Unexpected House Guests–A Construction Nightmare

IMG_0312I open my eyes to see a glimmer of light. Dawn, the horizon on the verge of exploding with pink yellow light. How lucky. I stretch admiring the east facing bedroom window that frames the budding sunrise like a piece of invaluable art. Energized by the suns rays, I bounce from bed, slide into slippers and knot a robe around my waist. With a quick flick of the wrist, I twist the temporary door knob and glide into the hall.

The ball of my foot has barely touched wood, when the door across the hall creaks open and out pops the mussed head of my concrete subcontractor.

“Gary?” I say incredulously and knuckle an eye.

Before he can answer, the three remaining guest suites swing open and I see a framer, plumber and an electrician.

Must be dreaming. I blink and shake away their faces. No sooner have I reopened my eyes then a rush of water flushes, sink faucet runs and then my heat and electrical sub appears from the bathroom.

“Mornin’ boss lady,” he nods. Passes by me bare chested, with a linen white towel wrapped around his waist. I track his damp footprints until he disappears behind a sheet of floor to ceiling plastic.

“One, two, three…” echoes from over a shoulder. My head snaps around to see three burly men playing rock, paper, scissors. Apparently to sort out who gets next dibs on the shower.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, still confused about whether I’m awake or asleep.

“Mr. Boss Lady said we could stay,” the plumber shrugs. “He thought the renovation might move along quicker if we all just lived here twenty-four-seven.”

Why in the world would he… My mind scrambles for some sort of reasonable explanation. A millisecond later, I knock a fist on my forehead. “Of course.” I say. Remembering for the next two weeks the Baron is traveling overseas for business.

E.L. Chappel author of Spirit Dance/Storm Chasers/Risk

Understanding that anxiety dreams are not specific to writing novels and flying airplanes.

Assigning the Baron a number in the pool as we speak. (Just in case.)

aka The Glamorous Wife

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