You may be wondering why we haven’t updated the blog in a week. (If you didn’t notice, then you’re not here enough.) It’s rare for us to get so busy that no posts go up, but hear me out: this is the order of events that happened between last week and this one:
Jordan and Brian go back to the apartment to sleep after a long day of working on the new house. Jordan steps into the bedroom and immediately throws herself onto the ground in an evasive manoeuvre as yet another bat dive-bombs her from above. After Jordan crawls backwards down the stairs, Brian startles the bat into the office and shuts the door. Bags are quickly packed and Jordan and Brian sleep at Jordan’s parents’ house.
Jordan undergoes scary medical test, complete with sedatives. Jordan doesn’t remember the rest of the day. The bat catcher comes and says the bat is gone, and tells Jordan she’s a wuss for not catching it herself. Jordan is too drugged up to slap the man.
Brian finishes the drywall and patchjob on the dining room ceiling and bathroom walls after repairing the leak, ready for tiling, at the new house. Leaking pipe is soldered and new tub has been installed.
Brian spends the day scraping spackling off the dining room ceiling to prepare for repainting. He rinses his head in the new tub while Jordan tidies downstairs. Jordan hears the whoosh of running water, then the telltale drap-drap-drapdrap-drap of a leak. Brian follows the sound down to the basement, where water is pooling on the floor. With many curse words, Brian yanks out his drywall patch job and discovers another pipe, cracked. Jordan has a cigarette.
Brian asks Jordan in the morning, ‘What colour would you like to paint the living room?’ Jordan says, ‘No colour; why?’ Brian says, ‘Well then, there’s going to be one raw drywall wall, because I’m going to have to cut out the wall to fix the pipe today.’ Jordan says nothing, and stays as far away from the new house as possible. Brian and Jordan’s dad spend the day patching the cracked pipe. Mention of the house makes Jordan’s eye twitch.
Brian teaches himself how to tile, and tiles the bathroom. Jordan sticks to packing up the old apartment.
Jordan hears Brian testing the water, just to be sure of his pipe repair. She tries not to ask herself why this is being tested after all the tile has gone up.
Do couples buy houses to test their resolve to co-exist with each other? I haven’t yet met a person who said, “Oh, you’ve bought a house? What a wonderful experience you’re about to have! It’s like a second honeymoon!”
Brian is in his glory. I hope he writes about it this week, so I can read it and try to understand. Every now and then, he’ll wander over to me, covered from his head to his toes in plaster and grouting, and just smile at me. I give him a face I’ve seen on popular girls in high school when nerdy boys would stare at them; the look that says, “What do you want, weirdo?” But Brian just keeps on grinning until I roll my eyes and walk away.
Darcy and I are hiding out in Brian’s new office. At least there aren’t any bats here.
(Knock on wood.)