By Lucy

Of course, I still wake up alone.

Boy is it hard to pin this guy down, in more ways than one. I still can’t decide if he’s a good guy who wears a black cloak a la Batman, or a bad guy who is very, very good at manipulating people. One thing is for sure, there’s a sharp mind churning away behind those dopey green eyes. Occasionally I catch a glimpse of something truly diabolical, and for once I’m not sure I want to tear off the mask.

There is one thought skittering around the edge of my consiousness, that I keep shoving away… he’s avoiding you because he’s falling in love with you and he doesn’t want to. Just like you, about him.

The tangled webs we weave.

I drag myself out of bed and downstairs. Victoria is sitting on the couch, pouting.

“You and Kyle were supposed to help me get laid! Instead I had to listen to you f*ck all night!”

There are so many ways to process this. The first and most obvious is that, if Bart isn’t interested to the point that we’d need to get him liquored up to get his consent, she should probably stop trying. The second is that he’s got a girlfriend and she really shouldn’t be complaining about a guy who is technically unavailable. The third is that Kyle has told me so many stories about Bart that I am not allowed to repeat here, I don’t feel like I could let her sleep with him, in good conscience.

I’m also amused that we all agree Drew is the prettiest one here, but he’s the only one not getting hit on.

“Phsaw, you already told me you can’t hear anything more than us talking.” I deflect.

“That’s not the point!”

Yeah, yeah. I listen to her complain as I make and eat my breakfast.

Kyle surfaces around 9 and flops on the couch. “I got too much sleep, I’m dying.”

We all laugh. I definitely broke him in some way.

An hour later, he’s had a coffee and some breakfast. We made plans to do a loop around town; grocery shopping and the like. As we are in the front room putting on our shoes, Victoria runs past us, leaves the house and hops in the passenger seat of Bart’s car.

What?

First Tim’s, then the car wash. There’s a bit of a line. My chest squeezes; having time alone with Kyle, with nothing to do but talk, feels dangerous.

He mentions he used to play guitar with the drummer for, or the cousin of the drummer for, My Darkest Days. The name sounds familiar; they’re kind of Canadian rock royalty, affiliated with Nickelback and Three Days Grace. I wonder if Winter has played with them, in both senses of that word; it would be a pretty normal thing for her. I pull up her songs on Spotify for him to listen to and he immediately calls that she’s a multi-instrumentalist. Heh. As much as he tries to pretend to just be a scaffolder, there’s so many layers here and no one is perfect at hiding themselves.

Wait…

That song!

I’ve had this song stuck in my head since July, I know because I was trying to figure out what it was with the boys on night shift. I thought it had to be Nickelback or Theory of a Deadman… Well, Chad Kroeger did produce it, so no wonder it sounds like him.

That’s weird.

Kyle’s tired of talking about himself again and tells me to put my music on the car.

Oh, boy! I was kinda hoping he would. Music is one of my love languages; me and James’ early relationship was just sending songs back and forth to each other. But which song to pick…

Inside the Fire comes on first. I let it play for a bit; not a softie, me. Then Relentless by Arkells. As we enter the car wash, Inner Ninja comes on.

“Oh.” He chuckles. “I haven’t heard this song in forever.”

“Wait, you know Classified?”

“Yeah, he’s the best!”

Yay!

Finally our turn for the car wash. My head is spinning.

After the car wash, we go to Walmart. I need more controllers for the Switch, some food, and Kyle wants to check out board games.

We spend an hour at Walmart, just wandering around commenting on what’s on the shelves. It feels indulgent in so many ways, having all the time in the world.

I end up buying another set of “Joy-Cons”, and another wired controller. The Joy-Cons travel better, but I do prefer wired controllers. Kyle buys a Connect 4 game, apparently that’s a favourite of his. He also bought some paper for origami.

To M&M to restock for the week. A disinterested kid is manning the cash, which is boring. I miss the little old lady.

As we turn onto the street the AirBnb is on, his phone rings, which goes to the truck’s dash. Darryl. He answers it and they chat as he parks.

