Page 72 of Error Handling
I laugh.
“Okay, man,” Kahlil slouches and waves his hands. “Never mind. I’m being too nosey.”
“I like her a lot,” I say.
Kahlil’s eyes widen. “You like her I’m-going-to-stay-in-Charleston a lot?”
“That’s what this is about, isn’t it?”
“True. I am feeling a bit selfish ‘cause I don’t want my friend to move away, but more importantly, is she worth it to you?”
I grab my water bottle and spin it on its base. I like her a lot. How much is a lot? Is it stay-in-Charleston a lot? “I don’t know,” I say finally. “But I do know, I promised Gary I’d fix up her apartment, and I keep my word.”
“So, you’re not leaving next week?”
“I haven’t interviewed yet.”
Kahlil smiles and quickly covers it with his hand.
I shake my head and roll my eyes, but I’m smiling. “I just haven’t gotten around to it.”
“Okay. Okay, then. You tell me how that goes.”
“You know I will,” I say.
“I know you will.” Kahlil points at me. “I know you will because I know you.” He stands, finger still pointed. “I know you, Chris Butcher.”
“We’ll see about that,” I say.
“All right. I’m on landscaping duty today. I’ll see you around. Enjoy ‘sanding those floors’ with Sarah.”
I shake my head again.
“And don’t wear yourselves out,” Kahlil says.
“I’m renting a sander. We should be fine.”
Kahlil flashes me a big smile. “Later.”
We salute each other as he heads out the door.
I commence my day at Birch Hall, where I’m on duty this week repainting the hallway walls and trim. It’s an easy job that allows me to think. Too much. Sarah’s big brown eyes swim in my thoughts while Kahlil’s interrogation replays.How much do you like her?
I have stronger feelings for Sarah than I did for Allison in the beginning. Maybe because I was just a teenager then. Now, I’m a man with one serious relationship in my past, a relationship that got as intimate as a relationship possibly could. As a result, my emotions are already revved in anticipation of what could be.
Not that anything will happen with Sarah anytime soon, but I can imagine it in detail. I need to tamp down my desires and remain a gentleman. And I will. Because I’ve already made the mistake of putting the cart before the horse and look where it got me: six years wasted on a doomed relationship, and another year reeling from the loss of it.
This time, I’m determined to wait until after marriage to experience the culmination of love. Call me old-fashioned, but waiting just seems to make life, love, and relationships less complicated.
I spend the rest of my eight-hour workday painting, and then I drive home and grab something to eat before heading over to Sarah’s. We spend most of the evening in different rooms focusing on our own projects, Sarah on peeling away the vinyl, while I demo the bottom cabinets in the kitchen, something I’ve been putting off so Sarah can still use her kitchen sink.
Since Sarah has an evening class on Tuesday, I decide to go on call with At Your Service. A landlord pings me at six o’clock to fix a leaking water heater. It’s a small unit, and I go to Lowes for a replacement and have it installed by ten o’clock. Afterward, I call it a day and go to bed, only to wake up again to another day of painting at CofC.
Wednesday night, Sarah and I work on our separate projects again. I shore up a floor joist and then begin securing the subfloor, and Sarah manages to remove another large section of vinyl. Only one corner of the living room remains.
I enjoy working side by side with Sarah, enjoy her presence even when we aren’t speaking. Just being in the same house with her causes an inexplicable warmth to radiate through my body.
I relish the moments we stop for a glass of water and chat about inconsequential things like our favorite movies growing up, or our favorite flavors of ice cream.