So I should be all happy and relaxed, but still… why aren’t they here?
“Mia? You listening?”
“Sorry. I was distracted for a second. You were saying?”
“I asked how the writing is coming.”
“Better. I’m working in what was Jake Ryan’s bedroom, because it’s the farthest away from the noise. I’m not in love with a lot of what I’ve written, but at least I’m closing in on getting done. I’ve got about six chapters to go.”
“Then you get paid?”
“Pfft, I wish it were that easy. Then I turn in the manuscript, my editor requests rewrites, I turn those in, then I get paid. If I get this done next week when it’s due, I’m looking at at least six to eight weeks before I see any money. That’s about when Vlad and Co. anticipate being finished with the house.”
“Cool. Bet you can’t wait. Anyway, it’s after ten, so I should probably come out of the closet and get to work.”
“You going to be okay?” I ask.
“As long as you come with me on Friday, I’m golden. Thank you for talking me down.”
“Bye, Kara.”
“Go write! Be brilliant! See you in a few!”
I’m glad I was able to calm Kara, but as I head up the stairs to my office, I can’t help but feel a twinge of something stress related.
Where are they already?
Twelve o’clock and they’re not here. Not panicking.
I come downstairs for an apple juice at one thirty. I kind of hoped the guys had simply been working quietly and I just didn’t know they were here. My eyes immediately dart to the bucket of Monday Munchkins I set out this morning.
They’re completely untouched.
Trying really hard not to panic.
At two, I call Vlad and get his voice mail.
At three, I text him, and keep doing so at ten-minute intervals throughout the afternoon.
At five p.m., I receive a text back from Vlad.
It contains one word:
Revolution
With my heart in my throat, I drag the television out from under its tarp and turn it on, flipping to the first news channel I can find. After Anderson Cooper finishes his think piece on Miley Cyrus, he mentions a violent flare-up in Kyrgyzstan between Uzbek and Kyrgyz forces. While he speaks, they smash-cut to footage of opposing armies.
I can’t help but notice how half of the soldiers are clad in outfits exactly like my builders wear.
My builders.
Who should be installing my toilet but instead are likely on the other side of the world engaging in civil war.
With all my money.
I briefly wonder if the cash for my six-headed steam shower is helping fund this revolution.
Yeah. I can probably panic now.
Chapter Sixteen. DON’T TAZE ME, BRO
I scan the Web page in front of me to make sure I’ve ordered everything we need.
Your Amazon.com Shopping Cart Items — To Buy Now
Bathroom Remodeling for Dummies
The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Electrical Repair
Home Improvement for Dummies
Kitchen Remodeling for Dummies
Landscaping for Dummies
Painting Do-It-Yourself for Dummies
Plumbing Do-It-Yourself for Dummies
Before I press “Proceed to Checkout,” I add one more item.
Wilderness Survival for Dummies
There. That ought to cover it.
* * *
“Hello, sir, hope you’re enjoying the weather today. How am I? Better than I was on Monday. I guess the bright spot in our contractor’s absconding with our whole renovation budget is that it wasn’t intentional. Nobody expects the Kyrgyzstan Inquisition, right?” I laugh bitterly.
I lean back and let the sunlight hit my face. “No, I don’t really know what I meant by that either; it just sounded funny. Ironically I was unaware Kyrgyzstan even existed last week, and now it’s pretty much all I talk about. Want to know about the city of Bishkek or Lake Issyk-Kul? I’m well versed. Did you know their national sport is horse riding, and no one in the EU will allow planes registered in Kyrgyzstan to fly in their airspace because of security concerns? Because I do. Shall I go on? I’m kind of an expert now.
“Anyway, boring, I know. Point? At first I thought this was all an elaborate ruse by Vienna to completely screw us, but I gave her far more credit than she was due. She’s more low-grade thug than criminal mastermind. Turns out Vlad isn’t a thief so much as he is a mercenary with terrible timing.”
I glance down at the flowers I’m holding. I cut wild roses from the backyard today because peonies don’t come cheap. “On Wednesday, the supplies he said he ordered began to arrive. So far we’ve received the spa tub for the master, a whole bunch of toilets,134 Sheetrock and cement backer board, boxes and boxes of various tiles, and I just got a call that our countertops will be delivered next week. Granted, Vlad still has all the money earmarked for labor, so it’s not exactly like we’re ahead of the game, but it could be worse.”
I smile and nod. “You’re right; I’ve got to stop saying that. Every time I say it could get worse, it gets worse. Speaking of, Mac’s started his leave of absence — unpaid, of course. At least he’ll still have his job once we get these projects knocked out. But I’m not looking forward to the process. When I get home, we’re bringing the tub upstairs; then he and his friend Luke are working on plumbing. I’m a little afraid.”
I pick a damaged petal off one of the roses, and, not knowing what else to do with it, I stuff it in my pocket. This is not the kind of place where I want to litter. “I got a one-week extension on my book. Yep, that’s it; that’s all Nat could arrange after the first one. I’ve got to kick ass this week, because I’m out of second chances. And that’s what’s going on. I should probably scoot but I didn’t want to leave you hanging.”
I place the roses on the ground.
“See you next week, sir. And thank you for listening.”
Many things can put the strength of your marriage to the test.
Infidelity.
Alcoholism.
Family conflict.
Children.
Illness.
Dishonesty.
Financial issues.
Yet I’m convinced nothing puts more strain on marital communication than trying to haul a whirlpool tub up a flight of stairs, which we’re currently in the process of doing. I’m at the front of the tub, attempting to navigate, while Mac and his idiot friend Luke hoist up the rear. To say it’s not going well would be like saying the Hindenburg ran into a bit of turbulence.
The problem isn’t the tub’s weight, per se. At the most this thing weighs a hundred pounds. Spa tubs really get heavy only once they’re filled with water (and bodies), and if Vlad hadn’t reinforced the floor upstairs before he ran off to start an uprising,135 this would have been a nonissue because we couldn’t have used it.
The problem is the size of the tub. We couldn’t fit it in the front door, so we had to go all the way around the back and try to get it in through the sliding glass doors. After much sweating and swearing, we couldn’t fit it in that way either, and both Mac and Luke started to make elaborate plans to pull the windows out of their casings in an effort to establish a wide enough entry when it occurred to me that maybe we should just take the damn thing out of the box.