I sit in the truck for a minute. On one hand, I shouldn’t be listening to his phone calls. On the other, I don’t want to interrupt the call by opening and closing the doors to get my groceries out. Eventually I decide to split the difference and just take the frozen stuff from M&M’s.

Throw lunch in the oven and settle in the dinning room. I type away on my computer. When Kyle comes in from his phone call, he sits with me and works on his origami.

“What are you working on?” He asks me.

Oh… no taking that back. I decide to chance it, even thought it’s leaving my soul bare in a way I’m not quite ready for. I send him the finished blog post and he leaves the room to read it.

I’m worried I pissed him off, but he thinks it’s funny. “Here I was trying to figure out your story, and you were writing it the whole time!”

I smile tightly. Very few people know the whole Lucy story. Why do you need it anyway, boy? What do you want from me?

He gets a few more phone calls as the day winds on. I overhear ‘what did you hear from Darryl’, so it sounds like hometown drama. ‘I heard from so-and-so’.

I buy Mario Party and convince everyone to play a game, but no one is very interested. It doesn’t help that Mario Party on the Switch requires you to use half a Joy-Con, for some reason, but they’re also just hopelessly addicted to Mario Kart. I won, somehow. I always end up getting come-from-behind victories, where I’m in dead last because I had no stars but I usually end up getting the bonus stars for most coins, most mini-games one, and most special spaces landed on.

“I wonder how I could justify getting one of these.” Bart muses.

“A Switch? Just buy one.” You make foreman rate, after all.

“Just say you want to buy it for the kids.” Drew offers.

Monday morning is bollocks.

My gloves are finally too wrecked for me to continue using. I ask Bart for a new pair, but all he’s got are the extra large ones.

He also tells Kyle to stay on the ground, and comes up to dismantle with us.

Not only that, but he sets Virgil, Victoria and Drew to do one thing, and makes me come with him.

Well, if this is some sort of test, I shall pass with flying colours. I kill myself putting in 150% to keep up with the Terminator over here.

“How was your weekend?” Virgil asks, as we stand around waiting for the hoist.

“Fine. Me and Kyle went on a date.” I say bluntly, just to get that out of the way.

“Oh, cute. Where did you guys go?”

“Flint House.”

“Nice, that’s a good place. They have great steaks.”

“Virgil… how could you tell me and Kyle had a thing?” I ask sincerely.

“Oh, I dunno. I’ve just always had the eye for that kind of thing.” He shrugs.

Enlightening. “How was your day off?”

“Oh, you know, did a couple lines and helped my buddy cut down a tree.”

Nevermind.

At break, I text Kyle and ask him where he got his gloves. He says he can take me to Canadian Tire after work and offers to let me borrow his, since he doesn’t really need them on the ground. Surprisingly, his gloves fit me pretty well.

At one point in the middle of the days, Drew stumbles over a pile of loose gear – which is why there shouldn’t be any – and falls to his knees on the scaffold, screaming “Oh my God, I’m going to die!”

Me and Victoria laugh. Sure, it’s startling, but he wasn’t actually anywhere near throwing himself off the scaffold.

At the end of the day, before we go down, Bart stops me. “You worked hard today, Lucy, good job.”

When I get down to the ground, I immediately go over to Kyle, “Ok, now I’m really scared.”

“Why?”

“Bart told me I did a good job.”

Kyle bursts out laughing, “Can’t you just accept a compliment?”

What? “No, because I don’t believe he’s just offering me a compliment.”

“He is.”

Ok, new theory; he took me up the scaffold with him because he thought I was useless and Kyle was covering for me. I’m glad I proved myself, in that case.

We hop in the truck to go to Canadian Tire. The minute I connect my phone to the radio, Hallelujah by Rufus Wainwright comes on.

“Ah, there’s Lucy’s soft side.”

The song about orgasms from the Shrek movie? Sure. “I don’t have a soft side. Boys keep trying to find it, though.”

He gives me his coy little smile. “I think there is. Buried deep. Suppressed, even.”

My parents screaming, “Don’t cry or I’ll give you something to cry about!”

