“You’re good,” I said to Duncan, who let go of the wood. “The rest of this I can cut myself.”
“I figured,” Duncan said. “Is this for the back wall or for the freezer?”
“The freezer,” I sighed. “It’s not as deep as they wanted it, and it’s in a different spot in the kitchen, but I built them the bones for the damn freezer into the blueprint.”
“I saw that,” Duncan said. “You have a crew set up to get it ready?”
“Electrician is on standby,” I said. “Will, you remember him?”
“Yeah, the fella that did the old Mason lodge we worked on last year?”
“That’s the one,” I said. “I’m having him come in to make sure everything is up to code and wire the kitchen, then it’s the HVAC guys, then the freezer crew that actually build the inside of those things.”
“So much work,” Duncan said, shaking his head. “Bound to be expensive as hell.”
“It is,” I said. “But it’s apparently completely necessary for proper function of the kitchen.”
“Did Derek say that, or Ally?” Duncan asked.
I didn’t respond.
Ally had pissed me off a fair amount recently. She was very pushy about her point of view and didn’t back down from my bluster all that easily. It rankled. Her stake in this was a job, and that was it. For us, it was our grandparents’ legacy and our livelihood being tied up in this vineyard. I had already skipped a couple other projects my crew could have done and finished and probably made more money than for this one.
A couple of my regulars had called me up to tell me they were going to work for someone else for a while. I couldn’t blame them. They were independent, and the job at the vineyard seemed more trouble than it was worth for the pay. I understood that. It still sucked not to have some of my more experienced and dependable guys on the job.
Thankfully, Duncan had stepped up. A lot of the normal day-to-day running of things I had delegated to him, including hiring day laborers for when we were short someone or needed a few extra hands for a day or two.
I was quite pleased overall with the work the crew had done under my direction, moving us ahead of the plan and making extremely solid progress in very little time. We were just a little bit away from done with the kitchen, and I had dispatched a smaller crew, already setting up in the tasting room. That was going to be its own challenge, but thankfully, Derek didn’t seem to have as many ideas about how that was going to be put together. I was pleased enough that I was rather surprised when I looked up and saw Derek leaned against the doorframe looking angry. He cleared his throat.
“Noah, I need to speak to you,” he said curtly. Not “can we speak” or “a moment of your time.” Just “I need to speak to you,” like he was the boss or something. Grumpily, I shut off the saw and nodded to Duncan, who rolled his eyes. I had no idea what my younger brother could be upset about. With the work as ahead as it was, I would have assumed he would be over-the-moon happy.
Derek disappeared into the kitchen, and I followed him inside. It was empty, probably for the first time since I had gotten there that morning. I pulled off my safety glasses and my hard hat and put them down on a table, crossing over to where Duncan had sat a new box of coffee. I had come to really like the stuff, and I filled the paper cup beside it with some of the dark, black brew.
I sipped my cup, waiting for Derek to speak first. Clearly, he didn’t want to, and whatever was bugging him was something he expected me to know about already. I was in no rush to be lectured again, so I kept quiet.
One look at Derek tapping his foot in frustration, his arms crossed over his chest, told me that my tactics weren’t going to work. I sat down heavily in the chair by the table and took a deep sip of my coffee. Finally, when I felt like he might explode if I didn’t speak, I broke the silence.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“What’s up?” Derek repeated angrily. “What’s up is you. One more week and she’s here full-time, Noah. One week. Are you going to get your head out of your ass by then?”
I shook my head “What the hell are you going on about?”
“Are you serious?” Derek asked, almost exploding. “Have you not listened to a word we’ve said?”
I shrugged. “I tend to tune you out when you get all whiny.”
“I really don’t have time for the sarcasm, Noah.”
“I really don’t have time for the games, Derek,” I responded. “I’m out there working my ass off to implement what changes I can make and bend over backwards to get this kitchen done, and all I hear from you is bitching. Now what the fuck are you talking about?”