“What happened here?”
Jimmy stared in disbelief what he encountered upon his arrival, something he usually see in a condemned house. Their perfectly-functioning wooden door was unhinged, laid on its side, denied of its use due a hasty decision he could have stopped if he was at home.
Gemma approached him with a bottle of an ice-cold beer. It was the least she could do to lower her husband’s high blood pressure. By the looks of it, he was not in the mood to listen to white lies.
“The ref would not fit in so I asked one of the delivery men to take the door down.”
Jimmy’s right palm was already caressing his forehead. He tried hard to convince himself not to lose his cool. Drinking the beer helped somewhat.
“Why did they not restore it as it was? They took it down, naturally they should have put it back.”
Gemma zipped her mouth: Jimmy was correct. She was afraid to admit that it was her fault because she forgot to tell the guy. Or then, she simply considered the task could be accomplished easily by her carpenter husband.
She followed him inside, careful not to say another word about the door.
“They should have entered through the kitchen.” Jimmy shook his head repeatedly.
She pretended not have heard the remark. The thought of it though crossed her mind earlier but since she wanted her neighbor to see how big the ref was, she ordered the unreasonable.
Jimmy was resigned to the fact. Instead of a fitful evening relaxation, he had to fix the door before going to bed. Otherwise, they would be inviting burglars for a completely free access crime.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Gemma changed the subject quickly. There was no use arguing about something that has passed. Her gaze concentrated on her prize.
“I bet,” Jimmy quipped almost sarcastically. “What’s inside 7-Eleven?”
Gemma accepted the joke coolly although she could not complain. Besides the door was still left unhinged and she did not want Jimmy pissed with her wild rebuttal.
“Do you like something to eat?” she asked cordially, again switching topics in a flash.
“I’d love to,” he replied, carrying his tools of the trade to the front door. “I’ll just take care of this before opening that restaurant of yours.”
She heard him chuckle walking away, the allusion to the giant ref subtly delivered.
“Wait till I fill it up, you will realize I made the right decision.”
“God help me” was his answer.
Before she could say another word, an awfully loud noise assaulted the ears of the neighborhood.
“Sarah!” Gemma uttered the name instinctively. That proud woman issued her challenge before the day was over.
When he came back, Jimmy walked the talk: he looked like the man himself. His wife’s pronounced dislike of his action registered on her frowning face.
“I think I like it,” he smiled with complete satisfaction.
(to be continued)