I fall silent. I want to argue that he’s wrong… usually I would immediately rebut that. To be soft is to be vulnerable, and being vulnerable equals being hurt, so I won’t do it. But part of me is intrigued where I usually wouldn’t be.

And yet… what of it? He’s leaving and I won’t see him again. Don’t cut me just to watch me bleed, boy.

I don’t understand how he always see right through me… And why I let him, when I should be running away screaming.

The dash lights up with a text. Darryl.

“So what’s the drama with Darryl?” I chance to ask.

“Ah.” He runs his hand through his hair. “He’s my buddy… my foreman at my old company – “

“Wait, is he your buddy or your foreman?”

“Foreman who thinks he’s my buddy.” He says, hesitatingly. “This is the company that fired me for my DUI.”

“Ouch.” I’d resisted the impulse to ask about his DUI… it seems like when people keep asking me about my cancer. It’s shitty and I don’t want to talk about it. I can’t pretend I’m not curious, though, especially since his answer when asked once was “it was a business lunch”. A BAC of over 0.08 means he slammed 4 drinks in an hour… But this is just a sympathetic ear.

“Yeah. Darryl wants me back.”

“Hmm… but you’re with this company now.” And, what, someone else at the company is calling to complain? I definitely heard him pick up the phone and say he’d already heard from Darryl, so there’s some kind of broken telephone going on there.

“Yep.”

“Just tell Darryl you’re moving to Thunder Bay.” I say cheekily.

“He’d open a branch there just for me.” Kyle says, rather defeatedly.

“Oh, fantastic! We’d have work right off the hop.”

“Yeah, you could be my foreman. Forelady?”

Hmm. “I’m only an apprentice.”

He shrugs. “I’m technically still an apprentice and I’ve gotten foreman rate before.”

It’s so tempting… to shack up and be comfortable with pretty green eyes here. Go to Whistler every January and see Yolanda and Margaret.

When we get home, shower and have dinner, I put on Nimona. Comfort movie.

He’s slouched across the couch, like usual, feet up on the armrest. I allow myself to slide down until my position mirrors his, my head resting on his shoulder. It feels uncomfortable, but I can’t resist the burning urge in my chest to be in physical contact with him. Is this what normal people experience?

After five or so minutes, I sit up, feeling awkward.

He pokes my stomach, a hint to go back to it. I giggle nervously.

“I don’t know how you sit like that.” I say, as a cover.

“You should put your feet up, it’s good for you.”

“Oh, alright.” I slide back down and hold my position longer. Drew wanders through to go out for a smoke and does a double take, but says nothing.

This is all weird. No normal dating here; we’ve technically gone right into living with each other. I wonder if that’s messing with his head at all.

After Nimona is over, he flicks through Netflix looking for something. We decide on Seinfeld, but not even five minutes in, he disappears to make a ‘quick’ phone call. When the clock ticks on ten minutes, I pause the show and head upstairs. On the way, I notice he forgot the oven on.

Half an hour later, he texts me, indicating his call is over.

“How come I’m always bugging you for sex, and not the other way around?” I ask.

“Well, I am broken…”

Hah hah.

“It’s awkward with so many people in the house.”

Better, but still… the only person who seems to notice is Victoria, and she’s admitted she can barely hear it and only knows sex is happening because she can hear a second voice in my room. I suppose there’s something to be said for everyone’s personal comfort level, but I don’t believe that this exceeds his.

“Something about being in a failing relationship for so long?”

Well now I’m just lost. I could imagine many reasons for that; anxiety about ‘putting yourself out there’, fear of ‘making a mistake’ again, the list goes on. I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to say or do about it. The first instinct is to go into call girl mode and offer him a sympathetic ear, but maybe I should just let him work it out.

Eventually I manage to talk him off the cliff and he comes upstairs to my room.

As I’m wrapped in his arms, thinking about the fact he now knows I don’t usually cuddle but hasn’t commented on it, he says, “You should cancel your train ticket.”

