. ”
Tim and Gary both turned and looked at me. Tim looked ready to blow but held it in.
“Thanks.
“Sorry, Tim. That’s great news.”
“I was hoping you’d say that, because it’s just going to be you and me this time. I can’t get anyone else out on short notice. The rest of the guys are going away for Christmas. I know you don’t have any place to go, so I’m going to make it worth your while.”
“Gee, thanks. Glad my ruined family could be a help to you during the holidays. How big is this house?”
“Pretty big, I think. Look, kid, we can do it. Besides, you said you needed the money. Now, quit whining and get back to work, we have to finish this place up today.”
“Oh, Tim. I do love your Christmas spirit.”
* * *
As Tim turned the truck up the snow-lined road to Waldorf Hills, I held my breath. We didn’t get that much work up here, and I was glad. I hated working for stuck-up rich people. They were the ones who would stay home all day to watch you just to make sure you didn’t steal anything or forget to put down a coaster. It reminded me of all the things I hated about my childhood, all the things I tried to forget. Waldorf Hills was out of our usual territory, but Tim did say the house was big. And the only kind of house up in Waldorf Hills was the big kind. We passed giant house after giant house, winding around until we came to a wooded driveway.
“God, where the hell is this place?”
I looked down at the directions between us and made sure we were in the right place. The sign at the end of the driveway said 625. This was it. Tim pulled into the narrow entrance, muttering under his breath. After winding around for another few minutes, the trees finally cleared. A perfect Craftsman house came into view. There was a detached garage with a tarp-covered boat parked next to it. I swallowed, wondering what Tim had gotten us into. The house was large, but not nearly as large as most in the neighborhood. It still would be a lot of work. Tim brought the truck to a stop and reluctantly got out. Christmas lights adorned the giant cedar trees in front; a big evergreen wreath hung on the door. It looked like the cover of a Christmas card with the snow framing everything in pristine white.
“Now, let me do the talking, kid. This guy doesn’t want to hear any of your nonsense. And by the way, if you do anything to fuck this up, you’re fired. I can’t afford to lose this guy’s business. And don’t think I won’t do it because it’s almost Christmas.”
I didn’t need to answer; I knew what he meant. I’d watched Tim fire people before. It wasn’t pretty. For my own sake, I would just keep my head down and paint. This job was the only thing I had going, God help me. It being Christmas was the last of my worries. I had barely registered the holidays. It’s not like I had a lot to celebrate the past few years anyway.
“Get the supplies, and remember, keep that smart mouth shut.”
While I dug in the back of the truck for the rollers and tarps, I heard the front door open and slam shut. For a moment, I was frozen. The guy walking toward Tim couldn’t have been more than ten years older than me. I was expecting some old money guy living it up in his retirement. Instead this guy was what I probably would have turned into, had my father not been a degenerate gambler. More important than his age, he was cute. I was busy staring at his legs in his khaki shorts when Tim’s voice ruined the moment. It seemed odd to me that the guy would wear shorts in the winter, but I certainly appreciated it.
“Hi. You must be Mr. Jordan. I’m Tim. We spoke on the phone.”
“It’s Gary, please. Come on in. I’ll show you what needs to be done.”
Before I could stop myself, I was disobeying Tim’s orders.
“Great house. I love Craftsman. ”
Tim and Gary both turned and looked at me. Tim looked ready to blow but held it in.
“Thanks.
Similar Books
