Page 15 of Beautiful Crazy
“Do you know when the roof was last replaced?”
“I don’t.” Shaking my head, I say, “My grandma recently passed away, and she left me the house, but I don’tknow much about it, and I can’t find any documentation that she may have kept here.”
“Not a problem.” Conway waves me off. “We can find out that information down at the county. What else were you thinking?”
Diving into the small list of things I’m thinking of tweaking around here, Conway listens intently, taking notes as I go. Once I’m finished, he tucks his notepad away inside the breast pocket of his shirt.
“I’ll go ahead and get started on a quote for you. Once I have it completed, I’ll send it over via email, and we can discuss any questions or concerns you may have. Sound good?”
“Yeah, that’s great. Thanks, man. You were highly recommended to me, and being new to town, it can be overwhelming trying to figure everything out.”
“Where are you originally from?”
“Seattle.”
“Wow, that’s a big change.” He chuckles, the sound deep and rumbly. “Have you been able to meet anybody in town yet?”
“I’ve met a few people. My neighbor is nice.” Just the thought of Gemma has a smile pulling on my lips. “I’ve run into her a couple times since moving here.”
“Gemma?” he asks.
“Yeah, you know her?”
He nods. “I’ve known her family for many years. Her sister, Grace, dated my son back in high school.”
“I met Grace last night, actually. It’s so funny how everybody seems to know everyone here.”
“You’re the new teacher at the elementary school, right?” he asks, a thick, dark brow arched.
“I am! How’d you know that?” I ask with a chuckle.
“Small town, remember.” He grins. “But also, I saw you at the school last night during Meet the Teacher.”
“Got it. Do you have a grandchild that goes there?”
Chuckling, he rubs a hand across the back of his neck. “A daughter, actually. She’s going into fourth grade this year.”
“An adult son and a fourth grader. You took quite a break between the two, huh?”
We both chuckle before his phone chimes. Pulling it out of his pocket to check it, he says, “Yeah, my daughter was a honeymoon oopsie.” Stuffing his phone back in his pocket, he stands. “Listen, I gotta run. That’s something I have to attend to, but like I said, I’ll get that estimate over to you. If not tonight, then first thing in the morning. Look it over and let me know if you have any questions. But also, I’m heading out for a couple drinks Friday night with some buddies if you want to come? I’m sure being new in town and not knowing anybody can be hard.”
My brows shoot up at his offer. “Oh, wow. Sure, that would be awesome. Thank you.”
“No problem. I’ll text you the details once we hammer out a place. Same number you called me from?”
“Yup, that works.”
After Conway leaves, I quickly fill up the food dish on my front porch and refill the water bowl. The little black fur ball seems to have taken a liking to my house, and since I’m not sure if he has a home, I bought some kitty food just to be safe. Maybe I should name him.
Once I’m done with that, I busy myself going through all the shit in the spare bedroom that my grandma left behind. It’s mostly a bunch of junk that I don’t need or clothing I can donate, but in the top of the closet, I find a box that is full of family photos. Pictures I’ve never even seen. I spend the next little while going through them, smiling to myself at the memories they bring back.
Family trips, holidays, birthdays. In all of them, I’m so little. I’m surprised she’s kept these all this time.
I find one of my father and me. Seeing it makes my chest ache. I can’t be any older than six, and I’m helping him decorate his office for Christmas. Of course, we’re at his office. I swear, he was there more than he was home my entire childhood, and even now, at almost sixty, he’s still there every single day.
The ache in my chest grows the longer I look at the picture, and suddenly, I have the urge to call him. We haven’t spoken since before I made the decision to move here. To say he wasn’t thrilled with my decision would be an understatement. Although, he’s never been very fond of my life choices. Despite knowing that this call will most likely not go in my favor, I find myself pulling out my phone and dialing his number anyway. Placing the call on speaker so I can continue sorting through these pictures, I wait as it rings a few times before it connects.
“Son,” he mutters dryly into the phone. Nothing else. A man of many words.