Hmm… no. Firstly, I don’t like this job and I definitely don’t want to be here when the minus 40 weather hits. Secondly, if I delay leaving any longer I might as well not leave at all, since this was supposed to be me escaping the winter. And thirdly… you don’t live in Thunder Bay, so whether I’m in Vancouver or Thunder Bay makes no difference.

“You should come to Vancouver with me. Go snowboarding at Whistler.” I counter.

“It has been a few years.” He kisses my cheek, “I should head back to my bed or I’ll want to keep f*cking you all night.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

Tuesday morning is the usual. It’s garbage day and Bart has an entire blue bin to himself, stacked to the brim with his milk jugs.

A surprise in the trailer. Some guy from head office is here, named Darren. He’s a short dude with a bushy moustache. He has an easy smile, but there’s no doubting that he’s a rat, here to make sure we’re toeing the line.

“Why are you here, Darren?” Bart asks.

“Well, MOL keeps showing up on-site.” Darren nods at Kyle, who chuckles and scratches the back of his head.

“Lucy, you’re on the ground with Kyle today.” Bart says.

What? I thought I passed your stupid test yesterday? Or maybe that’s why I am on the ground today, considering he did send Victoria down to the ground for a bit the other day. He wanted to make sure I’d actually work? Or to babysit Kyle?

Eh, whatever. I don’t have to wear a harness, belt and climb up 16 flights of stairs? Don’t threaten me with a good time.

Me and Kyle are both consummate professionals, though, lest you think there was any funny business. We both had our headphones in listening to our own music, and we quickly fell into a smooth pattern. There was a bit more flirting on the ground, admittedly, mostly comments tossed in passing. “That’s what she said” kind of stuff.

Bart doesn’t come back to the lunch room for break. He skips going back most of the week… keeping an eye on Darren?

After break, I am summoned up the tower to help move gear. Almost at the dance floor, and still waiting on the Bell guys.

After lunch, Bart sends Victoria to the ground to join us. He’s sending down all the decks above the dance floor, which don’t take that long to load in the hoist because we can only fit 20 in it. Stacking decks on the ground is usually a 2 person job, although Kyle can stack them by himself all day long because he is secretly jacked under the baggy hoody and jeans.

“Kyle is all out of f*cks to give, apparently, so I need the two of you to stack them neatly.” Bart says, practically pleading.

I mean, when is Kyle not out of f*cks to give, Bart?

Victoria is starting to really grate on me. Her crush on Bart is tired, and her music is irritating as well. There’s a fair amount of real rap, and I’m not afraid to admit I don’t like rap. It’s kinda rude and I prefer songs I can sing to, and when every other word is the N word I don’t feel comfortable with that (there will never be a clip of me saying the N word unless someone crafts a fake one with AI).

It’s quiet after work, just me and Kyle on the couch while everyone else hides in their rooms. I watch the Hazbin Hotel Live on Broadway. It’s just the VA’s singing the songs on stage, but it’s fun. If you have Broadway actors in your show, you gotta hit Broadway at least once, right? We play Connect 4 afterwards, with something boring on the TV.

Jeremy has been quiet. I noticed and I didn’t notice; too busy with work to count the days. I text him and ask if he’s ok; he replies that he’s not fine and he doesn’t want to talk about it.

Well… as long as no one’s dead and he’s not planning to hurt himself, I suppose that’s all I can do.

“How did you end up in the union, Kyle?”

“Well, funny story…”

Turns out, Kyle used to work for some tech company, running cables, which technically falls under the umbrella of carpentry even though it really sounds like it should be sparky or lineworker. When he found out, he signed at the hall for an apprenticeship and had enough hours they gave him third year right away. He mentions all these coding courses he’s got certs in, which is all Greek to me.

“Sounds like my friend Brandon. When he was working at Friday Harbour _”

“Wait, Friday Harbour in Barrie? I’ve worked there.” Kyle interrupts me.

We double check the years and I message Brandon to be sure. Brandon has met Kyle. I even remember Brandon mentioning a contractor who made a ‘selfie mirror’ out of a Raspberry Pi and a TV screen, like Kyle says he did.

