“Gage does this, too? Because this has been all day. By the time I’m done fighting with Arik, whatever task they came to do has been done,” Kellus explained, reclaiming the sack Trent had taken from him earlier as Trent used the light on his phone to see inside the toolbox.
“Oh yeah. Gage’s always going around me. I’ve just learned to quietly but firmly put my foot down. I also pick my battles so he knows I’m not playing.” Trent pulled out his tool belt, and placed his phone on the edge of the truck while he buckled the heavy belt around his hips.
“How much do you charge?” Kellus asked as Trent placed the phone in his back pocket and pulled a ladder from his truck bed. Trent busted out with a laugh and his grip tightened when the ladder slipped.
“You’ve got a lot to learn to be in this family. I’m head of Layne’s electrical department, and honestly, in the beginning, I was afraid they were gonna ask me to do it for free. I was so relieved when my first paycheck came because we never talked money. I was just sent where they needed me. The family’s real tight. They act like they aren’t, but every single one of them stays all up in each other’s business. It’s taken some getting used to.”
Trent hoisted the ladder under his arm and started for the front door. Slowly Kellus trailed behind. He could hear Arik and Gage in the house, trading insults. The front door was open, no one really caring that the heater was running. Those little things were glaring reminders of his and Arik’s differences. When Trent went through the front door, he turned back and gave him a wink as if he got exactly what Kellus had been thinking.
Two and a half hours later, Trent had hung both ceiling fans, replaced the kitchen and hall fixtures, added the towel racks back to the bathrooms walls, and had run lines for four safety lights in his backyard. Trent didn’t play. He was there to work and made sure he got his stuff done. He also showed the tight control he had on Gage, using him as his helper in every single installation, keeping him busy and away from Arik.
“I’ll have someone out here tomorrow to finish the outside lights. I wasn’t prepared for those or I could’ve brought the supplies to get them done,” Trent explained as he stood on the ladder outside of Kellus’s shop.
“That’s not a problem at all. I just appreciate you doing all this,” Kellus said from below. This had to be thousands of dollars’ worth of electrical work.
“I’m happy to. Honestly.” The only light they had was from the open doors of his studio.
“Gage went nuts over that piece you’re working on in there,” Trent said, climbing off the ladder and stepping inside the studio for a closer look.
“I think it was more how the unusual color combination surprisingly complements each other in a way that’s unexpected,” he said, looking over at the large mounted wall piece he’d been working on the last couple of days.
“Are you selling it?” Trent asked in a much lower voice.
“That one’s designed to match the one Arik has in his living room, but I could make something if you need me to,” Kellus offered, loving the idea of being able to pay back all this help tonight.
“I was thinking Christmas. Is that enough time?” Trent asked, unbuckling his tool belt.
“Sure, I could draw something up and email you the design. See if it’s what you like,” Kellus offered.
“You know his taste; do something he’d like. I don’t know about any of this,” Trent said, carefully laying the heavy belt in the doorway. “Can I wash my hands?”
“Sure. Over here.” Kellus guided him to the sink in the shop. “I need to get your email address. And while they’re talking, tell me about the coloring you’re thinking or where you want to put it.”
~?~
Arik leaned against the hood of the sleek, silver BMW he’d sent Kellus this morning. The same one that Kellus refused to drive. He lifted his hand to his mouth, biting at the corner of his thumbnail. Gage stood about a foot away from him, bent toward him, listening as Arik filled him in on everything that had transpired since they’d last spoken. Which wasn’t all that long ago, but felt like eons with everything that had happened since.
The longer he spoke, the more the story seemed to unravel very much like a soap opera. He honestly might not even believe it himself if he hadn’t lived it. Picking at his fingernail was a bad habit he tried hard to break and quickly fisted his hand, tucking his arms over his chest, trying to keep his finger out of his mouth.