Early this morning while most of you were still nestled warm in your beds and a few of you early birds had begun to wipe the sleep from your eyes, Chris felt raindrops come in from the window.
He shot upright in bed, waking me up, and desperately tried to make sense of his apparent distress at the sprinkles of water.
“Rain,” He mumbled almost incoherently.
“Just close the window,” I replied, annoyed at having to wake up for something so silly.
But then it clicked. The reason that the light sprinkles of rain, which signaled a possible downpour, were a cause of distress: we didn’t have a roof.
A few days ago the stars aligned and Chris was able to start working on our house. And by that I mean, ripping off the current roof so that by the time his dad gets here, everything will be ready to start the real building. One of Chris’ friend’s was more than happy to help and the process went surprisingly fast. Evelyn and I watched from a sand pile in the backyard.
The forecast promised clear blue skies but Chris pulled the tarp out of the garage just in case. He forgot one important thing, the forecast is rarely right.
As Chris grabbed his shoes and rushed out of the room, as an after thought I called after him, “Do you need help?”
It sounded like he was already out the door as he answered me, “Yes.”
Still in my pajamas I slipped on my rain boots for their protection and ease of putting on more so than their comfort. The night was still fairly warm but the breeze was cool and droplets of rain slowly added to the chill.