In the same vein, I mention the name of the guy who signed me to the hall, and show Kyle a picture of him. Kyle’s worked with him, too.

That’s such a twist. I know up here it’s not odd to know someone who knows someone, but the GTA has a population of 6 million people and there’s lots of guys at the hall in Toronto.

Ships that pass in the night.

It’s impossible not to wonder how my life might have been different if we’d met in Barrie and not here. I’m sort of glad, though, because I definitely prefer living in Thunder Bay and can’t imagine wanting to move back there. It’s already occurred to me, the whole ‘one door closes, another opens’ – if Kyle hadn’t had his DUI, he wouldn’t be in Fort Frances right now.

“I had lots of odd jobs… in the wealthy parts of town… you know, families so wealthy, the kids have Filipino accents because they were raised by the maid?”

I nod. Been there. Usually as the mistress.

“When I was in rehab, I met [REDACTED]. I still have him on Facebook, he posts about his ex all the time. It’s kinda sad.”

“Wait, he’s a-B list celebrity. Either he was slumming it or you went to celebrity rehab.”

“He was slumming it.” He says with a laugh.

I could listen to his stories all day, but eventually the night draws to a close.

When I wake up in the morning, I have a familiar sinking feeling. The kitchen is spotless, which means Kyle couldn’t sleep and stayed up all night cleaning and drinking.

I’m on the ground again. Bart makes it clear that my real job is wrangling Kyle, yay. Why? Because we’re sleeping together? Oh, whatever, I so can’t be bothered to argue that I’m an independent woman and a competent carpenter, not a babysitter. If he wants to pay me 50 bucks an hour for it, more power to him.

It is a chore unto itself, though, partially because I still want to give him the benefit of the doubt. At one point I get so annoyed with him I exclaim, “I should get a ‘Kyle’ button”, because I’m yelling ‘Kyle!’ like I’m auditioning for Home Alone (yes, I know the kid’s name is Kevin).

“I’ve got a Kyle button, it’s in my pants.” He says, with his usual evil little grin.

When I can reorganize my thoughts, I retort, “I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t press that at work.”

“Why not, just sneak back to the AirBnb for a quickie…” He chuckles. “Since I am a ‘bad boy’ and all.”

“Technically, I didn’t call you a bad boy, Victoria did.” I’m undecided if she was being confusingly insightful or just got a lucky guess, because she doesn’t know all the other things about him that I know. She was wrong about assigning him the label of slut, though.

He’s clearly in a down mood, today. When we go back to the AirBnB for break (and just break, nothing else), I make him the offer; did he want to go out for dinner tonight, or do shots and play Mario Kart?

He doesn’t give me an answer right away, but he’s in a much better mood for the rest of the day.

Shortly before lunch, [REDACTED].

“One day you’re gonna be in one of those instructional videos on what not to do.”

“At least I’ll be famous!”

Hardy har.

I’m surprised he’s not ‘famous’ already, actually. Is he deliberately keeping his head down or just ‘unlucky’? He moves in all the right circles to make a name for himself.

“Can we do shots tonight, and dinner tomorrow?” He asks at lunch.

I laugh. “Sure, we can do that.”

After work, we hop in the truck and head to the liquor store. He’s like me, buying a small amount at a time to limit himself, so he’s out of anything we could use for shots. As we walk around the store, he pokes fun at me for being all loved-up.

“If you don’t need to go back to Toronto right away, you could always stay in Thunder Bay for a couple of days. Then I can sell the city to you.” I say nervously.

“Could do that. We could also stay in the AirBnb for a few days after they leave, since it’s paid up for the month.”

“A romantic weekend in Fort Frances?”

“I thought you didn’t do romantic weekends. So much for the emotionless girl, huh?”

“Don’t wind me up!”

“But it’s my favourite thing to do!” He says, grabbing my hands and pulling me in to plant a kiss on my cheek.

I blow a raspberry in response.

We end up buying some prepackaged shots that come from New Zealand, funnily enough.

