The Little Universe

I smiled and replied, “Pleasure to meet you, sir. I’m Jon Gruber.”

“Interesting transportation, Mr. Gruber. Especially in this weather.”

His look was one of admiration and concern. I suspected he was deciding whether he had made a mistake in hiring me.

“Gets me from point A to B,” I said, disconnecting the front leather bag. I slung it over my shoulder, hoping to instill some confidence in Adams.

He led me into his house. The entry had a cathedral ceiling with stained glass windows that filled the downstairs with an array of colors, like walking through a rainbow. The wooden floor was finely polished. My footsteps echoed softly as I followed him down the hallway.

“Should I take off my shoes?” I asked. Adams shook his head no.

Dozens of framed pictures hung on the walls of a happy family: man, wife and pretty daughter. The girl instantly caught my eye. Auburn hair, easy smile, the girl-next-door look that I was naturally attracted to.

Adams jogged up the first flight of stairs and I followed. The stairwell contained paintings of planets, nebulas and constellations. Things I knew nothing about back then. Adams paused briefly on the second flight as he passed the largest of the paintings, a massive planet with a purple body and half-finished blue rings around it. It was a lovely piece of work though I wondered why it was unfinished. He stared at it for a moment then continued up.

The top floor was immaculate with marble counters, leather couches and a plush carpet leading to a stone hearth and fireplace where a small fire crackled. I looked around at the trophies of a successful man and wondered if I would ever have those things.

“I want to tear down this wall that separates the kitchen from the great room,” Adams explained. “The idea is to make it one big space.”

“I can do that.”

“Everything?”

“Yeah.”

“How would you get the materials here?”

“Delivery.”

“What would you recommend?” he asked.

I imagined the finished product and said, “I’ll rip out the wallboard and the studs to here, then frame a bar that stretches toward the middle. Then I’ll rewire the electrical, texture, paint and whatnot.”

He ended by saying, “I want it to be done well, Jon.”

I answered with a promise that never failed. “Sir, if you’re not delighted with the finished product, you don’t have to pay me.”