"About what?"
"About whether I should show them to my dad. Every time I bring her up, we get in a fight because he refuses to talk about her." He glances back at the house. "Maybe I'll wait and see what else we find in those boxes before I talk to him." He nudges my foot with his. "You should go. I need to do some sanding tonight so it's going to get loud and messy."
"You could come over and watch TV later."
"Thanks, but when my mind is racing I can't sit around. I have to be moving. Keep busy." He reaches over and holds my hand and smiles. "You're a good neighbor."
I smile back. "Thanks."
"And a good employee." His face turns serious. "And a good friend. I'm really glad I met you, Callie."
I nod, feeling horrible that I haven't opened up to him the way he's opened up to me. He's told me about his ex cheating on him, his issues with his dad, the real reason he's renovating this house, and the fact that he's keeping it, which he hasn't told anyone else. And I've told him almost nothing.
I'm not a friend. I'm just the girl who lives next door. And I'll never be more than that.
Chapter Twenty
Nash
It's been almost three weeks since Callie found those photos of my birth mom. She hasn't found any more, but she still has a lot of boxes to go through. Instead of sorting through them, she's been helping me with the kitchen. I didn't ask her to. She volunteered. She kept sneaking in there, watching what I was doing and asking if she could help, so I let her, and now she wants to take part in the rest of the renovation. She's like me, in that she likes seeing something that seems like it can't be saved, come back to life.
With Callie's help, the kitchen is coming together faster than I'd planned. The cabinets are all in place, along with the new dishwasher, stove, and fridge. This week I'll be installing the floor tile, then I'll put up the baseboards and fix up the walls so they're ready to paint. After the kitchen is done, I'll start on the living room, ripping up the carpet to make room for the wood floors. But before I do that, I need Callie to finish going through the boxes that are still stacked in the living room, so she's going to get back to that tomorrow.
I think Callie purposely took a break from sorting through my grandfather's things because she was afraid of what she might find and how it would affect me. After those photos showed up, I wasn't myself. I had to let it sink in that the woman in the photo was my mom. For years, I had this image of what she might look like, but the woman in the photo didn't look the same, and I started imagining what this woman was like. What she did after she left me. Where life took her.
For the past few weeks, I've shared those thoughts with Callie. She's the only one I've talked to about this. I'm not ready to talk to my dad, and this isn't something I'd talk to my brothers about. They think Barb, my stepmom, is the only woman I should consider my mom. And for the most part, I do. My stepmom raised me since I was a baby and is the only mom I've ever known. Growing up, I never thought of her as a stepmom. She was always just my mom, just like she was to my brothers. But that doesn't stop me from wanting to know more about my birth mother. I've explained all this to Callie and she understands why I'm doing this. I just wish my family would.
Callie and I have continued to have dinner together every night and she spends most of her free time over here. We're growing closer as friends, but she still doesn't want to be more than that, and maybe that's for the best. Right now, I'm focused on the house and these never-ending questions about my birth mom, so now probably isn't the best time to be starting a relationship with Callie.
Even though we're not officially dating, we still kiss and touch and do things couples do, except for having sex. We haven't gone there yet, and whenever we get close to doing it, Callie stops us. She's not ready to take that next step. So for now, we're taking things slow, getting to know each other.
The problem is, only one of us is getting to know the other. Callie knows almost everything about me and I still know very little about her. She's told me about college and a few of her classes, and she mentioned she has a friend who lives in New York, but that's about it.
"Can I help you?" the woman behind the counter asks. It's Monday afternoon and I'm at city hall to check on my permit for some electrical wiring I need to do in the living room. I submitted the paperwork weeks ago and still don't have the permit. Given Katie's threats to get her father to deny my permit request, I'm worried they won't give it me so I showed up here in person to see if I could talk to someone who could fix this. There's no way I'm letting Katie get in the way of my renovations.
"I requested a permit for electrical work a few weeks ago and never heard back." I hand the woman a copy of the form.