Chapter 12

Kara parked in the drive of Adam’s new house. She opened the back of her van and slipped on her tool belt. Adam opened the front door and then unloaded the power tools. “Where should we set up the chop saw?” he asked.

“Out here somewhere,” she replied and picked up a long extension cord. Kara plugged it into the outdoor outlet and regarded the glow of an LED indicator on the receptacle end. “Here’s power.”

Adam set up the folding bench, placed the saw on it and triggered the motor to test it. “Looks good.” He carried the compressor, hose and nail gun inside and plugged it into an outlet. The compressor roared to life, charging its reservoir.

Kara joined him inside. “I see the baseboard and chair rail has been installed.”

Adam gestured to a stack of one-by-twos. “I was going to make the wainscoting out of those -- create squares on the wall. I think the spacing between the squares needs to be uniform, say four inches. We can size the squares for a pleasing look and to fit the geometry. How long is that wall?”

Kara removed a tape measure from her belt and ran it along the wall. “Twelve six,” she said.

“Hmm ... The chair rail is...”

“Thirty up from the floor,” Kara replied after measuring.

“If we make the squares eighteen inches high and twenty-one long, we can fit six on this wall. Do you have a pencil?” She handed him a carpenter’s pencil. Adam used her tape measure to mark on the wall and a piece of one-by as a straight edge. “Like that.”

“That looks good,” she replied. “How about making the space between it and the baseboard a little smaller?”

“Like this?”

“Yeah.”

“Nineteen and a half. Let’s divide and conquer. For this wall we’ll need a dozen stiles, nineteen and a half with mitre cuts on both ends. We’ll need a dozen rails, twenty-one inches each, also mitre cuts. You don’t happen to have a chalk line, do you?”

“I’m an electrician, not a carpenter.”

“How about a spirit level?”

“I got one of those in the truck. I’ll go get it.”

She returned with the spirit level. “Maybe you can run the saw and I’ll nail ‘em up,” he suggested.

“Sounds like a plan.” Kara gathered up some lengths of one-by and carried them outdoors. Adam heard the sound of the saw running. Shortly she returned with a stack of cut pieces. “There’s enough for two panels. I’ll start cutting more.”

Adam measured and marked the wall and then began nailing the pieces in place with the nail gun. Kara brought in more pieces.

He nailed the last piece into place and stood back to examine his work. “Looks good, Adam,” she said.

“Having you cut while I nail cut the time in half. Well ... We’ve got three more walls and the dining room to do. The stiles will all be nineteen and a half, but the rails will differ based on the geometry of the wall.”

“Do we have enough one-bys?” she asked.

“More than enough. Let’s tackle this wall next.”

Adam nailed the final piece. “Look at this -- the job’s done and it’s only half past noon,” he said. “We made short work of it. Want to break for lunch? Are you hungry?”

“I’m famished. I didn’t eat much yesterday and only had that soup for dinner.”

“Let’s drive over to the Reef Inn for lunch.”

“Dressed like this?”

“It’s casual for lunch. They have burgers and fried fish on their luncheon menu.”

“Oh, I am in the mood for a fish sandwich,” she said. Adam locked the front door. “Are you leaving the saw set up? We’re not doing any more cutting, are we?”

“We probably should pack it up.” Adam unplugged the saw and carried it to her van while Kara coiled up her extension cord. He sat in the passenger seat and she backed the van onto the road.

“One nice thing about living out here is we’re close to the Reef.”

“And not so close to anywhere else,” she replied.

“Oh, it’s not that bad. I grew up out here and we never wanted for anything.”

Kara parked by the restaurant and they went inside. “Table for two,” he told the hostess.

“Would you like to sit in the porch?”

“Yeah -- that would be nice. We can sit and watch the oxbow silt up.”

Their server approached them. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“The water is fine,” Adam said.

“Are you ready to order?”

“Yeah -- I’ll have the cheeseburger with onion.”

“I’ll have the fish sandwich,” Kara added.

“And, two large Cokes,” Adam interjected.

“Those come with a choice of salad or French fries,” the server said.

“I’ll have the salad with bleu cheese,” Adam replied.

“I’ll have the fries,” Kara said.

“Excellent, we’ll have those out shortly.”