Eat, shower, corral everyone into the living rooms for shots and Mario Kart. Me and Bart realize we both know the song “Sherry, Baby” by the Four Seasons and we belt it out together as everyone watches us, perplexed.

Somehow me and Kyle end up in my room again, the alcohol makes things a wee bit fuzzy. I was well rested and let it go way past my bedtime… past midnight, even. And yet we could still hear everyone playing Mario Kart downstairs.

“Thank you for this.” He says, referring to setting everyone up with shots and Mario Kart.

“I just want to see you smile.” I reply. That’s love, isn’t it? Real love. You just want to see them smile, whatever it is that gets them there.

When I wake up in the morning, my tongue feels burnt. We later deduce it was from the nicotine pouch in his mouth. I’m already gonna have nicotine withdrawal when I’m done this job, from everyone smoking around me all the time. Second-hand smoke is more potent than just smoking anyway, the particles mix with the air and have an improved ability to penetrate your lungs. That’s why hotboxing is so effective.

Pay day. I put the last bit on the credit card, and I am officially debt free! Another goal for the year, checked.

Another day on the ground. Bart seems happy, though, he did a lap and couldn’t find anything to complain about. Hah! Stupid git…

When we come back from break, tragedy strikes. The Bell guys showed up with 2 sea-cans of material. Then they told Darren they were going to be two weeks, when we’re almost done ripping down the dance floor and to their level. Since the layoff was coming on December 20th, the company will probably just lay us off early.

Which means saying goodbye to Kyle.

My heart falls immediately. I’m not ready. I know I only had another week, but it was easy to lose myself in the here and now.

Now I can’t.

The day limps by at its usual pace. I can’t keep up with the flirting and the jokes; I’m blinking back tears.

No, not yet.

After work, we shower and go to dinner at the Chinese place. Kyle loses his car keys twice.

“I have the memory of a goldfish, that’s why I’ve got Airtags on everything.”

“I don’t believe you!”

“Why not?”

“You remember all the dumb stories I tell you! All the things I like and dislike, this and that…”

“There might be a reason for that.” He says, looking me dead in the eyes.

What?

There…

Might…

Oh.

Oh no.

I’m not ready to say goodbye, because I never want to.

Everyone wants to play Mario Kart when we get home, but I can’t. I run to my room. I hope that putting music on for a minute might help me pull myself together, but it’s hopeless. The tears start falling and I can’t make them stop.

Victoria texts me, “Why aren’t you down here being social?”

“I’m crying.”

She runs upstairs immediately. I’m wrapped in my blanket, hugging my teddy bear, face streaked in tears.

“What’s wrong?” She says, in a gentler voice than I’d expect from her.

“I don’t want to say goodbye to Kyle.” I burble.

“Oh, honey.” She wraps me in a hug. “I’ll go get him.”

No, no, I don’t want him to see me like this… and she’s gone.

He comes upstairs a few minutes later.

“What’s going on?” He pauses when he sees the tears.

I shake my head, unable to speak.

“You have a teddy bear. What’s his name?” He asks, sitting on the bed and taking him from me.

“Bearie.” I chuckle mirthlessly. “I was like 6 when I named him.”

“He looks his age.”

He does. I should fix him.

“I don’t want to say goodbye.” I whimper, finally.

“Aww.” He jumps on the bed and pulls me to his chest. “We don’t have to.”

“But… But… You’re gonna go back to Toronto and I’ll be in Thunder Bay…” I twist to look up at him.

“Thunder Bay seems like a nice city.” He says, smiling. “It’s something we can talk about.”

We spend an hour or two talking, mostly him winding me down from my crying. I feel a bit better, but only a bit… there was no concrete discussion of him actually moving here. And to a certain extent, I wouldn’t expect there to be… he should have some time to go home and think about it. But it hurts all the same.

The first thing I do in the morning is text Kevin, “Can we talk tonight?”

“Sure!” He says, but he’s gotta know what I want to talk about.

Another day, another dollar. The dance floor is mostly down at the point. You can tell the exact moment me and Kyle got tired of stacking plywood neatly.

