Read Online If You Were Here by Jen Lancaster - Free Book Online Page B

work comes from the teardown, and I can swing a sledgehammer and rewire an electrical panel. The only hard part’s moving pipes, and we can outsource that to a professional.”
    “You spend one high school summer working in a lumberyard and all of a sudden you’re Bob Vila?”
    He wipes his hands on a dish towel and begins to ladle out our dinner. “No, I’m saying we’re capable of doing more than you’d guess.”
    I mull this over while collecting napkins, spoons, and enough bread and butter to absorb the taste of our dinner. When he’s finished preparing our bowls, he sits down across from me and places his hand over my left hand. “Promise me you’ll at least consider our buying a rehab.”
    I glance down at the gelatinous blob in my bowl and I cross the fingers on my right hand under the table. “If we can’t find a house that’s move-in ready, then yes, I promise.”
    And I mean it. Mostly.
    Yet there’s a part of me that also recalls spending a year of Sundays watching the Food Network. For all our copious research, I’m still about to eat a bowl of blue stew.
     
    We’ve officially looked at every move-in-ready house in Abington Cambs.
    Now what?
     
    I’ve spent the past few days furiously trying to complete an overdue chapter, and the eyestrain from staring at the computer is killing me. Between the pressure of the deadline and the anxiety of not finding a house, I’m completely wound up and stressed out. I decide the best way to reward and revive myself is a long soak in the tub with a couple of chamomile tea bags over my eyes.
    I’ve been in the tub for about twenty minutes when I hear an odd noise. It’s almost like . . . whispering? I sit up for a second, removing the washcloth that’s keeping my tea bags in place. I pause to really listen, but then I don’t hear anything. I’m not terribly concerned, because the alarm system is set. I have it armed at all times now, ever since ORNESTEGA’s little pals flashed their gang signs at me. 49
    I reapply my tea bags, reposition the washcloth, and, using my foot, nudge the faucet to run enough hot water to revive my bubbles. Ah, that’s the stuff.
    A few minutes later, I hear the weird sound again, but I ignore it. It’s probably just the TV downstairs. I’ve taken to leaving HGTV on twenty-four/seven. Every time Sandra Rinomato helps her Property Virgins find their first place, my hope is renewed. I mean, if people who have almost no budget can find their dream home, we’re destined to find something great, right?
    Anyway, sometimes the volume goes up during commercials, especially when the Sham Wow guy’s ads run. No big deal.
    I hear the odd noise a third time and that’s when I smell something akin to cologne and cigarette smoke. I pull off my jury-rigged chamomile mask, and when I do, I am faced with what appear to be two Japanese businessmen inspecting my steam shower.
    I scream and then they scream and we all scream, yet with all the screaming going on in my bathroom, no one gives us any ice cream.
    The screams do bring Vienna running, though. So that’s a plus.
    “Ohmigod, break my eardrums, why don’t you?” She stands in my doorway, hip-slung and aggravated, clad in a sundress constructed of what appears to be a fitted yellow shower curtain, paired with four-and-a-half-inch gladiator sandals. 50 She points at the two men peering down curiously at me before returning to texting while talking. “This is Mr. Oshiro and Mr. Takamoto. I don’t know who’s who, but whatever. They’re real estate investors from Japan. They might want to buy a piece of my company.” And on cue, both gentlemen bow.
    This is surreal.
    “Hi, nice to meet you and welcome to my home,” I say with a nod to the men. They bow again. “Oh,Vienna? In case you failed to notice, I’m taking a bath here!”
    “Yeah, I noticed.” She snickers. “I noticed your shoulders are totally fat.” Then she briefly removes her fingers from her crystalstudded cell