#LionsShare snippet: The kids clean up after dessert—strawberry shortcake with homemade pound cake and sweet biscuits, fresh sugared strawberries from my dilettante garden, and whipped cream—and go about the business of preparing for the first day of school. My dad and mom go home. Finn reads Kaia a story and tucks her in, calmly tells Calvin what’ll happen if either of us get a phone call from school the next day, talks to Ryan a little about football practice, kisses Gwen good night, gets a second (third?) helping of strawberry shortcake, and settles in at the dining room table next to me with his laptop open . “God, this is good, Blythe,” he mutters around a bite. Strawberry juice is trickling down his chin, then hits his snowy white dress shirt. He knows. He doesn’t care. We do this every night, working in silence together, me on my blog, he on whatever trials he’s got going or big deals he’s wheeling. “You’re mad.” “I’m not mad,” he says testily. “I’m annoyed that you’re doing everything you can to not finish this house. The deck’s a stalling tactic.” It certainly is. “Tell me you’re in love with this house and I’ll get off your back.” I can’t. I like it a whole lot, but it’s not my one true love. Finn knows this, which is why he said it, but this point is also moot. He’d be even more pissy if he knew _why_ I’m stalling. My one true love is a few blocks from here, a crumbling Greek revival masterpiece nobody’s taken to completion. It’s on the National Register of Historic Places, the worst house in a grand neighborhood, and I’m waiting for the current owner to give up on her. I’m so in love with her I ache when I pass her on my morning walk. I talk to the guy who’s working on her, get a good idea of her problems, try to assess his level of frustration, and never let him know who I am or what I do or what I want.
Posted on: Mon, 01 Sep 2014 18:44:56 +0000
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