At one point, I shoot Kyle a glare over a flippant comment he made and he says, “If looks could kill I’d be dust.”

When Victoria comes down to join us for the last quarter, she comments on something amiss in the yard. “Look, I’ve spent all week trying to wrangle the chaos goblin, ok? I can’t do everything.” I reply wearily.

“I know, and we appreciate it.”

The office wants us to work Monday and Tuesday next week. Bleh. I’d make just a little less than I would on EI, so I’m just working for free then. If they laid us off tomorrow I could just not freeze my butt off in the cold and make the same amount.

Shower and throw dinner in the oven after work. Bart is weirdly chatty with me, which I don’t appreciate when I’m running over scripts in my head. Kyle wanders down from his shower in just a towel, just to derail my thoughts even more.

At the appointed time, I go upstairs and call Kevin. We talk for a bit about other things as well. Two months past the due date, technically, but it still hurts a bit.

“I’ll always be there for you, no matter the label.” He says.

“And I as well.” Kevin’s always been good to me, and I really hope we keep being good friends.

I wander downstairs. No other way to do this… or maybe there is, but it’s not my style. “I am single!’ I declare, with a flourish.

Victoria smirks. Kyle looks confused. “What?”

“I broke up with Kevin.”

“Just now?”

“Yup.”

It takes an hour or two to kick in, but there’s a noticeable change in Kyle’s demeanor after that. He even grabs my butt and kisses me in front of Bart, who just seems annoyed by it.

It’s too cold to work the next day. We get in to the trailer and Bart stomps in. “The hoist won’t start, just go home.”

Don’t need to tell us twice.

Me and Victoria hop in the car and go to Safeway. We buy supplies to bake cookies, she buys what she needs to make Finn pancakes, and I get what I need to make beef bourguignon. The liquor store isn’t open yet so I can’t get a bottle of wine.

While we wait for the Finn pancakes, Kyle takes off without saying anything.

After we have the Finn pancakes, I wander upstairs and crawl into bed. I’m tired.

I’m awoken from my nap by Kyle returning. He hops into bed with me for a tumble.

After we finally decide to peel ourselves from the bed and tidy up, we head out shopping. I still need to stop at M&M’s too.

The nice old lady is working at M&M’s today. The store is full of middle aged women shopping, and they’re all set aflutter the minute they hear I’m a scaffolder. They have a million questions about being a woman in the trades, and what the water tower job is like. As we leave the store, one of them says, “Wow, she’s so brave!”

As we hop in the truck, I comment, “I’m surprised no one asked me about the hunky boy with me.”

Kyle chuckles, “Hunky?”

“Gosh, you really aren’t used to that, are you?” He might look slim in his baggy clothes, but once the hoody comes off, welcome to the gun show!

Go back to the AirBnb and write a bit. Start on dinner.

Silly Lucy misjudged how long that would take. I haven’t cooked on this stove yet and it takes forever to heat up enough to cook the bacon and sear the beef.

The others start playing Mario Kart and doing shots, but I have to finish my blog since we’re working Sunday in lieu of today. Once the stew in on to simmer, I go back to writing. As the stew finishes up, I throw a loaf of bread in the oven; beef bourguignon is properly served with fresh bread, to soak up the gravy.

Victoria and Kyle tear into the stew; Kyle goes back for seconds. Drew and Bart have been snacking away all day and aren’t hungry.

Bart makes me do like three shots in a row to catch up. I do – that’s not too difficult – but it hits me hard, harder than it usually would. Because dinner was late? Or I’m tired? More shots follow and I lose track.

Kyle surrenders his controller to Victoria; he’s had too much to drink as well.

“Come sit with me if you’re not playing!” I demand.

“Just go sit with her, man, we all know you’re f*cking.” Bart says, irritated.

“Oh, alright.” Kyle says reluctantly, and slumps on the couch next to me. Then he starts getting handsy.

The last thing I remember is Bart saying, “Kyle, take Lucy upstairs and f*ck her before she’s a puddle on the couch.”

Oh, wait.

I also think I was so drunk I said the L word.

I’m pretty sure he said it back, too.