Adam looked across the table at Kara. He reached across to hold her hand but she demurred. “Kara -- are you all right?”

“Physically, I’m fine -- I’m getting over it. I’m feeling better and better as the day progresses. I’m absolutely raw inside emotionally, Adam. I feel like there’s a hole in my heart -- I’m grieving for that embryo. I didn’t expect to feel this way. I’m struggling to deal with it.”

“Well ... I feel like I have a hole in my heart, too.”

“Really? I wouldn’t have known.”

“Kara -- I think you externalize your emotions while I internalize them. Believe me, I feel it, too. What’s done is done and we need to move forward.”

“I know. I’m trying, Adam.”

“I love you, Kara.”

“I know.”

“Do you not love me anymore?” he asked.

“I still love you, Adam. I’m just working through things.”

Their server brought their meals. Kara tasted her sandwich. “This is really good,” she said.

“They do a good job here.”

“I really needed this,” she said. “I think I was becoming hypo-glycemic toward the end. My hands were beginning to tremble.”

“Not a good thing when you’re running a chop saw.”

Their server returned. “Well, folks, how was everything?”

“Excellent as usual,” Adam replied.

“Would you like some desert? This month we’re featuring our strawberry-chocolate ice cream parfait.”

Kara shook her head. “No, thanks.”

“I think just the check,” Adam said.

“I’ll be right back with it.”

“We should swing by Luther’s and grab a pizza to bake for dinner tonight.”

“We don’t have a way to keep it cold,” she replied. “Your refrigerator isn’t in yet.”

“I thought I’d spackle the nail holes and we’d be done.”

“What about paint?” Kara asked.

“We can’t paint until the spackle is dry.”

“What about above the chair rail? Do you have paint, brushes, rollers, trays?”

“Yeah I have those. I thought a medium gray for the living room and a light, lime-green for the dining room. I don’t have a ladder, though.”

“I have a couple ladders in my truck. Let’s see how much we can get done.”

“What about the pizza?” he asked.

“It’s only a five minute drive over here from the house,” Kara replied. “We can pick it up later.”

Adam sat across from Kara at her kitchen table. “You’re quite a worker,” he remarked as he reached for another slice of pizza. “We got both the living and dining rooms painted, top and bottom, and you even put on the switch plates.”

“Idle hands are the devil’s playground,” she replied.

“I’m really pleased with how the house turned out.”

“So am I. I just love that house, Adam. It was one of my favorite jobs working on it.”

“I’m glad.” He pushed back his empty plate. “So, what do you want to do, next? Take a walk, play cards?”

“Adam -- I think it would be best if you didn’t stay tonight. In fact, I think it would be best if we didn’t see each other for a while.”

He regarded her, slack-jawed. “Kara ... why?”

“I need some space to work through these emotional issues.”

“The dreaded I-need-space.”

“Adam -- this isn’t about you, it’s about me. When I experience unpleasant consequences from something I did, I don’t want to do it any more. Like, if I get food poisoning from a tainted salad bar, I wouldn’t want to go back to that restaurant. The abortion was an extremely unpleasant consequence of our relationship. That’s why I think we need to put it on hold for a while. I’m sorry, Adam.”

“I really think you’ll get over this faster if we work on it together.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Can I call you? Just to talk?”

“Please, don’t make it worse than it is. The more you push, the more I’ll resist. It’s how I am, Adam.”

“You said your appointment was the twenty-ninth. Are you keeping it?”

“Yes...”

“I want to be there.”

“There’s nothing you can do.”

“I still want to be there. I feel I have an obligation to be there. If your doctor discovers some complications, then I want to know about it. I know where the office is -- I looked up Dr Wolski on line. Just tell me when your appointment is.”

“It’s at two o’clock.”

“Okay, then. I’ll see you there at two on the twenty-ninth ... if I don’t see you sooner. Now, I’ll get out of your hair.”

She walked with him to her front door. “Good-bye, Adam,” she said. He leaned to kiss her lips. She turned her face away and he kissed her cheek.

Adam got behind the wheel, backed out into the street and drove a couple of blocks. He pulled to he curb, propped his forehead in his palms and wept.

Adam stood in his kitchen checking the time on his phone. A delivery truck pulled up to the house and he stepped outside to greet it.

“Adam Gowan?”

“That’s me,” he replied.