Wyoming Winter

Wyoming Winter - Chapter Fifteen

"Who is Erick talking to?" Sam asked, noticing her husband was in a heated conversation over by the door with a man who resembled a storybook lumberjack with massive arms, legs and shoulders. 

"That's Marshall Goldman. He's the a Contractor and pretty much the town handyman. He and Erick have been best friends since they were toddlers. Erick's mom used to take care of Marsh when his mom was having...issues. She spent a lot of time in the hospital." Rhonda answered.

"Oh." 

"You're telling me, it's not ready?" Erick had raised his voice bringing the attention of the room on him. 

Marshall tossed up his hands, "I'm telling you its been neglected for too long. It's going to take months to get ready."  

"I thought you said you could take care of it, Marsh, this isn't taking care of it." Erick snapped, "You said we'd be able to at least have one room to sleep in while you're finishing the rest." 

"The house hasn't been touched in over ten years. What I told you is I would look at it, and I did. I'm not a magician, I can't fix ten years of neglect in a few days." 

"Its been nearly two weeks." 

Marshall ran a hand down his face in frustration, "I told you, the roof caved in over the upstairs hallway. The elements have been getting in for years, and the whole structure is rotting. There is no way its going to be ready before spring. I told you that." 

"I told you I need the master for us to live in until the rest is done." 

"And I told you it isn't possible."  

As she watched the two men's exchange, Sam realized the contractor had a bit of fear in his eyes. Was he really afraid of Erick?

"Fuck, Marsh." Erick pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, showing his frustration and exhaustion, "Do I need to find another contractor?"   

"Come on, Man, I can get it done, I just need more time." 

Erick was shaking his head, "I've got a guy in Powell who is ready with a team of fifteen, they can get it done in no time." 

"You fucking jackass," Marshall exploded, "you didn't intend to give me this job, did you? You're pulling that holier than thou bullshit again." 

"I need the job done, Marshall. Not excuses." Erick yelled back. 

"Erick!" Sam adjusted David in her arms, "What the fuck is the matter with you? I thought he was your friend." 

"This doesn't concern you, Sam." Erick growled, "Sit down and shut up."   

Sam's eyebrows shot up, as did her anger, "Excuse you? Don't you fucking talk to me like that."  

"Sam..."

Her husbands voice held a note of warning that she completely ignored, "You're not helping this situation with yelling and screaming. You don't need a builders license or whatever it is, to know that a house that's been sitting for ten years isn't going to be livable in a few weeks." 

"Samantha..." 

She laughed, "Oh, now you think using my whole fucking name is going to do anything? Fuck you! I don't know why you're suddenly acting like an asshole. Even I know a house can't be rebuilt in a week when its been sitting neglected for ten years. Why don't you find us a place to sleep tonight instead of being a jackass?"

The room was silent as Sam faced off with her husband in front of his friends. She had gone off on him, and she knew he was going to be pissed. She had never stood for people talking down to her, and she wasn't going to start now.