Read Online Waking Up With You by Sofie Hartwell - Free Book Online
Authors: Sofie Hartwell
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in architecture and life.” How should I interpret that statement? Less involvement, less commitment, less emotional investment? What does he want less of? Isn’t it obvious, Emma?
I take a break from my web surfing to gather my thoughts. On one hand, I have learned a lot about Jake’s professional accomplishments. On the other, he is as enigmatic as ever to me. It’s like you learn a bunch of stuff about a person, and yet still know nothing about the man behind the mask. Well-played, Jake.
Charlie once vividly described to me how he met Jake. Apparently, Jake was by the drinking fountain when he heard the faint sound of crying inside the janitor’s broom closet. Charlie had been hiding from Lucas, the infamous ten-year-old bully of Clara Barton School, who had been regularly throwing his PBJ sandwiches in the trash and stealing his lunch money. Jake bravely told him to come out, and together they accosted the boy. My brother learned to stand up to the bullies of the world, and Jake won his lifelong loyalty and friendship. It wasn’t too long before Jake started hanging out constantly at our home, where Mom and Dad treated him like one of their own. Jake and Charlie were a team but, being so much younger, I simply observed them from afar. How I wish I knew Jake the way Charlie knew him.
I go to the kitchen to make a Chinese chicken salad, but there are no cans of mandarin oranges. I might as well stock up the pantry, so I drive to the nearest supermarket. I start loading up the cart with ingredients I need. Staples, canned goods, frozen items… last stop, produce. I get two pounds of Portobello mushrooms, lots of green vegetables, peppers in various colors, and herbs. As I go up and down the aisles, I ask myself if I now look like one of those suburban young wives who are flush with cash and bored out of their minds. I groan inwardly as I have an epiphany. I am a kept woman now. Oh my gosh! The irony, of course, is that I have nothing to contribute in the exchange.
I drive back home and, as usual, I’m struck by the stunning view of the house and landscape. I used to think that modern buildings lack humanity and warmth, what with all the cold steel and glass they use, but Jake’s work is so simple and stark that you know he wants to shine the spotlight on the occupant. It’s the resident who imbues the house with his personality. From the interior design, I can safely assume that my husband is always in control, never a hair out of place.
Ugh! It’s a real bummer to be married to someone so good-looking, kind, and supremely talented. I almost wish he was the complete opposite. There may be worse things than being married to a great guy who doesn’t want you, but I sure don’t know what they are.
I bring in the bags of groceries and carefully organize everything in the pantry and fridge. Next, I make my Chinese chicken salad with fried wonton noodles and mandarin oranges. Then I set the table for one. I munch on my tasty salad, a forkful at a time. After a quick clean-up, I’m back to my research work.
This time I’m zooming in on Jake’s eponymous firm. The firm’s portfolio of work encompasses commercial, residential, cultural, and educational projects. The firm has won dozens of awards of excellence. His own house, where I’m comfortably nesting now, won the California Home and Design Residential Architecture Award three years ago. Wow! Charlie probably knew about all these things, but I feel guilty that I’m such an ignoramus concerning Jake’s work. I was obviously in my own little world when he was building his career. His path to fame had been relatively easy it seems, considering that he started winning accolades for his designs even as a senior student at MIT.
The firm’s website dazzles the visitor with first-rate photographs of most of their impressive projects. The tweets are few, around one or two in every quarter. The profile hardly says anything about the leadership. Jake has a
I take a break from my web surfing to gather my thoughts. On one hand, I have learned a lot about Jake’s professional accomplishments. On the other, he is as enigmatic as ever to me. It’s like you learn a bunch of stuff about a person, and yet still know nothing about the man behind the mask. Well-played, Jake.
Charlie once vividly described to me how he met Jake. Apparently, Jake was by the drinking fountain when he heard the faint sound of crying inside the janitor’s broom closet. Charlie had been hiding from Lucas, the infamous ten-year-old bully of Clara Barton School, who had been regularly throwing his PBJ sandwiches in the trash and stealing his lunch money. Jake bravely told him to come out, and together they accosted the boy. My brother learned to stand up to the bullies of the world, and Jake won his lifelong loyalty and friendship. It wasn’t too long before Jake started hanging out constantly at our home, where Mom and Dad treated him like one of their own. Jake and Charlie were a team but, being so much younger, I simply observed them from afar. How I wish I knew Jake the way Charlie knew him.
I go to the kitchen to make a Chinese chicken salad, but there are no cans of mandarin oranges. I might as well stock up the pantry, so I drive to the nearest supermarket. I start loading up the cart with ingredients I need. Staples, canned goods, frozen items… last stop, produce. I get two pounds of Portobello mushrooms, lots of green vegetables, peppers in various colors, and herbs. As I go up and down the aisles, I ask myself if I now look like one of those suburban young wives who are flush with cash and bored out of their minds. I groan inwardly as I have an epiphany. I am a kept woman now. Oh my gosh! The irony, of course, is that I have nothing to contribute in the exchange.
I drive back home and, as usual, I’m struck by the stunning view of the house and landscape. I used to think that modern buildings lack humanity and warmth, what with all the cold steel and glass they use, but Jake’s work is so simple and stark that you know he wants to shine the spotlight on the occupant. It’s the resident who imbues the house with his personality. From the interior design, I can safely assume that my husband is always in control, never a hair out of place.
Ugh! It’s a real bummer to be married to someone so good-looking, kind, and supremely talented. I almost wish he was the complete opposite. There may be worse things than being married to a great guy who doesn’t want you, but I sure don’t know what they are.
I bring in the bags of groceries and carefully organize everything in the pantry and fridge. Next, I make my Chinese chicken salad with fried wonton noodles and mandarin oranges. Then I set the table for one. I munch on my tasty salad, a forkful at a time. After a quick clean-up, I’m back to my research work.
This time I’m zooming in on Jake’s eponymous firm. The firm’s portfolio of work encompasses commercial, residential, cultural, and educational projects. The firm has won dozens of awards of excellence. His own house, where I’m comfortably nesting now, won the California Home and Design Residential Architecture Award three years ago. Wow! Charlie probably knew about all these things, but I feel guilty that I’m such an ignoramus concerning Jake’s work. I was obviously in my own little world when he was building his career. His path to fame had been relatively easy it seems, considering that he started winning accolades for his designs even as a senior student at MIT.
The firm’s website dazzles the visitor with first-rate photographs of most of their impressive projects. The tweets are few, around one or two in every quarter. The profile hardly says anything about the leadership. Jake has a
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