Chương 18: My Home Is Your Home

Nadia leaned against me as we watched the contractor slowly come down from the main roof and inspect the small tiled roof over the porch. He was huffing and mumbling, acting like an old grumpy man despite his clean-shaven looks.

"I'm gonna be honest with y'all," he began, and his voice matched the mumbling much more than his tidy face.

"The water's seeped in and done some damage already." He hopped down the other ladder, clearing the last distance between him and us.

"How bad is it?" I asked.

"Bad enough that you two need to get some work done, or come spring you'll be living in a swamp," he said.

"Full weatherproofing. See these cracks here?" He fished out his phone and showed us some pictures he'd taken.

"The underlayment is gone here, here and here. The water's infiltrated the structure, and it's eating away at the support beams."

"How much is it going to cost?" He must have seen my grimace, because he paused for a moment before eyeing his truck.

"Let me scratch some figures, do a couple of calls. See if I can give you an honest quote." When he came back with his best offer, it was still way beyond anything we could afford.

"I usually don't do this," the man said.

"It's not the proper way, but I think I can do some emergency repairs. A patchwork job, to make sure your roof survives the winter and spring storms. The bare minimum. Here, I already prepared a quote for that too." He handed the paper to me, and I passed it over to Nadia. The number was still painful, but it was… manageable. It meant that we'd have to do the other two bounty hunts with that Latnium-government app, and perhaps even register so we could do more, but it was doable.

"We can trust him," Nadia murmured, looking over the quote.

"I checked. And he wants the job." Her eyes moved from the paper to the way he kept glancing at us while putting away his tools. She nudged my side with two fingers.

"Ask what we can take off without touching the materials." I hummed. He was already doing us a favor by going out of his comfort zone.

"If we clear the access and deal with the debris ourselves, what can you take off the labor?" The contractor stopped packing and looked at me, then at Nadia.

"You stay out from under me while I'm working, and you pay the materials upfront, I can shave a little off. Not a miracle."

"Not many miracles to go around, these days," I said, smirking at Nadia, who smiled back. We did have our own miracles. He scratched a new figure on the quote. It still took most of our money, but at least we weren't going to live in a damp, cold house anytime it rained. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings. Before packing the rest of his things, he ran his tape along the shed's outer wall and ducked inside.

When he came out, he was stroking a beard that wasn't there on his clean-shaven chin.

"That shed's size doesn't make sense," he said.

"Outside wall to wall, inside usable space. The measurements don't match up." I swallowed. Nadia glanced at the shed.

"It's a grower, not a shower, so to speak." The contractor sputtered at the dirty joke.

"A grower shed!" he bellowed.

"Ha! That's one for the records."

"So," I said, lifting the amended quote.

"Materials upfront, and we handle the cleanup?" His attention returned to the roof.

"That'll get the worst of it weatherproofed. The rest, you'll still have to deal with." I looked at the shed one last time, but Nadia had already hooked her arm through mine.

"One disaster at a time, my prince," she said. ◈◈◈"There goes our money," I said, sighing hard. After setting aside the amount needed to pay the contractor, we weren't left with much at all. Another bounty run was necessary, if only to give us some breathing room. We had called it household money when she came back with the car, and now we were setting most of it aside for the household. Fitting.

"There it goes indeed," Nadia said, standing up and starting with lunch.

"Gotta say, living in the car was much less expensive. This mansion that you have is a true money sink, my Adrian. You're lucky I love you, and this house and…" MEOW.

"Yes, you too, Nero. You too. Come here." She lifted the cat, who didn't look too happy about it, and made him twirl through the air until he began to yowl, and only then did she let him down.

"You look glum," Nadia said when she looked at me again. Her smile didn't falter, but a hint of worry crept in.

"Adrian, love." She touched my hand.

"What's up?"

"I like it when you call me love," I said. She knew it was a diversion, of course.

"I like calling you love too, because I love you. So? What's up?"

"The house," I said, searching for the right words.

"Last time the topic came up, we didn't really say it."

"Yeah," she admitted, sitting near me while the water began to boil in the pot and the tomato sauce simmered with that little wrinkly basil leaf we found in the freezer.

"My bad there. I wasn't ready for that talk."

"Are you now?" I asked.

"Oh, Adrian," she said, leaning in.

"I love you, my prince. I love how worried you are about me, my place in the world." She kissed me, a quick, chaste thing.

"Yes, I am ready. Thanks to you."

"So," I began.

"Not much to say, really. I want to stay here, with you." Then her composure cracked.

"If you'll… have me?"

"If I'll have you?" I echoed her.

"Fuck, Nadia. Come here." I hugged her and kissed her and held her tight, and she melted into me.

"I love you so much, girl. Of course I'll have you."

"Even with all my problems?"

"I love all of you. And those aren't problems to my eyes. They are just you. Hear me?"

"Say it," she begged.

"Please. Say that you'll let me stay."

"I'll do you one better. Nadia, my home is your home. My life is linked with yours. We are in it together, be it this house or a car or whatever the world might throw at us. You hear me? The emotions I feel for you, they are…"

"…crazy," she said, laugh-crying.

"I feel them too, and they are so, so strong. And…" She paused, cursing as the water threatened to spill over the pot and the sauce began to burn against the sides of the pan. She ran to the kitchen and I followed, trying to rescue our lunch as best we could. We laughed, and as we waited for the pasta to cook, I let her sit on my lap. We watched the stove carefully.

"Don't want to miss lunch just because we got all emotional, right?" I joked. She giggled.

"That would be a tragedy, my prince. Your lady must spoil you with tasty pasta, not burnt tomato sauce." I laughed, and then the moment turned tender again. I brushed a lock of her hair from her face, and her eyes met mine and she leaned in.

"You're special," she said.

"I want to be with you forever."

"Forever," I repeated, and kissed her deeply. Lunch was amazing. No matter if it was a little bit burnt.