Whisper

20

The next week was absolutely exhausting.

Even though we thought we had the whole project planned out, to do exactly what I wanted, we literally had to tear the room apart.

We ripped out all the walls and the ceiling. Most of the wiring had to be re-routed and new wiring done.

I ended up renting a garbage bin, just for the drywall and tiles we tore out, along with wiring, fixtures and other parts and pieces, that I didn't even know existed.

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Luckily, Bobby was not only a great carpenter, but a pretty good plumber and Jessie was a whiz at the electrical end of things.

We actually ended up tearing out the existing closet, putting up a wall and making an on-suite. It made the room a little smaller, but as Bobby commented.

"Will. Its supposed to be a spare bedroom. Its bigger than our apartment."

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Bobby and Jessie were renting a small apartment over the general store. They had been finalizing the deal, the day I met them.

Since I had several spare bedrooms and even an executive suite, at the rear of the house, I offered them to stay with me.

They refused, of course, but several late nights, they did simply collapse in one of the spare bedrooms.

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The amount of work that we had to do, was far more than we had initially anticipated and there was a fear, in my mind, that we would not finish.

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"Shit on that," Jessie assured me, one afternoon, while we had a beer break.

"We said we would get this done and we will."

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Sheila was a huge help.

I cannot remember how many times she drove to Corner Brook, getting supplies that we needed and how many meals and snacks she prepared for us.

She even offered a set of extra hands when we needed it and most days, she was with us, up until around 9 at night, when she had to go home and look after her son, Henry.

Henry spent much of his spare time at the house as well, helping in anyway he could. He was great at cleaning up and dragging garbage to the bin. I even sneaked him shot glasses of beer, much to his mother's chagrin. She would scold me, but it was always followed by a kiss, so I didn't put much thought in her anger.

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I was really becoming attached to Sheila and her son.

Henry was a wonderful boy. Polite, smart and always positive. The complete opposite of what I was, growing up in foster homes. I was moody, withdrawn and prone to loud outbursts. The main reasons for my constant shuffling between foster homes.

As for Sheila, I was getting an overpowering feeling of love for her. Like her son, she was always smiling, always positive, always encouraging. And she was becoming more beautiful to me, every day.

I always looked forward to seeing her in the morning and her smile would always brighten up my day.

She was exactly what I needed in my life. I was even having thoughts of marriage, although I knew, sensibly, that it was far to early for that. But the comfort level I felt with her and her son, was such, that I could see a future with her.

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Of course, there was one little stumbling block.

Whisper.