I’d started working on myself the next day on my first day at work—after sixteen hours of sleep—and slowly but surely, I was getting a better grip on my mental health and my strength. What was weird was that I didn’t struggle when it came to the kids, but sometimes it's easier seeing something for other people than it is for yourself.
“Stop thinking so deeply,” Garrett murmured, snapping me out of my thoughts as we waited for Clyde to stop pooping in a patch he’d decided on in the woods. “This is meant to be a relaxing experience.”
“I was just thinking about my cheesy arm,” I chuckled, pulling on two pairs of disposable gloves and getting a bag ready.
This was another area we’d worked on—poop. It seemed to have dominated way too much of our time, but finally, we knew what we were doing. Shit literally did happen, but it happened less if you didn’t mess around with a dog’s diet. Clyde was on one brand of dog food, and we were all much happier for it. Sheena also had a sensitive stomach, so the pediatrician had cut out certain foods from it, which meant no more accidents there either.
Snickering, he looked around us and then straightened up. “Nope, I can’t do it,” he clipped, snatching the bag out of my hands. “I need to show you what I’ve done.”
Poor Clyde had only just come out of his poop crouch, so his moment of relief ended when he felt the tension coming off his master. With an almost scooping motion, Garrett had the poop in the bag and was pulling me with his free hand back to the vehicle, Clyde walking close to my side.
I wasn’t exactly unfit, but I also wasn’t fit enough to jog through the cold air and not suffer as a result, which was why I was panting when we got to the truck. “What do you mean what you’ve done?”
Throwing the bag in the bed of the truck, he unlocked the doors and opened mine and Clyde’s. “In you go. I wanted to show it to you after we’d had a walk—when you’re exhausted,” he whispered to himself. “I’m nervous and excited, but I think you’ll like it.”
As he rounded the front of the truck, I belted myself in and looked in the back of the cab to see Clyde watching Garrett with a frown. “Think he’s got a guilty conscience about something, bud?”
Obviously he couldn’t answer, but that didn’t matter because Garrett had his door open and was in his seat with the engine running in seconds.
He was just about to reverse out of the space when he slammed his hands down on the wheel. “Okay, they broke ground on our house. There, that’s the secret.”
“We have a house?”
He’d bought the plot of land that he’d told me about after I’d fallen in love with it, but as far as I knew, we hadn’t picked a house yet. Had we?
“You kept going back to the one kit, so I ordered it with the additions you said you loved. It’s only the house itself, so all of the kitchen, bathrooms, and interiors are up to you to pick.”
That was so freaking cool!
Eyeing me cautiously, he noted, “You’re not pissed.”
This remark shocked me more than his revelation. “Should I be?”
“I don’t know. I had the contractor working on laying the foundations after it all went through before it hit me that I hadn’t told you what I was doing,” he blurted, sweeping his hand through his dark hair.
“I kept meaning to, but then I’d look at the list of things you said you wanted the house to have structurally and got excited watching the 3D image of how it would look change on the screen. Then they laid the foundations, the kit was delivered, they unpacked it…” he trailed off and swallowed awkwardly, just as Clyde stuck his nose through the gap between the seats. “It’s cool, buddy. Just me digging myself out of a hole.”
Grinning at how uncomfortable he looked, I tapped the wheel. “Let’s go see our new house, then. I don’t know why you’re pissed. I loved the kit you kept pointing out, and really it’s what inside that matters most to me.” I shrugged.
Staying quiet, he backed out and started driving us toward the land, looking at me every now and then like he was waiting for my composure to crack.
When we were five minutes away from our destination, it did. Not because of what he’d done, but because of what he kept doing.
“For the love of Moses, Garrett, cut it out. I love that you did this and wanted us to have a home even though we haven’t exactly discussed where we’re headed long term, but it gives me an idea that you see us going the distance. Which might I add,” I leaned in closer to him and snapped, “is what I want. Us having a place with this story attached to it is perfect for me, but if you keep looking at me like I’m going to explode—”