You Had Me At -- ON HOLD --

Chapter 4

At the very end of the hall there was a set of stairs leading up to the roof and a door which I knew was usually locked. I opened the door to discover a small room—a storage area with a few boxes, cans of paint, and paint supplies. I had tried to open the door in the past, but it had always been locked. It piqued my curiosity and I decided to go up the stairs to the roof. I had never ventured up there before, but it was a beautiful Sunday afternoon and I thought it might inspire me somehow.

I opened the heavy metal door and stepped out on the roof. The bright sun blinded me for a moment and then I saw Quinn, staring at me. He must have heard the door open and was wondering who had disturbed him. He was sitting on a folding chair with a folded-out metal table before him. On the table was the shell of a dollhouse along with a few pieces of sandpaper and various pieces of wood.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think anyone was up here," I said, preparing to leave.

He appeared almost embarrassed and I wanted to spare him those feelings. He quickly recovered but he did not smile. "You don't have to go," he said calling out to me. "Company is nice once in awhile."

I smiled sheepishly walked towards him. He was sanding the porch rails for the wooden dollhouse. He set down the miniature pieces, so small in his large hands, and gave me a half smile.

"It's for my niece," he said.

Well, I didn't expect it to be for him, but if it were, I would begrudge him either. The house was gorgeous and meticulously done. "It's very nice."

"I've been working on it for three months. I work on it when I can."

"How long do you think it will lake you?"

He shrugged. "Probably another six months. I have to finish up the interior and put the bricks and shingles on the exterior."

"Is this the first one you've ever done?"

"It's my fourth. I've given them all to charity."

He really had done a great job. He was had more talents other than football. "That's nice of you."

"This is a hobby of mine. My sister used to collect figurines, and I promised her that one day I'd make her a dollhouse. I figured if I gave it to me niece, my sister would be happy enough."

"I would have killed for a dollhouse like this. I had one of those plastic Barbie ones. How old is your niece?"

"She'll be six in March."

It seemed weird to stick around. "You probably wanted to be alone, I'll go."

He seemed surprised to see me leaving. "I could use a hand," he said, sensing that I really didn't want to leave. My loneliness was so obvious. "I can grab another chair from my place. If I have some help, I might actually get this thing done by Christmas."

I couldn't hide a smile. I was so grateful to him, but I was careful not to show it. I needed human contact, even if it was from a smartass I didn't know and probably had no common interests with. He returned with a chair that looked to be from his dining room table and gave me the windowsills to sand smooth. The house had ten rooms, a Victorian style. There were eighteen windowsills needing sanding before they were glued into position.

"You aren't from around here, are you?" I said, handing him my first sanded windowsill. I wanted to unsure that I had done it right.

"No, I'm not," he said giving me a thumbs-up sign and placing the sanded piece into a small container.

"So where do you normally hang your hat?" I realized this was the most conversation the two of us had ever had, and despite him putting me to work, I was enjoying myself, feeling human again.