Now the door was always locked. Sometimes I heard hammering and drilling coming from inside.
“What are you building out there?” I asked one afternoon.
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“Just working on a little home improvement project.”
“What kind of project?”
“Nothing exciting, honey. You’ll see.”
I decided to test him.
He immediately changed the subject.
The following afternoon, I decided to test him.
“Wesley, could you help me find a screwdriver? I need to tighten the handle on my jewelry box.”
“Sure! I’ll grab one.”
“I’ll come with you. I’m not sure which size I need.”
He laughed nervously.
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He shook his head. “No, you stay here and rest. I’ll bring the whole toolbox.”
“Wesley, I broke my pelvis, not my ability to recognize a screwdriver.”
He laughed nervously, but still insisted on going alone.
Later, while walking past the garage, I spotted a shopping bag beside the door. Inside were scraps of beautiful fabric.
